Escape (Book 1)

Chapter 1

*Michael's POV*
The last time I was in a courtroom, I watched, helpless to do anything else, as my brother was sentenced to death for the murder of Terrence Steadman, the Vice Persident's brother. Now I'm in another courtroom. Only this time, it's not my brother waiting to hear what his fate will be. It's me.
"Rarely in the case of armed robbery," the judge says. "do we hear a plea of no contest. Are you sure about this, Mr. Scofield?"
"I'm sure, Your Honor." I reply.
"Your Honor," Veronica, my lawyer, speaks up. "if we could, we'd like to recess. My client's a bit confused at the moment."
I most certainly am not confused. I just want this whole thing over. Get sent to prison so that I can put the next stage of my plan into motion.
"Your Honor, I'm not confused." I say.
"He is." Veronica retorts, giving me a warning glare that says what are you doing?.
The judge speaks up. "Perhaps you should heed your representation's advice." she says. " Take some additional time to consider your response."
"I've already done that, Your Honor." I reply calmly. Veronica gives me another look. I give her one in return that says just trust me.
"I'll retire to my chambers to determine sentencing." the judge says. "The court is recessed until one-thirty!" she says, banging her gavel.
"Come on, let's go." Veronica says. As a guard comes to lead me away, I hear LJ, my nephew, call my name.
"Uncle Mike!"
I turn my head in his direction and see him sitting in the front row of onlookers. His eyes are red and puffy, meaning he's been crying.
"I didn't want you to come, didn't want you to see this. Go home." I tell him.
"He's not going to take this well." I say to Veronica as I'm taken back to my holding cell.
"Can you blame him? He's your nephew, Michael. And he's starting to get the idea that whoever he attaches himself to is going to end up in prison. And he's not the only one who's starting to feel that way." she says as I'm placed in the cell and the door is shut behind me. Veronica asks the guard if he can give us a minute. He nods and walks away. "One minute." he says.
She turns her attention back to me. "You just put the book in that woman's hand, and she's about to throw it at you like a grenade! Justice and punishment are the same thing to her."
"I know." I say.
"Then will you please tell me what's going through your head?"
"We've been over this."
"I've known you my entire life, and you don't have a violent bone in your body. And I know you didn't need the money."
"Veronica. . ."
"Why won't you let me help you?" she pleads.
I sigh. "You've been good to me my whole life. Really, you have. But you have got to let me deal with this. On my own. Okay?"
She stares at me as though she'll find the answer as to what I'm doing. Her eyes begin to fill with tears as she slowly nods her head. "Okay." she agrees.

After a while, I'm taken back into the courtroom to find out my sentence.
"Due to a lack of prior criminal conduct," the judge begins. "I am inclined toward probation. However, the fact that you discharged a deadly weapon during the commission of the crime suggests malice to me. For that reason, I find it incumbent that you see the inside of a prison, Mr. Scofield." She picks up a piece of paper and looks it over. "It says here that you've requested to be incarcerated somewhere near your home here in Chicago, and I'm willing to honor that. The closest level one facility to-"
"Level one?" Veronica blurts out. "That's maximum security, Your Honor!"
The judge's eyes switch to Veronica, and she looks less than pleased to have been interrupted. "I would advise council to refrain from interrupting me." she says. She gives Veronica a warning glare before turning back to me. "As I was saying, the closest level one facility would be Fox River State Penitentiary. As for the term of your sentence, I'm setting it at five years. You'll be eligible for parole in half of that time. This sentence is to be carried out immediately."
I allow myself a small smile as she pounds her gavel once and I'm led out of the courtroom and into a van that will take me to prison to serve out my sentence. But little does anyone know, I'm not planning on serving even most of it.

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Once I arrive at Fox River, I'm searched, stripped down to my underwear, (Goodbye, expensive suit I'll never wear again!), and given my prison uniform. Then I'm instructed to sit in one of the chairs that lines the wall and I'm handed a clipboard full of a bunch of papers I have to fill out. When I get to the question about what ailments I might have, I put 'Type 1 diabetes'. I don't actually have it, but it's essential to my plan for everyone to think I do.
Once everything's filled out, I walk over to one of the guards and hand him the clipboard. The name on his name tag says 'Bellick'. He takes the clipboard from me and looks it over. "Name and back number." he says.
"Scofield, Michael. Nine-four-nine-four-one." I answer.
"Are you a religious man, Scofield?" he asks.
"I never really thought about it." I say.
"Good. Because the Ten Commandments don't mean a thing in here. We only have two commandments here. The first commandment is that you have nothing coming."
"And what's the second?" I ask.
"See commandment number one." he replies.
"Gotcha." I nod as I laugh under my breath.
Bellick looks from my paperwork. "Are you talking out the side of your neck?" he sneers.
"Come again?"
"I said, are you being a smart a-s?"
I shake my head. "Just trying to fly low and avoid the radar, boss. Do my time and get out."
"There isn't any flying under my radar." he smirks.
"Good to know." I reply. He nods his head, gesturing for me to move along. Then I'm directed to the cell block. The cell block is a long hallway with cells on multiple levels on either side. I'm led up some stairs to the second level and put in my cell. Come to find out, I have a cell mate. A darker skinned man named Sucre. He sits on the top bunk of the bed, reading, while I stand with my arms through the cell bars, watching the activity below. The other inmates sit or stand in their cells, some reading, some running in place or doing push-ups, and some shout at the guards that pass by, asking for the air conditioning to be turned up. One of the guys in the cell across the hall from me stands up. "Hey, Fish!" he yells. Fish is the nickname I've been dubbed with, referring to the fact that I'm new here. A 'fish out of water' if you will. "What are you looking at?" he shouts to me. "You look too pretty to be in here." I try to ignore him, but he keeps yelling 'Fish!'.
"I suggest you take a seat, Fish." Sucre says. "There ain't nothing to do up here but serve time. Nobody's gonna serve it for you."
Suddenly, there's a buzzing noise as the door at the end of the hallway opens and a guard comes in, followed by a group of six or seven inmates. They all walk in single file, seemingly obedient and calm. As I watch them pass by down below, the man at the end of the line leaps at the man just in front of him and punches him once in the stomach before darting off into a nearby cell. Its only when I hear a clanging sound and see a handmade knife fall to the floor that I realize he wasn't punched. The man who was stabbed screams and collapses to the ground where he continues to scream in agony. This gets the attention of the other inmates who stop what they're doing and rush to see what just happened. Some of them look worried and disgusted, while others cheer. Two guards kneel down next to the injured man and help him up to take him to the infirmary. I stare in horror as the inmates continue to cheer. Why would they cheer on that type of behavior?
I hear Sucre jump down from the top bunk and come up beside me. "Welcome to Prisneyland, Fish," he says.