The Whispers of 4th District

Chapter 15: The Ally

Prison had a way of making time crawl. Days blurred together in endless routine, the weight of confinement pressing down on Teddy. But beneath his quiet demeanor, a storm brewed—one fueled by vengeance, regret, and a growing desire to break free from everything, even these walls.

One afternoon, Teddy found himself in the crowded prison yard, watching the world around him with a kind of detached alertness. It was here that he noticed someone new—a wiry guy with intense, haunted eyes. The man was about his age, with a hardened look that told Teddy he'd seen his fair share of fights.

The stranger seemed to sense Teddy's gaze and turned, sizing him up. They stood there, staring each other down, until finally, the guy broke into a crooked smile and walked over.

"Teddy Williams, right?" the man said, his voice low and rough.

Teddy raised an eyebrow. "Who's asking?"

"Name's Kane," he replied. "I heard you got put away for some rough business out in the 4th District. Sounded... familiar."

Teddy's gaze sharpened, intrigued but wary. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kane shrugged, leaning against the yard's chain-link fence. "I'm here for the same reason, man. My little brother... he got caught up with the wrong crowd. Some lowlife gunned him down, left him to die in the street. I couldn't let it slide."

There was a quiet intensity to Kane's voice, a pain that Teddy understood all too well. The two stood in silence, sharing an unspoken bond of loss and vengeance.

"I did what I had to do," Kane continued, his voice a whisper only Teddy could hear. "The cops came for me right after, though. Now here I am."

Teddy nodded, feeling an unexpected kinship with Kane. "They caught me, too. But the man who put me up to it... he's still out there."

Kane's eyes flickered with understanding. "Funny thing, ain't it? We're locked up while the real demons get to walk free."

The two shared a look that said more than words ever could—a look that spoke of betrayal, of blood debts unpaid, of a hunger for freedom. Over the next few days, Teddy and Kane grew closer, sharing stories of their neighborhoods, their families, and the revenge that had put them both behind bars. But beneath the camaraderie, a dangerous plan began to take shape.

One night, as the guards made their final rounds, Kane leaned over, his voice barely a whisper. "I've been here long enough to know that this place... it has cracks. Ways out. But I've never had someone to work with. Until now."

Teddy's pulse quickened, and he glanced at Kane, catching the gleam of determination in his eyes. "You're talking about an escape."

Kane smirked, his eyes glinting with a reckless kind of hope. "I am. I know some of the routines, the schedules. And I've been making friends in the right places—guys who know how to get things. Supplies, tools. All we need is a little patience... and a lot of guts."

Teddy's mind raced. He'd been so focused on Marlon's ghost, on his mother's betrayal, that he hadn't thought about what he'd do with his own life. But the idea of freedom, of escaping not just the prison but the entire legacy of blood and betrayal, began to take root.

"What's the plan?" he asked, his voice steady.

Kane leaned in, his voice low. "Two weeks from now, there's gonna be a supply truck coming through for the kitchen. If we can get down to the service corridor before they do their nightly headcount, we'll slip in and hitch a ride out. But we'll need to time it perfectly. And we'll need some tools to get through the first gate."

Teddy nodded, taking it all in. "And the tools?"

Kane grinned. "I know a guy in Block C who can get us what we need. It'll cost, but it's doable."

Over the following days, Teddy and Kane prepared in silence, securing makeshift tools, timing the guards' shifts, and mapping out the corridors in their heads. Every night they ran through the plan, whispering late into the night until they knew it by heart.

The day before the escape, Kane handed Teddy a crude, sharpened metal piece wrapped in cloth. "For the fence," he said simply.

Teddy took it, feeling the weight of it in his hand, a strange comfort. He nodded at Kane, their shared silence solidifying their partnership.

As the clock inched closer to midnight, the two men waited, every nerve on edge. They slipped out of their cells in sync, navigating the dimly lit corridors with practiced ease. They made it to the service gate without a sound, crouching low as the guard turned the corner. With a swift twist of the makeshift tool, they pried open the gate, slipping through just as the guard passed by.

By the time they reached the service truck, the thrill of freedom was already pounding in Teddy's veins. They ducked behind crates, holding their breath as the truck rumbled to life, inching forward toward the outer gate.

But as they approached the exit, a voice cut through the silence: "Halt! You two, hands up!"

Teddy's heart dropped, but Kane didn't hesitate. He leapt forward, slamming into the guard with a force that left him sprawling. "Go!" Kane shouted. "Don't stop for anything!"

They bolted through the gate, slipping into the shadows beyond the prison walls, the night stretching before them like a dark, endless road.

Together, they ran, their pasts chasing them like ghosts in the dark, driven by a singular, burning hope: freedom, at any cost.