Muñeca - book three// prison break

2. The ghost

R O S A

This prison never sleeps, the hall lights were always shining into the cells, and men roamed the halls, mumbling and laughing.

When I couldn't sleep, I decided to do the same.

I wandered the halls, mostly looking for Michael's cell, I heard he recently moved to one of the nicer cells, one where the sun hits it just right.

I stopped as I saw Michael passed out on the bottom bunk, in a cell in the very corner of the whole building.

I slightly smiled as he slept soundly, other than the pounding heat.

He slept in his clothes, over his blankets, with something clenched in his hand.

I quietly went into his cell, I crouched down, I was so tempted to touch his scruffy face.

I did so, very lightly.

I kissed the corner of his mouth after making sure no one was looking.

"I'm okay, Michael." I whispered before I stood and left, wiping the tears from under my eyes.

-

I watched Michael and Whistler across the square, just talking.

James whistler was this Australian fisherman who apparently showed some guy somewhere he wasn't supposed to see, so now the The Company wanted him.

And that's where Michael came in, because some people heard about his special skill set, that he practiced regularly at Fox River.

Michael left, up to the cell hallways, and I followed.

He stopped at a window, probably checking for any weak spots.

He seemed like he was acting fine after he met with Lincoln so either he no longer cares or Linc didn't tell him.

My money was on the latter.

Whistler brushed past me, going for Michael, I watched carefully as they quietly argued about a book and what really mattered.

"This, is what really matters to me. This is why I'm here." Michael held up the polaroid picture of me with the newspaper from a few days ago.

I sighed as I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wall.

I decided I needed to tell Michael that I was here, and that I'll help, but he can't tell anyone I'm alive, or else LJ will die.

Michael walked past me, as he glanced, I pretended to tie my shoe.

-

M I C H A E L

"What's his deal?" I asked my new, young friend, Grady, everyone called him that because we wore a McGrady jersey.

"Nobody knows.. There's rumors circling that he killed many men, a lot of them were the police that went after him, after he killed some well-known drug lords." He said as he kept shooting the basketball, hitting the wall where there was a basketball hoop painted on.

"He's called the ghost because he doesn't get into any business around here." He said as I stood in the square, watching the mysterious man with the hood and cap.

"No one has even heard his voice, but people say he's young." Grady said and I lightly smiled.

Young.

I closed my eyes as I remembered when I married Rosa Young -- Scofield.

I slightly smiled as I remembered her wonderful smile as we stood in a small chapel, I was so nervous.

She was too, she kept looking up at me as the priest spoke, but we loved each other and she had just been exonerated, but she still wore that hoodie I gave her, in Fox River.

"You have a girl?" Grady smirked because he knew what I was thinking.

I looked over at him before clearing my throat.

I glanced to see the ghost was gone, something seemed familiar about the small-framed boy.

I didn't know when or where, but I've seen him before and it wasn't in this hellhole.

--

"What's so interesting out there?" Whistler asked as he walked into my new cell, I stood near the barred up window, looking at the man who buries the dead bodies and the electric fence that wasn't electric anymore.

"Other than our freedom." "The vines alive. The fence is dead. No current." I said glancing at him before looking out the window again.

The only reason I was helping him get out of her in a very short time period, was because my wife and my nephew were kidnapped and being tortured and if I was late to break him out, they'd both die.

"Yeah? Everybody in here knows that fence doesn't work, and it doesn't mean a bloody thing, because there are soldiers out there that'll shoot you dead before you get within 30 yard of it." Whistler spoke quickly, always the bearer of bad news.

"Well, I guess I've got a lot of work to do, don't I?" I said turning to face him.

"Listen, mate, I get what you're doing with my book. They hold your girlfriend, you hold what they want. Countering needs. Churchill 101." Whistler sighed, "But, soon those bastards are going to ask me what progress I've made in figuring out what they want, and I'm going to say 'nil', because Lincoln Burrows has the book." He said and I looked up at him, squinting my eyes.

"You know what?" I said stepping down so I was on level ground again, "Threatening the brother of the guy who's supposed to get you out of here might not be the smartest move." I said walking towards him, standing in front of him.

"I'm not threatening-- we're on the same team." He tried to assure me, "But if we play games with that book, people who want me out of here will take action against us all."

"I never worry about action, only inaction. Churchill 101." I said before brushing past him.

--

"Michael.." Lincoln said holding onto the railing as he came to visit me.

"What's wrong? Did they hurt you?" I asked because he was sweating more than usual.

"I-I-" He stammered before he sighed loudly, "She's gone, man." He said and I gave him a confused look.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not accepting what I think he was trying to tell me.

"Rosa-- I-I was too late, Michael." "Linc, tell me what happened." I demanded, lowly.

"This isn't like Fox River man, I know she's gone. She's dead, Michael." He came out with it, "Rosa is dead. I'm so sorry, man." He spoke softly, he seemed sad, I think he really liked her.

"She-she can't be. She can't be dead." I shook my head, backing up.

Lincoln called my name, but I left back into the jail, I could feel everything shutting down.

The noises around me were silenced as I walked to my cell, I sat back on the bottom bunk of the bed, in the corner so no one could see me as I completely broke down.