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  Alone

  Jason thornton

  Copyright 2009 by Jason Thornton

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Alone

  Copyright © 2009 JASON R. THORNTON

  ALONE

  I was sitting at the main desk, entering the last group of arriving work release inmates into the computer log, when the power flickered. It was 8 pm and work had finally quieted down so I could catch up on entering information into the log. I cursed loudly as the building lights and computer blacked out, knowing I'd have to re-enter the last 2 hours of the log.

  I sat back as the computer rebooted and looked around. Everything seemed normal, all the camera's had come back online immediately. Sometimes when the power goes out, we have to go upstairs and reset the fuses to get our electronics running again. I noticed that the generator light was on, meaning the back up generators had kicked on with the power interruption. If the generators were on, it meant we'd wouldn't have any Internet access, since the computer routers weren't tied into the generators.

  I got up from my desk and locked the door leading into the unit. As I locked the door, I noticed that the unit was in total disarray. I'd have to speak with the inmate’s about people doing their chores and cleaning up their messes in the day room. After locking the interior door, I went outside. As I opened the front door, I immediately heard the rumble of the generators. It was probably overkill having such a large generator for our small 100 bed facility, but who's complaining when you‘ve still got power? I looked up and saw several aircraft cruising high up in the sky, leaving silvery contrails in the golden glow of an early summer evening.

  I walked back into the unit and saw that the computer had rebooted. I logged back on, reopened my log, and entered the time of the power spike. I also noted that the generator had activated. Then picked up the unit intercom and called for my two lead inmates so that they could get the unit straightened up. I waited several minutes and called for them again.

  As I waited for them, I watched the video monitors to see if they were on their way to the office. As I was watching the monitors, I noticed something strange. I didn’t see anyone within the unit. Only about 4 or 5 people had gone outside to walk the track, which meant there should be people everywhere and in every conceivable section of our tiny unit. I didn't see a single person, not on the upstairs monitor, the door monitors, or the day room monitor. Not one.

  I checked to make sure I had my radio and keys, then shoved a large can of pepper spray into my pocket.

  As I stepped into the day room and let the door lock behind me, I had a feeling that things weren't right.

  I really couldn't believe the condition of the day room. There were food and drinks spilled onto all of the tables and the floor. There were clothes strewn about everywhere. The television was still blaring loud. I wondered if there might have been a fight. The inmates will make themselves scarce after a fight to avoid being singled out for questioning or injury checks. I glanced into the kitchen. It was still locked and I didn't see anyone inside. As I walked upstairs I looked for clues of a fight, perhaps blood, something, anything…nothing.

  I opened the door to the upstairs dorm. There are 6 bunks that I could see immediately from the tier door. They were all empty. The inmate’s televisions were on but no one was watching them. I could also hear water running in the bathroom. That was all I heard. I put my hand in the pocked with the pepper spray and entered the tier. I headed towards the bathroom. As I went, I noticed that every bunk was empty. Most of the bunks were unmade and the locker doors were open. Again, I saw a mass of filth. Just like the dayroom, there was dumped food to scattered clothing everywhere. I looked in the bathroom and saw a running facet. No one was here. I turned off the faucet and saw a tooth brush and tube of tooth paste inside the sink. I looked in the stalls. Someone had thrown a pair of sweat pants into a toilet, the legs draping from the front and onto the floor. Nasty.

  I left the bathroom and slowly walked the rest of the tier. Not a single person was present. "What the hell?" I thought.

  I left the upstairs and headed back to the first floor living area. The same thing. No one was there either.

  I was beginning to panic. No correctional officer wants an escape on his shift, but having a whole unit escape. This was getting to be too much. I’d be writing reports for days, sitting in front of review panels, and apologizing to every warden known to man. And of course I’d probably have to inventory every one of the missing inmates personal belongings by myself.

  I went back to the office and looked outside, hoping to catch sight of the inmates that had gone outside to walk the track. Nothing.

  I grabbed the radio and called our main control office, "Control, this is the work center." I waited half a minute and called again, "Control, this is the work center, I have a situation, a possible escape. I need assistance now." I waited another half minute and called again "Control, work center“. I picked up the phone and dialed their number. After the automated answer system I was directed to the control room. The phone rang, and rang, and rang...I waited for a minute before hanging up. I couldn't believe this, it couldn't be happening to me. It was just too much.

  One by one I began to call the senior staff and every time I either got a busy signal or an answering machine. I began to cuss, loudly. I tried the radio one more time, nothing.

  Frustrated I stepped outside. I looked to the north, towards the airport. Without any idea of what to do I watched a jet approach the airport from the east. The airport is about 5 miles from the prison, but we can watch the aircraft clearly for most of their descent. Slowly the jet flew lower and lower, finally dropping below the hills and into the valley. I turned away briefly to think about what I was going to do. About fifteen seconds later I heard a dull rumble and looked back towards the airport. As I watched, I saw a dull red and black plume of fire and smoke rise from that direction. I just stared in awe. Did I just see a jet plane crash?

  I tried the radio again, then went inside and got a drink of water.

  As I sat back down at the desk I tried to think. The power had flickered and I couldn't get through on either the radio or the telephone. The unit was completely empty. As I listened to a hard rock band on the radio, I made a decision that I would drive over to the main compound to get some help. I had to get word that I had just lost nearly 100 inmates.

  I grabbed a set of keys to one of our minivans and stepped outside. I took a moment to survey my surroundings again. I looked towards the airport and saw that thick black smoke continued to rise. More troubling though, was that the smoke wasn’t just rising from the air port. As I surveyed the valley, I saw smoke rising from different areas in the north, the west, and the east.

  Towards the east I could see the yellowish gray-ocher smoke of brush fires. They looked to be near the freeway. Towards the city, north and west, the smoke was thick and vivid black. I tracked the smoke into the sky and once again saw the high contrails of passenger jets continuing to cruise the skies. Perhaps the inmates were aware of the fires and airplane crash, and decided on some rash action. I was still confused.

  I got into the minivan and began driving to our central control. There are six distinctive correctional facilities located within three miles of each other. My work site and our central control were the most distant f
rom each other, but the drive would only take a minute or two.

  The closest facility was a privately run corporate prison that was immediately adjacent to ours. I thought nothing of it as I passed by without seeing their outside patrols. In general their facility and ours completely ignored each other.

  I took the most direct route, a dusty gravel road, that bypassed all of the rest of the other prison facilities. As I approached our control center and the main gate of the minimum security prison my confusion arose anew. Right in front of the entry gate were piles of clothing, red t-shirts, blue jeans and the heavy boots of the inmate work crews all lined up as if ready waiting to enter. Just off to the side of the line was a pile of clothes belonging to staff. I could see a department badge, radio and duty belt. I parked the van, pulled out the can of pepper spray and approached the control center.

  I looked into the control center. Various lights from electronic communication equipment and the computer monitor were visible, but I couldn't see anybody inside. It was supposed to be staff 24 hours a day. I knocked loudly on the window. Nobody acknowledged. After a minute, and perhaps foolishly, I entered the doors to the administration building. I could hear an FM radio playing in a back