Cool Hand Luke - Donn Pearce [64]
I lay there without moving, wondering who was next. I didn’t think that Koko wanted to go because he had already accumulated too much extra Time with his previous escape attempts. And everyone knew that Dragline was still waiting for his parole to come through. But I had no idea of who else was in on the deal nor was there any way of knowing how many men might try to seize on an unexpected opportunity. I shut my eyes, suppressing a giggle as I saw a magnificent panorama of escape, the entire Family deciding to try a mass break for freedom with everyone streaking off into the darkness and the confusion in a dozen different directions. But as for myself I knew that I could never make it. The idea of running away from it all was one that I had long since given up as hopeless.
Then Society Red sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bunk.
Giiiyaaa!
eeaaa!
After going off to the toilets, urinating, flushing the bowl and sleepily ambling back to his bunk, Society Red picked up his clothes and shoes wrapped up in a tight package, silently crossed the room and ducked down through the hole. In another minute Blackie followed the same procedure as Dragline eagerly flipped through the pages of another book and shoved it under Carr’s nose. Meanwhile Koko lay there on his side watching the parade. I could see him itching and squirming, waging a tremendous battle with temptation, the escape hatch to freedom yawning wide open right beside him. And I knew just how he felt. In spite of everything I too was beginning to feel those ancient notions stirring inside myself.
Then there was a rattling noise outside. The six-foot fence proved to be difficult to get over, the brackets on top of the steel posts supporting the barbed wire making climbing very hard. In the process of grabbing for hand holds and toe tolds Cool Hand’s shoes slipped and scraped against the chain link netting. The Wicker Man heard the sound and raised his head to listen, his unrestrained voice booming out loud in the disciplined silence of the Building.
HEY CARR! WHAT’S THAT OUTSIDE?
Koko had just been sliding one leg out from under the covers when the alarm was sounded. Swiftly he withdrew it and rolled over, turning his back on the whole affair. Carr threw down the book and ran over to the window, shading his eyes and trying to look out beneath the propped-up wooden shutters. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of Luke running off into the orange groves, revealed in the dim glare of the small spotlights fitted on top of the truck garage.
Hey! Somebody’s out there, Boss!
The two men under the Building were trapped. Blackie tried to retreat, crawling back to poke his head up through the hole. Carr spotted him, rushing over all out of breath, grabbing him by the arm and heaving, yelling out to the Wicker Man.
I got one of ‘em Boss! They cut a hole right through the god damn floor! Right through the fuckin’ floor! But I got one of ‘em! Its’ this Blackie bastard!
And Blackie hung there in the Floorwalker’s grip, dangling like a stricken marionette stuck in the trap door of a stage show.
The Wicker Man ran outside on the porch and beat the hell out of the brake drum, giving a loud and frantic alarm. Then he stumbled around the Building with a flashlight and his pistol just in time to catch Society Red before he jumped off and ran, a towel wrapped round his waist, his clothes and shoes in his hands, posed on top of the fence like a bird.
The rest of us were snoring like mad. Butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths. But I for one had to bite a wad of sheet and cover my face to keep from bursting out with laughter. And Dragline didn’t even bother to pretend, his great belly and chest jiggling up and down as he breathed in harsh, smothered gasps of mirth.
Lights went on in the Guard Shack. Feet scraped and pounded here and there on wooden floors and porches. The gate squeaked, doors banged, motors started. The dogs were barking and howling in hysterics, trying to tear down the fence to their pen. Back and forth across the yard