Free Redemption's Warrior by Jennifer Morse and William Mortimer Page B

beatings and illegal imprisonment; his outrage, singes nerves and muscle. Fury pours through him, triggering a cascade of bio-chemical reactions. In the rush of neurological and muscular response the combustion transforms, metabolizing his nature with its ferocity. Leaving him breathless, it’s more than his mind can assimilate. Oppressive and disjointed, anger ferments an indigestible bitterness. He struggles to remind himself,
how will I escape trapped in my own negativity?
    While his spirit struggles, his body does maintenance and repair work throughout the island prison. At each location he asks after Daniel. The prison grapevine has no news of Daniel’s whereabouts. After work hours he cares for his egg farm. At twilight practicing martial arts, sometimes in the sandy beach and other nights on the dirt trails, his focus is building strength. And always he strives to fly under the guard’s radar.
    • • •
    Late one Saturday morning standing at the supply shed going over inventory with Checo they turn to see ominous clouds rush in concealing the sun. Trees rustle. The boom of thunder rumbles beneath Christopher’s feet. A splatter of raindrops makes small puffs of dust. Closer now the BAH… BOOM of thunder dovetails with the flash of lightening.
    Christopher runs toward his chicken coop and garden shouting, “Hang on girls. I’m on my way!
”  I cannot lose my money makers
.
    Clouds dark as night rumble, rain pours a torrential flood. Dirt paths instantly erode transforming into streams. It is a symphony of rain and howling wind. Lightning illuminates the rusty silver of his barbeque and chicken coop. The chickens are safe. Christopher hunches under banana trees while the storm spills across
Islas Tres Marias
. Trees bend in the wind. A crack followed by an explosion signals the nearby coconut tree split in two. Tree remnants fly by carried off in wind and rain. Lit by lightening the jungle flashes florescent hues of green and gold, colliding in the boom of thunder.
    Every island dweller waits for a hurricane to rip across the land. As a force of nature the hurricane is a great equalizer. All the island’s inhabitants share the anxiety of waiting. Should a hurricane blow the island to pieces they will all be hunting for a safe place to wait the storm out. In this way waiting lives in the back of each man’s mind; guard and inmate alike. Christopher wants nothing more than to escape
Islas Tres Marias
before a hurricane strikes.
    As quickly as this storm hits it dissipates. Clean air lays cool against his skin. Clouds part, the sun shines. A rainbow bends over the island. Christopher sighs with relief. Not the monster storm hovering in the back of each man’s mind. Today the storm’s drops of water glitter like diamonds.
    • • •
    Saturday afternoon turned mild by morning’s downpour, Checo and Christopher are summoned to town.  A bad feeling surges through Christopher’s gut as they walk through the town past the guard’s dormitories to their garage. At the bay entrance
El Jefe
waits holding his whip. Christopher schools his face into a neutral mask. The air around
El Jefe
is inky like jagged obsidian blades.
    Memories of Daniel’s ruined torso and the women’s bodies streaming blood; these images are burned, seared into his memory along with his strange waking vision. Christopher suppresses a shudder.
That whip has broken countless threads of human skin and muscle
.
    In the corner covered in cobwebs stands the generator supplying electricity to the guard’s quarters. The equipment’s silence announces the problem. Taking his time cleaning off the generator one layer of dirt at a time Christopher finds the fuel filter clogged. He looks at Checo, “Do we have a replacement part?”
    Pacing a small square of pavement, shaking his head, Checo adds, “We are in trouble. It’ll take a week to get the replacement.” In the deeper shadow of the garage the Jaguar paces, its spots illuminated and