Diary of an Ugly Duckling Langhorne, Karyn (reading rainbow books txt) 📖

and

peering into cells to insure that “lights out” rules

were being strictly complied with, she expected a

quiet-enough night.

Which was a good thing, with the world flipped

upside down.

Her mother confessing to a long-ago passion of

which she was the product; meeting Laine and find-

ing, for the first time, the beauty in her old image,

now that it was nearly impossible to retrieve it for

herself; Art suddenly turning evasive and quiet,

treating her with a courtly arms-length distance

and sudden formality that seemed particularly

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319

strange after all their intimacies. It was as though

she’d gone on the Ugly Duckling show to turn the

tables, but they’d all ganged up and spun the tables

on her.

“You know how to whistle, Audra . . .”

His voice sounded so near, Audra started, peer-

ing down the dimly lit hallway, half expecting to

see his tall, broad form emerge from the shadows.

She thought she heard the echoes of footsteps—

there were several other COs on the floor, pa-

trolling at intervals through the sleeping prison.

Art worked nights from time to time, so it could be

him . . .

But the sound died as she concentrated on trying

to decipher it. Instead, another sound, like a faint

whisper, seemed to taunt her through the rails of a

cell halfway down the hallway.

She moved along the corridor toward the sound,

straining her ears to translate it into words—if in-

deed it was words. It sounded more like the moan of

an inmate in trouble or pain.

She touched her communication device, reporting

quickly the nature of the sounds and her location,

according to procedure.

“Find out which unit it is, then wait for backup,”

came the expected response from the Central Con-

trol. Audra acknowledged, then crept down the hall

toward the sound.

It came to her again, a low moan, a definite sound

of sickness or pain. Audra pulled her flashlight from

her hip belt and peered into cell after cell, looking

for the source of the sound until she saw him, curled

up in a tight ball on his bunk, holding his stomach.

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Karyn Langhorne

“Ugghhh . . . ” the man moaned. “Ugghh . . . ”

Audra shined her light along the cell number,

reaching for her walkie-talkie again.

“Officer . . . Officer . . . Marks?” the inmate stut-

tered, breathless with pain. “Oh . . . thank . . . God.

Help me! H—help— ahhhhhh! ”

If she’d thought about it or been focused enough

to be suspicious, she might have wondered how he

knew it was she. But between her own distractions

and the man’s howl of pain, Audra was swept away

by concerns for the man’s well-being.

“What’s the matter?” she shouted into the cell.

“What’s wrong?”

The man let out another low moan . . . and then

fell silent. Audra could hear nothing, not even the

ragged sounds of breath.

“Hey!” Audra shouted, already reaching for the

card key that would open the cell door. “You okay in

there?”

Silence was the only response. Audra hurriedly

slid the card key through a slot on the cell panel, and

punched in her code, wishing that the lights weren’t

on a central system at the other end of the hall. But

still, the door slid open quickly and she stepped in-

side, hurrying toward the room’s single bunk.

“Hey! You okay?” she began, bending toward the

man.

He was on her in an instant, pouncing catlike as he

grabbed her arms, pulling her down on the narrow

bed beneath him. Before she could struggle or cry

out, he’d clamped a sweaty palm over her mouth

and slid her gun out from its holster, pressing it tight

against her temples.

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321

“Thanks for making this easy, bitch,” he hissed in

her ear. He paused and she felt his fingers groping

her breasts. “You’re half the woman you used to be.”

Haines. Audra knew the voice, even if his face

were barely visible in the low light.

“Yeah, a man might actually like to fuck you now.

And trust me, I will. But first you gonna help me

walk right out of this prison, okay?” He jabbed a

knee into her abdomen, hard enough to take her

breath. “That’s for busting my damn ribs,” he mut-

tered, then raised himself off her, still holding the

gun’s cold metal against the skin covering her skull

and her brain.

Audra lifted herself slowly off the bunk, her

brain racing. Central Control had already dis-

patched other officers, based on her report, but it

was pretty clear that Haines intended to hold them

off, using her as shield. And as if he’d plucked

the thought out of her brain, the man grabbed her,

thrusting her in front of him, his fingers tight

around her neck just as they heard footsteps ap-

proaching.

“Don’t you dare say a word.” He tightened the

grip around her neck. “Not one fucking—”

Audra thrust out an elbow, jabbing the man so

hard in the solar plexus that the gun slipped from

its station against her temple. In the fraction of the

man’s surprise, she bent forward at the waist sud-

denly, working with his headlock to flip him over

her shoulder, like she’d been trained to do in the

inmate restraint workshops and the self-defense

classes that were the cornerstone of a corrections of-

ficer’s training.

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Karyn Langhorne

The maneuver just barely came off before bang!

the report of the gun filled the air, echoing in Au-

dra’s ears in the darkness, followed an instant later

by the sound of metal hitting the hard surface of the

floor. She dropped to her knees, her eyes acclimat-

ing to the darkness, feeling around for the weapon.

Her hand closed around something smooth and

hard .. . just as Haines grabbed her ankle and

yanked, pulling her away from it and tighter into his

wiry arms.

They both heard the footsteps clattering toward

them; they both heard the voices.

“Help!” Audra shrieked, bellowing the words at

the top of her lungs as she struggled and kicked—

not only in the hope of freeing herself, but in the

hope of kicking the gun away in the process, mak-

ing it impossible for Haines to retrieve it without re-

leasing her. “Help!”

“Shut up!” Haines hollered, hoisting her to her

feet like she was nothing and shoving her against

the bunk again. With catlike grace, he stooped, feel-

ing the floor in the low light, furtive and deter-

mined, even