Syndrome // H.S.

03. Lion in the Dark

To say that work was hell the rest of the day would be an understatement. Everyone was running, no brakes. I desperately needed a cigarette, but there was no time. We were all being held over as well, and the people that were off were called to come into their shift early.

Everyone was split into two groups: those that were searching, and those that were maintaining. 

The ones searching would report back to us every so often, letting us know when an inmate was found either by our own staff or local law enforcement. We were in a secluded town, which was fortunate because that meant less people for the escapees to target. So far there'd only been one robbery we'd heard of, and it matched the description of one of the prisoners. He'd broken in and stolen food and a change of clothes, scaring the shit out of the elderly couple that lived there.

But less people in the town also meant less witnesses calling in with sightings.

Several of them had successfully gotten away. We only received the names of the ones found by prison staff still nearby our campus. The ones law enforcement had caught were still being held at the county jail until they could be either returned to us or sent somewhere else. 

I had no idea if Malik was one of them.

I couldn't explain why, but I was almost worried about him. He was a grown man who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but I wondered if he was at least safe. Anytime a list of names came through, I listened carefully for his. 

I was on the maintaining team, staying late to help keep things under control in the facility. Normally I worked from 8am until 8pm, but now it was almost 10:45 at night. Around 11pm, we were informed that one of the escaped prisoners had been found and refused to go out without a fight. He was shot and killed by a police officer. It made the news quickly, and I frowned when I realized it was one that I knew rather well. He'd been on my unit since before I even got hired.

At one point I heard from another officer that one of the new trainees had quit tonight. Tomlinson, I think his name was?

This was his first day on the job and he had made a big show of how freaked out that he was, insulting everyone in the process. He had stated that this was obviously not a very well run facility if riots and runners were a normal thing around here. They weren't, but I could understand how scary it must be to experience something like this on your first day. Anyway, I heard that he called everyone idiots on his way out the door.

Closer to midnight, they decided to let some of us go home a little at time. They were worried that the remaining inmates would notice the staff thinning out and go for round two. I offered to be one of the last ones to leave, knowing some of the others had families to get back to.

When it was finally my turn, I sighed with relief. 

"Take tomorrow off, Monroe," Azoff told me as I gathered up my belongings from my locker in the breakroom. 

"What, no-"

"It's not negotiable. You stayed later than anyone else, and we've got plenty of people volunteering to come in tomorrow as it is. It's supposed to be your day off anyway."

That much was true. Normally we worked on a schedule of five on, two off, and every three weeks we have four on, three off. This was supposed to be my three day weekend. I wanted to argue more, but I was so tired I kind of looked forward to the idea of sleeping in. I wondered if I looked as exhausted as I felt.