The Beasts of Juarez R.B. Schow (reading the story of the .TXT) 📖

her, and then it all came back to him. He thought he’d had a dream, but it was no dream. “Why are you here?”

“We need you, but Dicampli got one over on me. He screwed us both and he might have gotten four people killed.”

“Dicampli is a jackass.”

“No kidding.”

She started to tell him what had happened with the Fox family when he heard activity outside the door.

“Shhh,” he told Cira. “Wait a second.”

The door opened. He lifted a hand to block out the light. A set of clothes was thrown at him, hitting his arm. Then someone threw one shoe at him, hitting him in the leg, and another, which bounced off his skull.

“Get dressed, maggot,” Dicampli snarled. “Cira, get up, you’re getting out of here, too.”

Atlas put on his clothes and shoes, and then he walked out into the hallway. Before he could turn his eyes from the light, a bag was pulled over his head. The guard gave his shoulder a shove, but he didn’t budge.

“I need to go to my cell first,” he said.

“You’re not going to your cell,” Dicampli replied, firm.

“Is the bag really necessary?” Cira asked. “He’s not a dog for God’s sake.”

“Yes,” Dicampli said. To the guard, he said, “He’s not going to his cell. Walk his ass out to transport then leave him with this blonde nightmare.”

“Take me to my cell, I need the photograph,” Atlas said. He’d missed seeing Alabama for so long that he needed to see her face again, even if the photo was a bit blurry and even if he’d committed her face to memory months ago.

“You’re not going to your cell so just shut up already,” Dicampli said.

“Just take him to his cell,” Cira said.

“You don’t get to talk in here anymore, young lady,” he hissed. “You’re not going to your cell, Atlas.”

He stopped walking, the guard bumping into him. “This is the hill I’m going to die on, Warden. And if you don’t take me to my cell, others will die, too.”

“Are you threatening me?” he said, now almost toe to toe with him.

“Yes, I am.”

A stiff shot to his kidney had him sucking air. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take a breath for a minute, that the wind was knocked out of him, so he drove a short elbow into the guard who ooofed and bent over by the sound of it. Underneath the bag, his frown turned into a hard grimace.

“Why don’t you hit me, Dicampli?” Atlas growled.

“I don’t hit prisoners,” he said.

“Take me to my cell right now or I don’t move a muscle from here on out.”

“For a picture?” Dicampli said. “Really?”

“Yes, for a picture.”

“This bitch ass prima donna,” Atlas heard Dicampli mutter. To the guard, Dicampli said, “Take this maggot to his cell but let’s make it quick. I’ve been put to a time limit I’d prefer not to exceed.”

“I see Leopold contacted you,” Cira said as they changed direction. She dropped the bait but Dicampli refused to bite. Atlas smiled inside his sack. He really did like Cira. “You’re up the creek either way, Dicampli. He’s going to turn you inside out and feed your guts to the rats for that crap you pulled.”

“Shut your mouth,” he hissed.

“You really should learn how to talk to a lady,” Atlas said.

“I hope you die out there,” Dicampli barked.

“That makes two of us,” he replied.

“You’re here,” Dicampli said, ripping the sack off of his head.

He heard Cira gasp at the sight of him. He didn’t care, though. He wasn’t there for the photograph, not entirely. But this moment…oh God, this moment he had to get all of this hostility out of him so he didn’t take it into the field and cost someone their life. That’s why he was there waiting for his cage door to open. The second it opened, he saw Baxter “Butane” Kirtman sitting on his bed wearing only his underwear. The creep was curled up with Atlas’s pillow.

BBK’s eyes went wide the second he saw him. Atlas was already in motion. He grabbed Baxter’s ankle and violently yanked him off the bed. The child killer and self-professed cannibal landed on his belly and his teeth on the concrete floor. Atlas looked over his shoulder in time to see the guard rushing in. He fired a side kick into the man’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him. He threw another kick and knocked him right out of the cell.

Back to BBK. He wasn’t moving, but that didn’t matter. Atlas jumped up, bent his knee then dropped all of his weight right on BBK’s spine, breaking it for sure. The serial killer didn’t move after that. He wasn’t dead, maybe just knocked out.

There was a scuffle at the door. Atlas glanced over his shoulder and saw Cira pushing Dicampli back so he couldn’t enter the cell. The guard was still sucking wind.

Atlas had made this opportunity for himself, so he needed to capitalize on it big time. This was how he would right an incredible wrong, not only for BBK’s abuse of his pillow and sheets but for all of the families whose kids were now dead and digested because of this repulsive blight on humanity.

Leaning down, Atlas saw broken teeth and blood all over the floor. He grabbed a handful of hair on the back of BBK’s head and then he cupped his chin in a tight grip.

“Don’t you dare!” Dicampli hissed.

Atlas looked back with a wicked grin, saw the guard recovering, then turned and cranked Baxter Kirtman’s neck so hard, it made a loud popping noise as it broke. Satisfied and standing up tall, Atlas rolled his neck, then looked down at the dead man and spit on him.

“Good