A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [84]
Why are you trying to kill me?
Lincoln speaks. Quietly and calmly.
Roy?
Why are you trying to kill me?
We’re not trying to kill you, Roy.
They reach the bottom of the stairs and they stop.
Who is Roy?
Lincoln steps forward, the man stays.
Are you on something, Roy?
Roy jumps up and down on the couch. He shakes his stick.
I AM NOT ROY.
Lincoln steps forward.
Who are you?
My name is Jack and I’ll kill you. I’LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER.
Lincoln turns and nods to the man and the man starts talking into his radio. Lincoln turns back to Roy.
Hi, Jack.
I’ll bash your head in, you two-faced Bastard.
Why would you do that, Jack?
’Cause I’m a Killer. A cold-blooded mercenary Killer.
Two more men in gray arrive. The original man clears his throat. Lincoln turns around, motions them forward with his head, and steps toward Roy. The men reach into their pockets and they draw out latex gloves and they put them on.
Why don’t you give me the stick, Jack?
Roy shakes the stick.
This ain’t no stick, it’s a cudgel. A man-hammer.
The men move forward.
Why don’t you put down the cudgel, Jack.
Pry it from my cold dead fingers, Fuckface.
The men surround the couch, Lincoln stands in front of Roy. He is scowling and growling and moving in a circle to defend himself.
I’ll bash your heads in, you Cocksuckers.
Roy.
I’ll kill you to death till you’re dead and die, you Sons of Whores.
Roy.
The men are looking at Lincoln, Lincoln at Roy. Roy spins, waving his stick and yelling.
I’m Jack the man-hammer. I’ll smash all of you to fucking bits.
Lincoln nods at the original man, who nods to the other two men. When Roy turns his back, one of them tackles him from behind, sending his stick into the air and his body to the ground. The other two immediately jump on top of him and they grab his arms and as they try to subdue him he claws at them and he tries to bite them. When he knows he’s done and beaten he starts screaming screaming screaming. Screaming. Like a Child being burned alive.
Most of the Unit’s men have gathered on the Upper Level and they are watching as the men pick Roy up. One of them has his legs, one has his lower arms and lower torso, the third has his upper arms and upper torso. They carry him up the stairs and out of the Unit and his screams continue as they move through the Halls. Though they are certainly taking him to an unpleasant place, I doubt it will be any worse than the place he was just in. It couldn’t be. His screaming. No fucking way.
Lincoln, who has been silently watching, turns to us.
Show’s over, Boys. Go back to bed.
No one moves.
Go back to bed.
No one moves. Ted speaks.
You ain’t got nothing else for us?
A couple of laughs. Lincoln stares at Ted.
It’s not funny, Ted.
Ted speaks.
I thought it was.
Lincoln ignores him.
Go back to bed, everybody. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.
He stands and he stares until some of the men start trickling out. When they do, he walks up the stairs and he leaves. I am wide awake and I am not going back to bed. Even if I went back to bed, there is no way I could sleep. The screams are echoing in my mind. The image of the blood and spit will not leave me. The words I am not Roy are alive inside. The emptiness and insanity in his eyes haunt me. I am not going back to bed. The screams were like a Child being burned alive.
I walk over to the coffee machine and I start making the day’s first supply. I fill the filter with cheap, industrial grounds, I fill the tank with tap water, I push the on button. I stand and I wait as the water trickles through translucent brown and gurgles gurgles gurgles. When the water stops, I pour a cup of the coffee and I take a sip and it’s hot and it’s bitter and it’s good. No sugar and no cream it’s hot and bitter and good. I am not going back to bed. I am going to need the coffee. I am