MAX
Book 4
“Betrayal”
By
Simon King
Contents
By Simon King
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 1
1.
Remember when I said that everyone, whether it’s sentenced prisoners, those on remand, officers or even the visitors themselves are all caught within the chains of time itself? Well, sometimes time also dictates the speed with which it passes. Like when you’re sitting at a football match instead of the dentist’s chair.
The death of little Katerina Traiforous weighed heavier on me than most people. I was, after all, the only real connection to the murder who was left. Both Danny and Sam were both dead, while Frank couldn’t have been happier. That just left Nick and he’d remained in the hospital wing for close to a month before being moved into a smaller unit of the Palace.
I didn’t hear much more about him for a long time. I’m not sure why, but I think Frank enjoyed knowing that Nick would live in perpetual mourning for the rest of his days. It was what Frank lived for; a monster happy to inflict the worst type of suffering imaginable. I’m not sure whether he allowed himself to believe it, but things would never be the same between us. For me, the moral line had been crossed by a long way.
2.
Life in Yellow unit continued with its own repetitive cycle. Crooks came and went, some from the outside, others from within the prison. Sometimes familiar faces would show up, most times they were new. But everyone was subject to the same routine, regardless of who they were. You had to contribute the family.
Frank insisted on me greeting new arrivals, often assigning someone to follow me around. I kept my enthusiasm up on the outside, but inside I cringed at the mere thought of attending Frank’s cell or joining any of the group for meal times. All except Jack. He was one of the very few I still considered a friend. And that was because Jack was different from all the others.
3.
Sometimes planning for something can take up so much of your attention that you eventually lose sight of the end goal, too caught up in the preparations to remember just what it is you were planning for to begin with. That’s how I felt the day my world was truly rocked for the first real time since the Traiforous kid died.
It wasn’t even some major event, more like some piece of crap floating past your window as it coasted along on the breeze. I remember the moment so vividly; it still gives me butterflies.
It happened in early March, 2004, a regular morning that felt like every other. The reason I know it was a Monday is because that was the day Costa always did the rounds for washing. He was one of those quiet crooks that only popped his head up when he needed to. He’d joined the Cruds long before I ever showed up in jail, a regular in the unit since the previous decade.
Costa had waited until everyone had finished breakfast, then doorknocked the lads and grabbed dirty washing bags. It was how he kept himself busy, his way of killing two birds with the one stone. Not only did it pass the day for him, but it also put him in good stead with the lads, everyone appreciating his help. They each paid him with cigarettes or soda, a worthy trade for all concerned.
I’d handed Costa my laundry bag as well as 2 bottles of Coke, then closed my cell door and sat on my desk near the window. The sun was streaming in and I wedged myself into the corner of the window ledge, reading Jack’s latest creation. It was a book he’d written as a kind of prequel to The Shining. Although not one of my favorites, I loved how Jack could make his books feel as if they were written by the master himself.
So, there I was, sunning myself and caught up in the history of the Overlook Hotel, when I happened to see movement from out of the window. I wasn’t going to bother looking, the story at a pivotal moment. But for someone reason I did, something I’m now grateful for.
There was a prisoner walking along the path between our units. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, one large enough to hold all of his belongings. The person was either moving units or going home. It wasn’t hard to tell which because of the spring in his step.
As I looked and saw the crook briskly walking in the sunshine, my stomach suddenly dropped, a sense of dread and anger trying to push the anvil that I felt I swallowed aside. The crook turned to look in my direction, saw my face almost pressed against the window and laughed.
Rock McGovern never broke stride, his grin suddenly wide enough to flash teeth. And that wasn’t all he flashed; his middle finger suddenly shoved in my direction as he changed his bag from one shoulder to the other. As if to make sure I didn’t miss his eventual destination, he pointed in the direction of the main gate, then saluted me a farewell as the officer opened the gate leading into the gym corridor.
Rock McGovern was going home. The man who I’d been training to kill, who’d organised to kill my brother, was getting released from jail. I’d missed my chance to avenge Aiden, the prick waltzing past me like a man untouchable. I had failed.
Sitting in that window and watching him disappear into the shadows of the corridor beyond the gate was the greatest wake-up call of my life. I screamed at the window as the screw locked the gate, McGovern was now gone completely. I made a pact that morning; a pact that held true for every day since. I would never let another opportunity pass me by.
4.
With Nick and his brother firmly out of the picture, Yellow Block now had its undisputed leader, Frank running the show
