Beth
Over the next few days, Beth watched patiently as the entire prison descended into a seemingly endless cycle of blood and payback.
The word among the inmates was that Bull had finally crossed the line. It was one thing for the Knights to carve up a Sinner or two, but executing their top guy was a step too far—especially when all evidence pointed to the fact that the captain of the COs had done it for them.
The air in Bluebonnet seemed to crackle with the constant promise of violence, like electricity.
Lindhurst wasn't a strong enough leader to keep the guards calm and disciplined, and they started lashing out at the Sinners preemptively, trying to show them who was boss before things got out of hand.
The new leader of the Sinners was a hothead who saw these assaults as proof that Butler had whacked Roberto, so he encouraged them to respond in kind, preparing attacks on guards whenever the correct conditions presented themselves.
And Bull kept insisting that he hadn't ordered Butler to kill Roberto, that he wanted to broker some truce—but no one trusted him, and he ordered the White Knights to start stockpiling weapons in preparation for the worst. He was even too busy to order Beth around.
Four Sinners were beaten almost to death by COs in separate incidents.
A Knight had his eyes and tongue gouged out, and died from blood loss.
A guard was cornered and stabbed to death by a trio of Sinners.
A Sinner who worked the cafeteria died of third-degree burns when a vat of boiling oil was tossed at him.
And on. And on. And on.
Until one day, a fight broke out in cell block D and spilled over into the neighboring blocks on both sides. By the time the guards mobilized to try to take control of the rapidly-escalating situation, half the prison was locked down, and uncontrolled carnage tore through the other half like a hurricane. Quayle was cowering in his office with the governor on the phone, and every available corrections officer was called to blocks B through G to try to put down the riot.
No one was looking at Ad-Seg, one of the few areas of the prison where the inmates were still locked up tight in their cells.
Perfect.
While all of the guards were distracted, Beth hurried down to the hole and hit a few buttons on the keyboard, unlocking Hank's cell. She jogged down the corridor and swung his door open.
“It's happening,” she said. “Let's go.”
Hank nodded and jumped to his feet, running after her.
Beth had mapped the ideal route for their escape. With the riot exploding in the main cell blocks, no one would be anywhere near the gym, or the locker rooms that were off the adjoining corridor. From there, it was just a few short steps to the side entrance the guards used. Then they'd get to her car, use her key card to leave through the officers' parking area, and leave this miserable place behind them forever. Bib had prepared their new identities, which were tucked under the spare tire in the trunk of the car.
They reached the gym, and Beth almost fainted with relief. The sounds of the riot could be heard from a distance, even over the screeching alarms.
Just a few more steps, Beth thought. Freedom is so close...
But when they entered the short hallway that led to the locker rooms, they found Bull, War Skins, and 88 waiting for them. Each of them held a pair of shivs.
“I knew it,” Bull sneered. “I knew you two were behind this shit. I should've had you both killed at the first sign of trouble. But no, I had to show compassion, like some kind of fucking idiot.”
Fuck, Beth thought. I should have brought a weapon for Hank, in case we ran into trouble. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She slid her baton from her belt. “One warning. That's all you get. Let us pass, or by God I'll beat the brains out of your skulls.”
“I just watched Ram get stabbed to death by about a dozen Sinners,” Bull snarled. “He was my best friend in this shithole, and he died so you and your lover boy could run off together and play 'Happily Ever After.' Well, guess what? I'm going to carve my name into your hearts while they're still fucking beating. I'm going to make sure you never leave this place.”
The three Knights lunged at them, the blades of their shivs glinting in the red emergency lights. Beth swung her baton and cracked it against the side of War Skins' head, knocking him out immediately. As she did, she saw Hank jump on Bull, knocking the shiv out of his left hand and grappling furiously for the one on the right.
88 swung one blade at Beth's face, slashing her left cheek even as the other blade swooped down toward her midsection. She used her baton to parry it, and succeeded in smacking 88's hand hard enough to make him drop it. But he was fast, and his remaining shiv darted toward her torso again. She side-stepped it clumsily, but it came close enough to nick one of the buttons off her uniform.
You can't stab me there, she thought. You can stab me anywhere else, but motherfucker, you are not taking this baby away from me.
The knife came in for the kill again and Beth caught the blade with her left forearm on purpose. She barely registered the pain as she twisted her arm to one side, wrenching the weapon from 88's fingers. But as she raised her baton to strike, 88's fist extended with blinding speed, hitting her squarely in the face.
Beth felt her nose crunch under the force of the blow, and her head snapped back as stars danced in front of her eyes. She was caught off-balance, and it was just the opening 88 needed to snatch the baton from her hand. Before she'd even had time to process the punch to the face, she felt the hard polished wood of the baton connect with the top of her scalp.
She sank to one knee, the world around her briefly fading into shades of gray. As 88 raised the baton again, she saw that Bull had managed to wrestle his way on top of Hank. His weight gave him the advantage, and Hank grunted as he tried to keep Bull's thumbs away from his eye sockets.
We're not going to make it, Beth thought blearily as she waited for another crack from the baton. We got so close, so fucking close, but it's going to end right here in this hallway. I'm sorry, Hank. I did my best.
Suddenly, Beth heard Bull let out a shriek of agony. She looked over and saw him flop over onto his side, bleeding from a half-dozen puncture wounds in his upper back. His eyes were rolling up in his head, and saliva was foaming at the corners of his mouth.
Speed Bump stood over him, holding a bloody shiv.
“You get Hank outta here,” he said. “I got this. If y'all get a chance to see Bib, tell 'im I'm sorry I let the Warriors down.”
As Beth pulled Hank off the floor and dragged him along behind her, she saw Speed Bump run toward 88 with his shiv. 88 ducked down, reaching for one of the discarded blades. He retrieved it just in time to drive it deep into Speed Bump's jugular, even as Speed Bump stabbed him in the chest and stomach over and over. They collapsed to the floor together, both sticky and slippery with blood, their bodies locked together in the spasms of death.
Beth's hand was shaking so hard she could barely get her key card into the slot that unlocked the side door. She and Hank held onto each other until they made it to her car.
Then they drove off and never looked back as the riot at Bluebonnet raged behind them.