Free Lights Out by Nate Southard

how difficult can that be? Don’t we have surveillance in solitary?”
    “Yeah, there’s a camera in there. It’s old, though. Shit, most of the equipment in this prison is about a day short of ancient. The picture was just about worthless--a grainy mess. If we see a blur running around, we can be sure that’s our guy.”
    “So we’ve got nothing.”
    “And you’d rather just let them wander the halls like what? Bait?”
    “I’m not saying that. You know I’m not. Maybe if we let them mingle, though, we can keep an eye on them. We’ll see who talks, and it’ll give us more clues than we have right now.”
    Timms frowned. “No. We’ll get our answers after the prisoners have sat in their cells for a few days.”
    “So the lockdown’s an interrogation technique?”
    “No, it’s a precaution. Look, they’re dusting the cells in solitary. They’re dusting the morgue. We’ll have somebody come in today to do autopsies on the new round of bodies. We’ve got those locked up in cold storage. That’s the best I can manage right now.”
    Darren stepped forward until he was touching the warden’s desk. He shook his head, placed his hands flat on top of the desk. “But locking everybody up? It’s like we’re trying to keep them safe by punishing them.”
    Ron plopped down in his chair. “What would you rather have me do? Want me to get all the prisoners into a big room and say ‘Somebody’s killing a bunch of you, but we have no clue who it is or how they’re doing it. Enjoy your lunch?’”
    “At least that might build some trust! Do you think anybody out there with information is going to bring it to you after this? And what about with the leaders? I promised them there wouldn’t be a lockdown, and they agreed to a truce so we can finish this! Is that going to stick around now? Are they going to lay off each other and let you complete an investigation? I sure as shit don’t think so!”
    Ronald paused long enough to sip at his coffee. He looked tired, and Darren thought he might even look a little regretful.
    “Peace would have been nice, but you ought to know these men by now. Ribisi, Sweeny. Diggs and Marquez, too. They don’t give a shit about anybody but themselves. They didn’t plan on keeping that truce any longer than it took them to leave your office. If you think otherwise, you’re kidding yourself.”
    Darren watched Timms for a long moment. The office was silent, save their breathing. He spent the time fighting the urge to scream at one of his best friends. When he finally spoke, his voice was even and measured.
    “Fuck you, Ron.”
    The warden’s eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me, you condescending asshole. I do good work here, and you know it. I work every day to not only satisfy the spiritual needs of these men, but also to improve life inside this shithole in any way I can. While you sit in this office and pore over your papers, sipping coffee and examining budgets and planning lunches with the Governor, I’m out there with them, getting to know them. And if I am in my office, nobody has to go through a secretary to see me. They can knock on my fucking door. So don’t you dare tell me I haven’t built a relationship with them, because you haven’t gotten out from behind your desk long enough to take a look.”
    “Darren--”
    Albright didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest.
     
    ***
     
    Morrow walked along the highest level of Cellblock C. He remained alert, his eyes constantly searching for trouble. His arms swung at his sides, and his steps were casual, but sure.
    “Hey, Officer. When the fuck are they letting us out?”
    He gave the prisoner, a white guy with graying hair and glasses, the slightest of glances. “Wish I could tell you.”
    “This is bullshit.”
    “Just sit tight. Jerk off or something.”
    “You’re bullshit too, Officer.”
    “Long as you keeping calling me Officer, I don’t care. Enjoy your stroke.”
    The prisoner grumbled