Head Full of Ghosts

Chapter 10 - A Knife Put in Your Back

When morning came, Kevin rose almost with the sun and waited for someone to come and release him. But time dragged on, and after a while it felt like more than an hour had passed and still nobody came. The day had brightened completely through the window, the minutes were rolling by, but still he saw no one.

"Hey!" He called loudly toward the door of the room, and when, after a minute, the door remained closed, he called it again.

Still without an answer, he called several more times in a row, and finally someone opened the door. It was an annoyed looking deputy who crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the door frame.

"What do you want?" the deputy demanded.

"Where's the sheriff?"

"Busy," the deputy replied, and started to close the door.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Kevin called out to him, and the man did pause. "When am I getting out of here? I need to leave."

The man leaned into the room just enough to shoot Kevin a doubtful look. "You're never getting out of here," the deputy said, and closed the door.

"Hey! Hey! What's that mean? What do you mean I'm never getting out of here? Hey! Come on!" He began pounding on the bars and shouting more, but the man never came back into the room.

After a while Kevin collapsed on the cell bed in defeat. He stared at the door for a long time, as though willing it to open, and then looked around the room. He looked very slowly and deliberately, cataloguing every little thing in the room, no matter how far away. When he was satisfied with his work, he got up and started pacing.

After a while he tried sitting on the bed again, but found he couldn't relax. He wasn't used to being in such a confined area and not having the goal of moving on ever further and farther. He couldn't stand the thought of sitting still. He had to move on. He had to leave.

He climbed down onto the floor and checked around under the bed to see if anything was under there. Then he got up and started pacing again. Just when he was absolutely sure he would go insane with the claustrophobia, the door finally opened.

It was Mills.

"Finally!" Kevin shouted. "Open this door and get me out of here so I can get out of your town."

Mills had barely moved from the door, and just stood there, watching him, for an uncomfortably long time.

"Well?" Kevin asked.

"I don't think I made myself clear last night," Mills said. "You're not ever getting out of there."

"You're insane," Kevin replied.

"Pot... kettle," said the sheriff.

"Look, come on, it does you no good to hold me here. Just let me go and you'll never see me again."

"You don't get to walk into my town, do what you did to my people, and then walk out again like nothing happened."

"Why not? What good does keeping me here do anyone?"

"In a civilized society, people get put in jail for committing crimes."

"Oh that's bullshit and you know it! In a civilized society, the true criminals have money so they pay to not be bothered, and those hurt by their crimes are the ones who get punished."

"Wow. You can't stop moralizing for one second, can you?"

Kevin took a deep breath, realizing he was losing control. The confined space was doing that to him. "Look, what I'm saying is, I didn't do anything to those people that they didn't deserve. And if the only way that justice was going to happen was through me, then I'm glad it did."