"Behind Bars" (always open; PM hostess)

[CutiePie1997]

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"Behind Bars"

A post-apocalyptic story of survival
at
Clark County Correctional

Link to the Background (OOC) Thread

Charlotte Higgins stood in front of the American flag with only the slightest hint of a smile -- smirk, really -- as one of the other inmates used the processing camera to take her picture. Other inmate was the proper phrase, of course, because while Charlie was now the self-appointed Warden of Clark County Correctional, until just a few days earlier she'd actually been sitting on Death Row for the brutal slaying of a drug king pin and most of his cohort.

You wouldn't know by looking at her now that she'd been locked up in Three C for the past 8 years awaiting her execution: convicts for whom lethal injection was a certainty didn't normally strut around their prison like free range chickens on the farm, particularly with a law enforcement badge on one hip and a Beretta 94F 9mm on the other.

The pandemic had changed all that, of course. This latest plague -- a viral hemorrhagic disease that came to be called the Red Flu -- had left the earlier COVID-19 looking like a bad cold. It had killed 90% of the world's population in under 5 years and was continuing to kill people with its multiple, vaccine-resistant variants.

Charlie was among the estimated 5% of the human population that had a natural immunity to the disease. The other 5% of current survivors were those who simply hadn't been infected yet but, with certainty, one day would.

Clark County Correctional had escaped the virus initially. The prison was remotely located, more than 30 miles from the nearest town; its staff and their families had lived on-site, with most of their pre-pandemic needs filled by a weekly delivery service that followed the most strict of protocols; and a total lockdown and other precautions had been instituted early at CCC, not like what had been done with prisons in 2020, a misstep that had allowed COVID to run through local, county, state, and federal prisons like wildfire in the California mountains, killing thousands of inmates and staff alike.

But it was inevitable that the Red Flu would reach the incarcerated population eventually. B-Wing with its inmate population of almost 200 -- which wasn't maximum security and still had a few visitors even during the pandemic, including friends, family, lawyers, etc. -- was struck by the virus first. From there, the plague began working its way through A-Wing, which had a male maximum security population of just under 50. C-Wing, the female max with an equivalent number of inmates and from which Charlie hailed, was the last hit.

Once the Red Flu had made its way through the facility, fewer than 40 inmates were still alive, despite new protocols that the Warden had instituted to protect the inmates and staff alike. Unfortunately for that staff, these new steps eliminated just enough security steps to allow Charlie to come to power. She overwhelmed her watchers while in the infirmary one day, took hostages, and -- because the Warden had run off and the Deputy Warden had died of the Red Flu -- negotiated with the most senior of the Correctional Officers a deal that no one would ever have imagined: "Take your staff and leave."

Oh, there was more to it than that, of course, but in the end Charlie was large and in charge, with the keys and codes to go anywhere she wanted. She'd kept her end of the bargain, releasing her hostages once she knew she had total control and wasn't about to be captured or killed by an ambush. There had been no trap in play, of course: the COs and remaining staff didn't give a rat's ass about the inmates on only wanted to get the fuck out of Dodge.

Ironically, four of the staff pleaded to be allowed to remain in the facility, despite now being at the mercy of a former Death Row inmate. They were more than fully aware of just how much scarier and more dangerous the world beyond the bars had gotten. Charlie had told each of them that they could remain, so long as they could work within this New World Order, as she'd called it. They all agreed, yet on the first day, one of the men tried to overwhelm and disarm Charlie. She put a bullet in his head, then threatened the others. Again, they begged for mercy, and again Charlie gave them a chance.

Using the color printer in the Main Office to print her portrait, Charlie strode off down the main passageway. She carried with her a remote and a set of master keys that allowed her to locally operate any gate or door. Using them, she assembled all of the surviving convicts in the Dining Hall, telling them to play nice with each other. When a beef erupted between two rival gang members and one shivved the other, Charlie very calmly pointed her pistol as the knife-wielding man and put a round through his forehead.

"Now, are we all ready to play nice?" she asked in a calm voice. Once everyone had settled down, she mounted one of the dining tables and laid it out for them. "You are no longer convicts. You are no longer inmates. You are free to leave Three C, right now."

She nodded to one of the staff members, an Infirmary Nurse, who was standing at an exterior door. The woman inserted the key, and Charlie operated the remote. The door unlocked, and the Nurse opened it wide. Charlie looked to the group and informed them, "The pedestrian gates to the outside world are unlocked. This is your one and only opportunity to leave."

"What's the catch?" one of the inmates called out. "Are the guards waiting out there to mow us down with rifles?"

"The guards are gone, the staff is gone, the Warden is gone," she told them, adding, "Actually, the Warden is dead."

There was a cheer, followed by more questions about what was happening. Charlie explained, "There is nothing keeping you here any longer. You are free. It's that simple."

She gestured to a table on which were dozens of filled plastic bags. "The ones to the left are filled with food. The ones to the right, water and other things you might need. Take one of each and hit the road, if that is what you wish to do."

"What's the option?" another inmate called out even as some of the convicts were already moving -- some hurriedly -- for the bags. "Sounds like you're giving us a choice, so, what's the other choice?"

Charlie looked out upon the group of men and women, smiled, and answered, "You can stay here. You can live here as free people, not inmates."

She watched and listened to the reaction, which was mostly one of disbelief, accented by laughter and barbs of a profane nature. She continued, "We have everything we need here to survive this plague: food, water, shelter, energy, and 14 acres of arable land on which some of you have already been farming for years."

She looked directly at one of the inmates, a lifer who had worked the farm since arriving here 30 years ago and had become Manager of it four years earlier. Looking at her but speaking to all of the inmates, Charlie said, "We can grow our own food and raise out own meat, something the farm workers had been doing on a partial basis for decades. But now, with only the number you see around you, we can fully feed ourselves--"

"With you in charge!" one of the male lifers called out. He looked around for support in his challenge of Charlie and got it. Several of the men moved nearer the man, nearer Charlie, or a combination of both. The man then started moving forward himself, adding as he did with a harsh, menacing tone, "Why the fuck should a Slit be in charge? What's gonna keep us from--"

Charlie didn't hesitate: she raised the sidearm and pulled the trigger, sending the man's blood and brain matter upon the half dozen or so men who'd also been moving her way in challenge. After everyone had ceased freaking out, Charlie turned enough to stick her photo to the wall with the double sided Scotch tape she'd already applied to it. She said, "I need each and everyone of you to listen closely to me when I say this. I am the new Warden of Clark County Correctional. Unlike our previous Warden, I will kill anyone of you whose gives me shit, and I will do it without discussion and without warning."

She hesitated a moment for reaction, but other than some hard looks and a few whispers, there wasn't much, not while she was the only one packing heat. In a calmer tone, Charlie went on, "Listen ... we have an opportunity here, to start something new, something peaceful, something prosperous. A new life! A new beginning, without locked cells, without one hour a day exercise sessions, without COs manipulating us and abusing us and bringing us down with all their shit. This can be a home, not a prison."

Charlie looked to the man on the floor, his blood slowly widening in a pool about his head. The holstered the Beretta, telling them in a sincere tone, "His death can be the last act of violence in this place, if only you -- each and everyone one of you -- can make a commitment to live in peace and harmony with one another."

She looked for reactions again, and on at least a few of the faces, Charlie thought she was seeing positive expressions. Some of the others looked doubtful, though, leading her to say, "I know, it sound like one big fucking outrageous fairy tale. Look at who we are, a bunch of convicts: thieves, rapists, murderers, arsonists, and more. But that was who we were! We can stop being those people. We can start over. We can be ... hell, we can be good people, if only we try."

Charlie held up the remote for all to see, explaining what it did and that it was particular to her thumb print and Bio readings. She added, "Every four hours, if I don't enter a code, all of the gates and doors in this place close. They won't open again, ever! You'll be trapped wherever you are at the time. Which means you die: starve, dehydrate, whatever, you're dead. You can't get out, and no one can get to you to give you what you need to live.

"Why am I explaining this? Because I want you to understand that it isn't just the gun on my hip that puts me in charge."

Again, she scanned the faces. With a smile meant to reassure them all, Charlie said, "Listen, this isn't about my wanting control. This is about us needing someone to be in control, someone we can all trust to lead us in the right direction. A benevolent dictator, let's call me. I promise you, if you just give this a chance, you won't be sorry."

With a bit of a harsher tone and expression, Charlie told them, "But I also promise you this: I will not tolerate violence, I will not tolerate deception, I will not tolerate unfairness. We are all going to treat one another with kindness. If you don't think that you can do that..."

Charlie looked to the open door, then back. "...then take your two bags of goodies and get the fuck out of my prison. But I'm going to tell you this here and now, one time and one time only: the punishment for crime in the New Clark County Correctional only comes in two forms, banishment to that dying world out beyond the bars ... or execution, here behind bars. Three C is now a crime free zone. You violate the law, you leave ... or die. And again, if you don't like it, there's the door."

Even before she'd finished, a dozen men and women had already left. Now, a dozen more headed for the bags and door. When the Nurse closed the door finally, Charlie was looking down upon 24 people. She smiled. "Ok, so, let's make a meal, sit, and talk ... about our future together."

 

[CutiePie1997]

Warden Charlotte Higgins watched from near the Staff entrance to the Dining Hall as inmates both served up dinner and filled their trays with the offered food. Early in the day, she'd discussed the future with half a dozen of her fellow incarcerated, such that the meal at hand had already been in the works.

She took a moment to study each and every face of each and every inmate as they filed through the chow line. Men and women alike were constantly giving her sharp glances, the expressions ranging from pride and loyal support to downright hatred and defiance. Charlie could see in the faces of at least 6, maybe 7 of the convicts -- mostly but not exclusively men -- that they didn't approve of her being in charge and, likely, would try to do something about it in the near future.

Charlie was going to have to make some friends.

The first step was to show the inmates that things were better under her than they had been under the County Prison Staff, and the first step of that was a nice meal. The servings today were relatively substantial with a greater variety. This was ironic, of course: because there were only 25 people left in Clark County Correctional and because they'd only recently received a large pantry delivery, there was a lot of food to be had; yet at the same time Charlie knew that a certain level of rationing was going to be needed until the crops came in and some of the livestock was ready to be slaughtered.

Once everyone was seated, Charlie moved to the front of the long table at which most of them -- she'd had the other tables put away -- and began to explain her vision for the prison: no more locked cells or primary public areas, though places such as the pantry, armory, infirmary, etc., would still be off limits; everyone would have rights and responsibilities, which basically meant that everyone would be compensated for their work, work that was a requirement for continued residence; each person had a right and even an obligation to put in their two cents about the operation of the facility, and while she maintained veto power, Charlie vowed that she would do her best to follow the will of the people.

"Regarding security," she said, beginning on a topic on which others had already hinted. "The armory remained secured for now. No guns will be out and about. However, eventually people out there in the world are going to come a'knockin' at our doors. This may have been a place that no one out there in the world wanted to be in before, but with that world now falling apart, there are going to be people who want the security and safety these grounds and buildings can offer.

"So, over time, I will select people who be part of the perimeter security," Charlie went on, looking directly at some of those who she believed she might be able to trust, "and I will arm them for watch stations. Until then--"

She patted the Beretta on her hip, "--this is the only firearm that'll be outside the armory, I'll be the only one using it, and -- as I have explained before -- it's really not in anyone's interest to try to take it or the remote or the keys from me."

There were dozens of questions for which Charlie gave the best answers she had, but sometimes those questions were best answered by others:

One of the inmates had been a doctor on the outside, and after there were questions raised about the Red Flu and other traditional illnesses and ailments, Charlie asked him if he was willing to step up and be the new doctor.

A question about the food stocks and other inventory led to Hanna asking yet another inmate if he wanted to become the new Store Clerk. "You'll be in charge of inventory and rationing. You'll need to schedule out how much we can distribute ... and the rest of us will abide by those decisions."

Other jobs began to be assigned, from the farm to the ranch to custodial services. When some of the inmates grimaced at or talked down having to yet again be the prison's clean up people, Charlie said firmly, "No job will be looked at as menial anymore, nor will any worker -- not inmate -- be looked at as being menial. Everyone will participate in maintaining this place, which means that everyone at one time or another will pick up a broom or a mop or wash dishes in the scullery, etcetera."

"Including you?" someone asked with a snarl.

"Including me," Charlie answered. "I'll be washing the dishes you're eating off of."

She hadn't actually planned on doing a tour in the scullery today, but Charlie had realized immediately that a show of equality was needed. She talked about how everyone would be responsible for their own space, that the workers who had been bunking with others could find their own apartment now if they wanted to be on their own, and more.

"What about sex?" someone asked, leading to a round of laughs and crude comments.

"You wanna have sex, have sex," Charlie said. Then, conspicuously looking to the still-red spot on the floor where the now removed inmate had bled out, she said, "But it will be consensual!"

She looked directly at one man, then another who she knew were in her for rape before adding, "Anyone takes liberties with someone else without that second person's expressed permission, and I'll strap them up to a gate and personally cut off their junk and let'em bleed out. Understood?"

There was a quiet consensus for what Charlie was saying, and the group went on to discuss more of the details. She told them, "One last thing. Although they aren't here eating with us at the moment, we have 3 staff members who will be living with us as well. You all know these people. Some of you don't like these people, simply because they were staff and you were inmates.

"But you aren't inmates anymore and they aren't Staff," Charlie stressed. "We're all just people now, and we will all treat one another with respect. Just as with the crimes I've spoken about, rape only being one of them, if you harm a former Staff member simply because they were a Staff member, the punishment will be severe. Understood?"

Again, there was a quiet consensus, and when dinner was over, each of the former inmates dealt with their dishware and -- by Charlie's orders -- returned to their cells for the night. "Tomorrow, we begin our new lives. But for tonight, let's just take a moment, relax, and contemplate those new lives."

Over the next couple of hours, Charlie would visit a dozen or so of the residents to talk to them about their place in the new world they were going to build.

 

[justspitballing]

Jules Barker sat back and listened as Charlie put down before everyone how she felt the prison would be run from now on. Of course she had the only gun now available to ensure that it did go that way exactly. She went over security, chores and maintenance, and even some basic laws making it very clear that if sexual assault was to be tried there would be some dead bodies as a result.

Jules was very glad that Charlie was not one of his clients. She had never purchased from him any of his narcotics. They sold well for favors behind bars and Jules had managed to get his hands on a very good stash. Such small time crimes were very possible with the Red Flu. If Charlie was more aware of his crimes behind bars, heck, she may have already shot him too to make a point.

She would be aware though he did sell them. Everyone was to some extent. He would need to give her his stash if he didn't want her taking extreme measures against him. Of course there was his stash and then there was his back up supply. He had said back up hidden away in the mattress of his bed. He would take the risk and keep that, but he wouldn't trade a single bit of it until things calmed down a little. He was sure soon enough Charlie would have her hands full, that would be pretty understandable, and once she did it was back to the old routine.

Selling this stuff really didn't do much good profit wise behind bars, especially now, but it did cause a lot of other criminals to have your back, and to be honest, it's just the life Jules knew well and liked to live. He had no reason to fallow the law, not any longer.

After the meal with everyone else Jules was allowed to go back to his cell and once there he grabbed the drugs he was prepared to give over to Charlie. He knew he would be one of the inmates she would see to talk things out with, to make sure he was ready for this new world she was making and to make sure he would stay in line.

He rehearsed his words several times, getting ready for how he would respond. He had to get on her good side, had to convince her he would behave himself, even though he knew that he never would.

If she caught onto his lies he knew he would have the possibility of being dead, instantly. He had a few good scars and slight limp from the prison riot he was in, which resulted in a guard being badly hurt by his hand, which made sure he would be spending a long time behind bars. The Red Flu made sure he would be spending the rest of his entire life behind bars. But he didn't know how to fight, not for the life of him.

He was arrested for breaking and entering and some petty theft. The robbery had gone very, very wrong. He was behind bars, his sister was shot dead by the woman they were stealing from. That was really the extent of his crimes, that and the guard he hurt in the heat of the moment in a riot that had gone somehow just as wrong as the robbery.

But Jules looked like he could fight, and most of the time in prison life that was all you would need, but in this world, now Jules would also need to learn how to kiss ass and shut up. He was still going to see if he could trade and sell his goods, but he had no intent of being shot by the new warden. So he prepared his words for when she would come talking with him and put his stash before the bars, the back up still resting in the bed. After that he waited.

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

There was an immediate culture shock for Mack just being in the proximity of women again. Though Clark County housed both male and female inmates, the schedules and wing assignments were arranged in such a way that their paths never crossed—now, not only was he thrust back into the presence of women but was having the law laid down by one.

Mack nearly followed a pair of legs right out the door before fully understanding the proposition that Charlie was making them—he still wasn’t sure he understood. Charlie had a knack for talking out of both sides of her face, it seemed—going from the ‘rah-rah,’ free-at-last cheer captain to the severe, uncompromising task-master who held all their fates—quite literally—in her hand, so fast and frequently it almost gave him whiplash.

One thing was immediately clear. If Mack had any intention of sticking around the prison, he needed to stick close to Charlie and keep her safe. It wasn’t lost on him that circumstances entirely out of his control could conspire to leave him locked up to die slowly. It seemed obvious to Mack right away.

Charlie needed a bad cop.

Mack knew that he could be that for her, maybe more… or maybe it was just the power she wielded that made her so enticing to Mack’s below the waist area. If he’d been thinking clearly—and not awash in a sea of hormones, Mack probably would have grabbed his bags and left. Instead he stayed, far too curious to run away now.

Dinner didn’t do much to assuage Mack’s concerns—as Charlie continued to play ping-pong with herself. Yeah, free love! But even an accusation of sexual misconduct would trigger the all-torture-no-trial school of justice. No mention of whether they would be able to own things—possessions—or how to keep them secure (though he worried that it would be the threat of death).

Charlie asked if they understood, but it was clear that she wasn’t really asking. More like a dare to say something against her—which Mack had no intention of doing. He said nothing and returned to his cell no more certain than he’d been before. He still felt like a prisoner.

He needed a private audience with Charlie… a thought that sent his mind wandering. Did the carpet match the drapes? Flexible? No, those thoughts might get him killed. He’d need to find other means to impress his importance upon her—then he could press for the things he really wanted: ass, grass and a stash.

Mack turned on his desk lamp and opened a book.

It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live according to nature.

Mack closed the book and his eyes, perched with his back against the wall of his cell in the far corner of his bunk. He thought about those words deeply.

 

[LP1957]

Lou Edwards, convicted of murder some 4 years ago. For the first 6 months he got the respect garnered to those convicted of committing a killing. Despite his mouselike demeanor and diminutive size it was known he was capable of taking another life and therefore, to start his prison term at least, he was given a little range and respect.

Always a loner he would have been more than happy to be allowed to live out his 20 year sentence, (12 with good behavior) ignored and left alone. That was of course before the details of his “murder” became public knowledge to the prison staff and the rest of his fellow inmates.

It would seem that Lou, now 46 (42 at the time of his crime) had procured for himself a trophy wife. Ellen, 12 years his junior was a knockout. Her 5’4” frame was adorned with a pair of natural 34C breasts and a bubble butt that men would kill for. (And eventually Lou did just that)

Her small frame made his 5’9” 185 pound body look like they could be a couple. In reality Ellen had cuckolded Lou from the time they married right up until the end. The end which occurred at the time of their almost shared birthdays. Lou turning 42 a week before the incident which was on the day of Ellen’s 30th birthday.

Lou had planned a romantic night that Friday and planned to be home early from work. He had a full meal being delivered, a hired musician to play for them during dinner, and even a couple of masseuse therapists scheduled for a couples massage that evening.

Little was Lou aware that Ellen had made her own surprise plans for their communal birthday celebration. Arriving home 2 hours before his expected return Lou entered his bedroom to find Ellen on their marital bed with a large cock in each hand and a third stuffed right up her cute tight, little ass.

He was quite aware that she had partaken in a dalliance or 3 in their 4 years of marriage. But this was full out, in your face, “I’m going to fuck who and when I want.” Long story short Lou took exception and his softball bat and ended her life right then and there.

Midfuck, the two waiting cocks in her hands softened immediately as the one in her ass seemed to keep at it hoping to finish. When he raised the bat to the one fucking her the other two easily wrestled it away from him and commenced to beat the living shit out of him. He had spent 2 months in the hospital before being put in jail.

The circumstances of the murder were such that the judge took pity and instead of a life sentence only giving him the 20 years. Up until that time Lou had a zero criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket. Once the inmates found out his backstory. He was fair game to every horny inmate within reach.

Lou made his fortune, and not a small one at that, as a procurement specialist for a Fortune 500 company. He was a whiz at logistics and could find or solve any problem tasked to him. A skill that not only made him a fortune in the outside world, but also proved quite handy inside. He was still making deals on the side for those in the outside world which kept his commissary account full and enabled him to be very generous where he chose to be.

Lou was saved from multiple rape chances when Carlos, one of the most powerful and influential inmates saw that potential in him and put him “off limits” to the prisons thugs. It served him well for three and a half years, until Carlos was one of the first to contract the Red Flu and one of the first to die quickly from it.

If not for the mostly mandatory solitary confinement of the prisoners due to the virus he would most assuredly have lost the virginity of his backside in short order. His surviving prison bully, having already made claim to his ass.

Lou, fortunately, or not, had the natural immunity to the disease. His bully however did not. As they sat in the mess hall and listened to Charlotte (Charlie) Higgins layout her master plan for moving forward he could feel the mans eyes on him the whole time.

The moment Charlie pulled her firearm and coldly shot one of the prisoners for stabbing another Lou knew where he would need to place his alliance. As the seemingly new “Boss” made known that all were free to leave Lou hoped and prayed that this bully would take the bags and run. He did not though and stood steadfast. Lou even thought for half a moment of doing just that for himself but was afraid, even with his skill-set to venture out on his own. Not to mention that his suitor could just as easily follow him right out of the prison and that would be far worse.

One of his crew took exception to what Charlie was laying out and piped up “Why the fuck should a Slit be in charge? What’s gonna keep us from--” Shot down in mid sentence, while standing right next to the man that wanted Lou as his own. At least that was one less lieutenant he would need to worry about in the future.

By the time things had settled and those that were going had gone, Lou took a quick inventory as he was prone to doing. Counting out and sorting the 24 left he realized the men easily outnumbered the women left here. An occurrence that didn't bode well for Lou. His reputation for being able to get near anything into the prison proceeded him. He was even known on the female side for working deals through the guards to get the ladies anything they might desire. This included, but was not limited to phones, beauty supplies, and battery operated companions.

Though he had not met Charolette Higgins in person, he had made a deal or two for her in the past. He prayed that would be enough to get on her good side and provide him the protection he needed. He sat quietly awaiting his chance to talk with her as the meeting wound down.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Charlie looked up from her desk -- formerly the real Warden's desk -- and beyond the open office door to find Betty and two others heading her way with purpose. Once inside the ornately furnished space, Harvey Lewis -- the sole remaining Corrections Officer inside Clark County -- said with a firm voice, "I don't like this, I don't like this at all, and I want you to fucking fix it.

Charlie sat back in the squeaking, antique chair and Harvey explained, "In the two hours since dinner ended and you ordered everyone back to their cells -- which few of them have done -- we've had three violent encounters, including a three-on-one beatdown, a stabbing, and an attempted rape. What are you going to do about this?"

Charlie didn't immediately respond, instead just just nodding her head toward the bank of 6 monitors on the wall. She could look down on the prison from here, just as Harvey and his Corrections Officer brethren had from the Security Office.

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?" he went on. "I thought you said you were going to lock down the cells once everyone had returned to them."

Charlie answered with an apologetic tone, "Yes, that was a mistake on my part. I wanted to see whether or not they could handle the immediate and unexpected freedom without being locked down."

"And...?" he asked.

"Are the injured in the infirmary?" Charlie asked Betty.

After the Nurse nodded, Charlie stood and looked to the fourth person in the room. Maria Robertson -- the Black Book Madam -- had been in a solitary confinement cell across the passageway from Charlie for the past 3 years. They had spent hundreds, maybe thousands of hours talking, and Charlie trusted Maria more than anyone else in the prison.

"You need to lock it down, for now," Maria agreed.

Charlie went to the intercom and announced the acts of violence and how she was disappointed. She went on, "So, I've rearmed CO Lewis and given him orders to shoot to kill anyone not in their cell when he reaches the floor ... which I think will be in about 20 seconds."

Charlie returned the microphone to its cradle, and a moment later her lips spread in a smile: bodies were moving, some casually, some with haste, back to their cells. A moment later, the commons areas were cleared. Charlie pressed a button on the remote she'd shown the others, and all through the prison, gates and doors locked.

"So, I'm getting my weapon back?" Harvey asked expectantly.

Charlie laughed, turning back to her chair as she said, "Not a chance in hell. Go back to what you were doing, all of you. I have some people I want to speak with. We'll talk again in the morning, say eight o'clock."

(OOC: Sorry, I was going to respond to the IC posts above, interacting with those characters, but I just got called away to a family member's home for an emergency.)

 

[Homerun2611]

Steven Douglas, was not in the room as Charlie made her speech and made her first clear declaration of authority, but none of it surprised him, for they had talked, and for some reason Steven knew he already had her trust. For unlike the twenty plus inmates, Steven was one of the staff. He would have laughed if he had heard her say he had begged to stay, for it was really more a matter of he never considered leaving. For Steven had not been kept here and locked up, he was here because simply he had no place better to go, an assessment he was quite sure of.

Steven was thirty seven, and no matter how deadly or bad ass some of these inmates might be, none of them had his training or experience. You see, Steven was a 2005 graduate of the US Naval Academy. Graduating near the top of his class, he had welcomed the opportunity to become a Seal. From 2005 through 2015 Steven had seemingly visited every hell hole his government set fit to send in his particular skills to manage. What was that skill? Steven was an assassin, a very, very good one!

Charlie had apparently done some background checking, as she was familiar with his resume when he walked into her "office". He watched as she bristled and her hand naturally gripped the beretta as he entered. "You can relax, I don't expect you to trust me, but you can. I don't want trouble, but I don't want to leave either. I came here because I had no where to go, and if I didn't get some purpose for my life, I was going to die in some crack house." Steven had been honest. In 2016 Steven's world had come crashing down behind him, oddly enough this place was his salvation.

While he had gotten his target, in this instance a South American drug lord, who also happened to be the Dictator of his native land, the mission had gone wrong. Steven usually worked alone, but this time he had a partner. A woman who played the part of his girlfriend with the objective of seducing the target while he carried out his work. Mission accomplished, target poisoned and left dead, they were fleeing when she tripped a wire, severely cutting her leg. Steven knew the rule, he was to escape, she knew the risks, they all did, but he did not leave her behind.

He went back, and was caught. For nearly two months he was washboarded and tortured in every possible way. He never broke, but his body and mind did. When the Seal team found him he was shriveled in a ball, naked, and nearly out of his mind. It was six months of therapy before he uttered a word, and the PTSD haunted him still. It was 2019, the first pandemic, that Steven's therapist had found him the prison job. Technically he was the prison chef, really he was the cook. It was a skill he had cultivated in unusual ways. Often living on the run or in hiding, he was a survivalist, and could turn almost anything into a meal. But unlike most, he actually began to study different exotic herbs, grains and meats and could not only survive on anything, but make it taste damn good!

Steven did not live at the prison originally, he had a cabin near a local lake, less than 60 miles away where he had lived for the few years post release as a hermit, prior to getting the job. The job had suited him, gave him purpose, and enough interaction with human beings so he was not alone, but also didn't have to let anyone in. He worked, worked out, slept, read and farmed. The prison accommodated all of that, and they were all skills he knew the New Order would need.

He hadn't been back to his cabin in nearly 8 months, instead he had lived in a small set of barracks with Betsy and some of the other staft, each with their own, very humble studio. He liked it, it was simple, functional, efficient. He had promised Charlie that all he wanted was to keep his job, and he would make sure there were three decent squares a day on the inmates
plates. They had agreed to make this first dinner special, and he had made sure it was. He had also made sure they were setting up the livestock and agriculture in a way that they could build the reserves they needed.

His conversation had been yesterday, when all he asked for was a job. Today, he needed to ask for more. Two hours before dinner he had gotten a call from his kid niece, Jessica. Jessica was his deceased sister's daughter. it was ironic, both Steven and his sister had the "gene", as did Jessica, they were one of the lucky 5%. Sady, his sister would never know that as she had died of pancreatic cancer when Jess was only 10. The last time Steven had seen Jessica was two years before his torture. She had been a skinny and gawky 12 year old, whose father, his sister's husband and perhaps Steven's best friend in the world, had asked him to teach his daughter to sky dive.

Strapped to his back they had jumped over and over during one of his leaves, he had grown instantly to love the girl, she was fearless and funny. However, as the Red Flu spread, any sort of visits had come to a stop. Six months earlier, Jess' father had called Steven, he wanted to find someplace safe. Steven gave them his cabin, and then this morning Jess had called to tell him her father had succumbed to the merciless disease. Steven had known instantly what he wanted to do. Jessica was smart and tough, she had the gene she could be of real help here, and he needed to make sure she was taken care of. What Steven didn't know was over the last 6 years, Jessica had gone from a 12 year old, ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. The near spitting image of her dancer mother. The same long, toned legs, the same dazzling eyes, the same killer smile, the same athleticism and flexibility. Jess had the kind of looks that made men stupid and crazed! She didn't know it herself, for her last several years had been alone with only her father

As Steven approached Charlie's office he needed to ask a huge favor, he had an old Harley Davidson bike parked out in the back barn, and in the morning he needed to go get his niece and bring her back here to live. That was, if Charlie agreed? If not, he would take his two bags and head out on their own, he wouldn't let Jess die alone! He nodded at Betty as she walked past him and knocked on the door. "Boss, this is Steven, if you got a minute can I come in, this is important?"

 

[CutiePie1997]

Charlotte Higgins: Image and profile

As Nurse Betty, the Black Book Madam, and Corrections Officer Hairy Harvey left her office, Charlie looked up to see yet another visitor, Steven Douglas, a civilian who had remained behind for no other reason than he had no where else to go. Of course, that was a decision he'd made before his last surviving relative -- his niece, Jessica -- had called to tell him her father had died from the Red Flu, leaving her all alone in Steven's nearby woodland's cabin.

Charlie knew none of this, of course, but she was about to find out.

As she had when they'd first talked following her takeover yesterday of Clark County Correctional, Charlie let her hand casually lower to her hip and the butt of the Beretta 9mm. She had reason to prepare herself for an up close and personal with The Chef: even though she would never say this to his face, former Navy SEAL Steven Douglas was probably the only man in this place -- civilian or inmate -- who truly scared the bejeebies out of Charlie.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: This interaction continues in a separate thread titled "Steven and Charlie". When we are done writing in the separate thread, you will be brought right back here.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Profiles


After she'd given her threat over the intercom about sending Hairy Harvey Lewis out into the blocks to kill anyone who hadn't returned to their cells as ordered, Charlie took a walk out into the again secured prison all by her lonesome. She had some inmates she wished to talk to on a 1x1 basis.

Her first stop was outside the cell of Powell Mackenzie. His nickname was “Mack”, but Harvey had expanded on the name: Mack the Mouth, not that Charlie herself would repeat that to the man out of a wish to show respect to one and all, whether they deserved it or not.

Of course, for all she knew, Mack was already well aware of the longer nickname. Charlie couldn't know, because although she'd heard about him from Maria during her years of incarceration at Clark County, she'd never met the man. Still, she had a reason for stopping outside his A-Wing, maximum security cell this night.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: This interaction continues in a separate thread titled "Mack and Charlie". When we are done writing in the separate thread, you will be brought right back here.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Profiles

(OOC: WARNING: Includes NSFW image below.)

After her very satisfying talk with Mack in the Maximum Security A-Wing, Charlie next headed for the Medium Security B-Wing. She repeated the door unlocking procedure, and when the inmate inside met her eyes, Charlie smiled with delight.

"Lou Edwards, the man who can get anything anytime for anyone, if the price is right," she said. "Nice to finally meet you."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: This interaction continues in a separate thread titled "Lou and Charlie". When we are done writing in the separate thread, you will be brought right back here.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Profiles

Yet another stop on her late night stroll through the prison brought Charlie to the cell door of Jules Barker. After reading his personnel file and asking for opinions on him from Harvey and Betty, Charlie found herself seemingly less knowledgeable about Jules than when she'd started looking into him. He was a mystery.

There was only one thing about him that wasn't a mystery: his illicit drug business within the walls of Clark County Correctional.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: This interaction continues in a separate thread titled "Jules and Charlie". When we are done writing in the separate thread, you will be brought right back here.

 

[hzilfiger]

"Fuck," said Michael MacFarlane. "Fuck."

It was the most appropriate word he could think of. Not that he was thinking of much beyond making sure he didn't get blood on his shoes.

Kong Simmonds, his cell-mate, six foot four and two hundred and twenty pounds of serial raping psychopath, was gasping on the floor, that sound a kind of bubbling. It wasn't that surprising, MacFarlane thought, considering most of the man's lower jaw now consisted of a single shard of fragmented mandible in which were embedded just three remnant teeth. The bubbling was Kong's breath gurgling through the pool of blood in what remained of Kong's mouth.

MacFarlane ignored the rush around him. He felt more than saw the sudden surge of inmates leaping away even before the sound of the single shot had stopped echoing around the room. His focus was entirely on the man dying on the floor at his feet.

Hollowpoint, he thought. She used a hollowpoint. The woman means business.

MacFarlane had been at the very back of the Dining Hall, his back to the brickwork. He'd learnt it paid to keep his back to the wall and his eyes on Kong. Kong had been standing in the middle of a gaggle of other inmates, his usual crew, lifers all, dangerous, violent men that had changed not one iota in all their time here. They'd been trading the usual macho bullshit talk yet MacFarlane could detect uncertainty in their too-loud laughs, in the way they kept glancing over their shoulders to the main passageway. Something was up. They could all feel it.

MacFarlane, though, only had eyes for Kong.

Maybe Kong had felt his gaze. Kong had glanced over at him from a few feet away. Kong grinned at MacFarlane and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear "Tonight, baby. King Kong's gonna take that fine ass of yours." He grinned again. "I've missed you, baby. Have you missed me?"

Roars of laughter erupted from Kong's followers, along with cries of "Oh yeah!" and "She's missed you alright!"

MacFarlane had just grinned back at Kong. And blown him a kiss.

That had stopped them dead. Kong's face had turned from pride to a scowl. The bitch wasn't meant to smile. She wasn't meant to do anything except submit. Especially in public. Especially among Kong's crew.

MacFarlane, the bitch, had broken that rule.

Kong took a step towards him. Then Charlie arrived.

"My cock in your mouth, bitch," was all Kong said, nodding. "And you'll choke on it." Kong turned away as Charlie climbed onto a dining table.

MacFarlane fingered the item he'd stashed in his trousers, just to make sure it was still there. Because if it wasn't, tonight he would be a dead man. Or wishing very badly that he was dead.

Then Charlie had started talking. MacFarlane had listened, never taking his eyes off Kong. He could see the rage take hold of the man before Kong shouted those fateful words.

"With you in charge?"

Kong glanced around just once at his followers before they rushed her. They'd barely taken three steps when she shot him.

In a fraction of a second, MacFarlane's world had turned upside down. He wasn't sure if he felt regret or joy. There'd be time for that later. Now, he needed to deal with this mess.

He squatted down by Kong and examined the man.

Kong had turned away as Charlie fired. The bullet had entered the lower left corner of his mouth, destroyed his jaw then exited through the right maxillary antrum into the cranial cavity, pulverised most of Kong's right parietal lobe and removed most of the right half of his skull. It was amazing the man still lived but the blood pulsing onto the floor was arterial. He would be dead soon.

A pair of sneakers appeared in his peripheral vision. A familiar pair. MacFarlane looked up. Juan Diego's wide brown eyes looked down at him.

"La camilla?" Diego said, his face expressionless. Diego was a veteran of two tours in Helmand Province. He'd seen far worse.

MacFarlane shook his head. "No time for stretchers, Juan. Get a few blankets. We'll roll him up and drag him out. He won't last long."

Kong was still alive by the time Charlie had finished her speech. He was still alive when Diego returned. Kong did not move as they rolled him into a cocoon of blankets. He was paralyzed from the loss of so much brain tissue, the left half of his body limp and useless. There was no way they could lift him so they dragged him out of the Dining Room and around the corner into the corridor that lead to the kitchen.

"Stop," MacFarlane had said when they were out of sight. "I need to say goodbye."

Diego stepped back as Michael MacFarlane placed his feet on either side of what remained of Kong's head. MacFarlane had stopped caring about getting blood on his shoes. He could feel his soles dampen.

The dying man's eyes were widening but Kong's gaze stopped flitting around, fixing on MacFarlane's face high above.

Kong moaned for the first time, a word but one so garbled neither could make anything of it.

"Yup," MacFarlane said, speaking softly. "It's that time, Kong." His hands worked at his zipper. "It's time to say goodbye. I hear the Devil's got a barbed cock. It'll be a good fit for your ass. Here's a goodbye present from me."

Whether Kong died from blood loss or the indignity of his former bitch pissing into his ruined mouth, MacFarlane was never sure but in that final moment, just before the gurgling stopped and the pupils widened, MacFarlane thought he saw something like rage pass behind Kong's eyes.

It would have to do.

As he zipped himself up, he called out to Diego.

"Juan, get a couple of mops. And a bucket. We'd better clean up first."

They'd stowed the body and cleaned up as best they could. They'd been in time to hear Charlie set out her proposition. Diego and Doc MacFarlane sat side by side at a table otherwise unoccupied. No one sat anywhere near them. It was as if, by their association with Kong's death, they were Angels of Death themselves. Having trousercuffs studded with clots of Kong's blood probably helped.

Good, MacFarlane thought. That's very good. Be fucking fearful.

His mind was ticking over at Charlie's proposition. He could still leave, he thought, but what did he have to leave for? It had been over a year since he'd heard from Ashley. Maybe the Red Flu had taken her. In which case, there was nothing left on the outside except a different kind of incarceration - incarceration of circumstance, of anarchy, of survival, no different from the last four years. Here, on the inside, now, there appeared to be the promise of some kind of life, maybe a degree of control.

"What'cha going to do, Doc?" Juan had asked from the side of his mouth. "You gonna go?"

"Don't know," MacFarlane said. "Need to think about it. You?"

Diego shrugged. His eyes were on his plate, his concentration on chewing. "Don't know. When you decide, you tell me? Then I decide. If you go, we go together. Deal?"

"Deal." MacFarlane said.

MacFarlane had wanted to speak to Charlie but today was not the day. Already he could sense others jostling for position. MacFarlane didn't do jostling. He'd pick his time. Or maybe she would pick it for him. He'd only known her by reputation but the short time he'd seen her speak had demonstrated that this was a woman who knew her mind. And was going places. Much like his wife, Mindy. Except that had been a fucking disaster. He hoped this would be different.

They headed back to their cells, parting in the corridor to go their separate ways. MacFarlane stashed what he had intended for Kong and had barely settled into his bunk when Diego knocked at the bars.

"Doc," Diego said. "Nurse Betty. She says to come. There's been trouble. Some work for you and me in the Infirmary. A stabbing. And a beating. Let's go."

Sighing, MacFarlane sat up. So much for Charlie's New World Order. It was like being in the fucking Congo all over again. Except there at least the natives had enough manners to do their killing by daylight.

He got to his feet. "OK, Diego. Vamonos."

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

Mack’s eyes narrowed at Charlie’s announcement and not just because it interrupted his meditation. He’d taken it on faith that the cells would remain open for the night—it was after-all what Big Red was selling to them. Freedom to come and go, all that. It didn’t take long for her to decide that a lights-out lockdown was in order. As the cell door started rolling, Mack considered making a break for it, but then again, he didn’t exactly want to try her bluff if she was actually rearming the guards.

Besides, he couldn’t leave his crew behind.

There came a faint metallic tapping sound, filtering through the antiquated pipes, coming out through the drain in his stainless steel sink that did not live up to its name.

S-O-S came the Morse Coded message through the pipes. Mack pressed himself against the far wall of the cell, tucked into the corner of his bunk where he hid a thimble in the stuffing of his mattress. He tapped out a reply.

C-H-I-L-L

Mack wasn’t the leader of anything, he liked it that way. His set was small, roughly four square blocks of territory—a distant offshoot of the much larger Crips outfit. Inside, though, his set mattered less and being blue was everything. The inmate Mack was communicating with was known as Rico Suave and was actually head of a rival set of Crips on the outside. On the inside, they were allies. Rico was useful to Mack because he outranked him and spared him the burden of being the head of the Crips on the inside. Mack was useful to Rico because of his intellect. Behind the scenes, Rico was more of a figurehead than actual leader, but that was hardly common knowledge.

B-I-T-C-H-C-R-A-Z-Y

E-A-R-L-Y

T-O-O-L-A-T-E

Rico had a point. There was no guarantee any of these cells would ever open again. Charlie could choke on her own tongue and die in her sleep and every single one of them would die slow and painfully.

T-R-U-S-T-M-E Mack answered back. Why was he backing her? He couldn’t trust her, she pretty much said so herself. Why was he sticking his neck out? Risking his own, hard won rep, for her…

Was he being a trick?

U-I-T-R-U-S-T Rico relented, not having much choice at this point. B-C-A-R-E-F-U-L

It was then that Mack heard a door open at the far end of the wing through the open feeding slot. He gave the signal to cut off all tapping and picked his book back up. He pretended not to notice as she appeared through the plexiglass window, though his heart was pounding.

It was her, the new “Warden” and she wanted to talk to him…

((To Be Continued))

 

[LP1957]

Early the next morning, before anyone had risen for the day:


Lou was strutting about the prison grounds like a man with a new lease on life. Charlie had granted him access to almost every public nook and cranny to do his assesments and inventories. That and he had a new “girlfriend”, although appointed to him and not found on his own.

Granted he was not allowed into the armory, she had assured him it was well stocked and there was no need of a count. The control room was also off limits to him as there was no reason for him to venture there.

He met and talked with Doc MacFarlane, who was seeing to his three patients, on what might be needed moving forward in the medical field. He jotted down notes on the location of the nearby towns hospitals, clinics and pharmacies.

He next spoke with Steven Douglas, the appointed head chef of the facility, who was up early to prepare the days breakfast. They talked in length of his required and wanted needs. Making a list in his head that would later be transposed to whatever crew was designated to search for the items.

He talked with the famers on what seeds would grow in their soil and what suppliments would be needed to help them to maturation.

He checked out the electrical network. The prison was almost self supporting with it’s state of the art solar power grid. Although Lou knew little of the operation of this facility he would relay to Charlie the need to have it maintained and kept up to date.

Next he checked out the two massive generators. They served mainly as a backup system for when the solor panels were down or off. He would tell Charlie that they needed to be guarded and secured as they were a possible threat to her if someone decided to minpulate the electrical structure of the prison.

He also noted they had a gas tanker that was ¾ full. He estimated this would last them 4-5 months what with their vehicles and the need to run the generators periodically. They would need more fuel, and there would eventually be a need to find an alternate propellant as gasoline has a definable shelf life and it’s replacemet would soon run into short supply.

He noted that they would need to aquire as much propane as possible. There was a 1000 gallon tank, but it was only a little less than half full. How they would find and transfer more would be someone else’s nightmare. He would provide the knowledge on where to find it.

He also would recommend to aquire as many electrical vehicles and the batteries to run them as they could get their hands on. They had the abilty to create electricity and to recharge batteries. Again, he wasn’t in place to make those changes, just to suggest that they be put on her priority list.

Unsure of what and how much they would find in the neighboring cities, Lou made an exhaustive list of what and where they should look for over 1000 different items. Charlie may have regretted giving him this job as he handed over his bookfull of recommendations and needs.

He also let her know that the more they could aquire and store, the less the random groups of survivors and marauders would be able to use against them.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Nearing the end of the night:

Charlie had made her rounds through the prison's three wings, talking for a moment or for a few minutes to more than a third of the inmates. She next headed for the infirmary, where she had a conversation with one of the only 3 remaining staff members, Nurse Practitioner Beatrice "Betty" Evans -- Nurse Betty, they called her -- and with former medical doctor Michael "Doc" MacFarlane who, until just this morning, had been an inmate of the prison but was now ... well ... honestly, Charlie wasn't sure.

Clark County Correctional hadn't had a Trustee's Program as it was a Medium/Maximum Security prison. Despite that, Doc MacFarlane had become as close to a Trustee as the prison had ever had. His medical experience on the outside and good behavior on the inside had resulted in him assisting the facility's actual doctor with procedures in the Infirmary when necessary.

Charlie had heard a great deal about the Doc through her C-Wing neighbor Maria, but she'd only met him one time when she'd gone to the Infirmary with lady problems and watched him dealing with an inmate who'd been shivved in, of all places, the ass.

Charlie had been very impressed with Doc, and after hearing -- on her first day as Warden and after declaring that violence was not to be had -- that one man had been beaten to a pulp, another had been stabbed, and a female was emotionally distraught after nearly being raped, she hadn't hesitated to call on Doc for his help.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: This interaction continues in a separate thread titled "Doc MacFarland, Nurse Betty, and Warden Charlie". When we are done writing in the separate thread, you will be brought right back here.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Profiles

Day Two, 0614 hours:

Charlie awoke to a feeling she hadn't enjoyed in over 8 years, waking up in the arms of a lover after a night of incredible sex. Her reflection on what the two of them had experienced the previous night was short lived, though, as Charlie remembered that -- with the exception of a handful of them -- the prison cells were still locked tight after her hissy fit the night before.

She slipped out of Steven's grasp, found her clothes, and began dressing. Her new lover awoke during this time, and after giving him a smile of delight, told him, "I have to get to work, and you have to get to your niece."

There was more than should have been said, but Charlie told Steven it could wait. "Just ... come back."

She headed across the north paddock back to the prison proper, where she first checked on the patients in the Infirmary, then released half a dozen inmates to begin preparing a quick but balanced breakfast. In the Security Office, Charlie tapped at a keyboard for a bit, manually deleting some of the cell doors from the grouping that would be opened when she operated the remote. The men who'd participated in the three acts of violence the night before would find that their doors remained shut.

"Good morning, Clark County Correctional," she said into the intercom as the appropriate doors and gates were opening. "Breakfast will be served in 30 minutes. Feel free to shave, shower, and shine if you wish before heading for the Dining Hall. Anyone who has changed their minds about remaining as a member of my New World Order--"

Charlie couldn't help but chuckle before continuing, "--can feel free to grab up a couple of bags of goodies in the Dining Hall and get the fuck out. The gates are open, so all you have to do is hoof it out of here."

She hesitated a moment, remembering her conversation with Mack about her form of leadership. After selecting the words she thought would work, Charlie said, "Before any of you choose to leave, citing my double talk about freedom behind locked doors ... I want to tell you that beginning tonight, I will no longer be locking cell doors, at night or any other time. That was an error on my part, and I apologize.

"However, I do understand the need for personal safety and security, so I had a talk with Pinky this morning..."

Pinky -- aka Robert Houser -- had gotten his nickname in a roundabout way from the animated series, Pinky and the Brain. Robert was an uber-hacker who had been convicted of and sentenced to 22 years for more than a thousand counts of computer crimes, some of them related to the largest domestic hack of government and financial institutions in US history.

"Pinky thinks he can bypass the door security software and make it possible for individual inmates--" She stopped short, correcting, "Residents! For individual residents to lock and unlock their cell doors at will."

Again, Charlie paused, then continued, "I spoke with you all yesterday about a need for an end to violence within the walls of our home, and some of you -- those of you whose doors haven't opened this fine morning -- chose to ignore my demands. Therefore, after breakfast this morning, those of us who played nice yesterday will be deciding the fate of those who did not."

Charlie could have said more, but after a short moment of silence, she simply ended, "That is all. See you at breakfast.

 

[CutiePie1997]

(OOC: LP1957's post above was meant for this, the 2nd day of the role play, fyi. The following was inspired by that post, although I have expanded and formatted it to look all official and such. I also added some potential "dangers" through which I want our characters to suffer, for drama's sake.)

(Warning: you should NEVER open one of my pic links in public. Consider them all NSFW.)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

After his night with Chloe, Lou Edwards -- Charlie's new Numbers Cruncher -- seemed to be on top of not just a hill but Mount Everest itself. The new warden had given him virtually free reign of the prison -- short of the security related area -- and set him off to make an assessment of the new community's situation.

At the end of the day, he would come back with his report, all neatly typed up and bullet pointed and everything, like the very professional professional he'd been before killing his wife with a bat and being sent to prison for 20 years.

Charlie laid it out on her desk before her and reviewed it:

Infrastructure
and
Inventory:
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly​

Electrical Power:

• Public Power Grid: functional; providing 50%.
• Prison Solar Panels: functional; providing 50%.
• Emergency Generators: functional
  • 1 diesel, 1 gasoline.
  • Either is capable of providing more than enough power on its own.
  • Fuel is limited:
    • Diesel (from a buried tank): 100 hours at full load.
    • Gasoline (from a buried tank, 80%; and a parked trailer, 20%): 480 hours.
    • Note: diesel and gasoline must be shared with vehicles; and both fuels degrade over time (diesel 6-12 months; gasoline 3-6 months).

Propane:

• Kitchen appliances: stove tops, ovens, fridge, freezers, etc..
• Block and outbuilding heat
• 1000 gallon tank: contains 500 gallons.
• Note -- Propane can be stored forever.

Water:

• Public System: functional/pressurized; providing 100%
• Prison wells (backup): functional:
  • The wells are not filtered or chlorinated, and have only ever been used for farm irrigation.
  • They are capable of providing 100% of the human need (with a slight chance of biological hazard without chlorination).
  • They are capable of providing 60% of the farm's need, with 40% from the public source or trucks.

Sewer Systems:

• These are, of course, reliant upon water pressure.
• See "Water" above.

Charlie knew from her review of the personnel records prior to and since her takeover of the prison that there were maybe one or two guys left behind with the mechanical experience to keep the electrical grid -- particularly the generators and solar array panels -- up and running should there be an accident.

Clark County -- the county, not the prison -- was subject to tornados during the summer months and fierce storms during the winter months. In her 8 years on death row, Charlie would need all her fingers and some of her toes to count the stories about electrical failures, flash floods, equipment destroying hail storms, and other acts of Mother Nature that had cost money, infrastructure, and even lives.

What really concerned her were Lou's notes about how diesel and gasoline had a shelf life. She could still remember her father pitching a fit because one of her brothers had used bad gas in the lawn mower that first cutting in spring. What she couldn't remember was her father patting the particular boy on the back for having the initiative to get out there and mow the lawn in the first place.

Regarding the propane and the equipment that ran off it, Charlie wondered whether or not many of other prison systems, particularly the generators, would be converted to propane. She knew nothing about this kind of stuff, and honestly she didn't even know which questions to ask of her fellow inmates if she knew which one or ones to approach.

Another thing that worried her was water. She knew that eventually, they would lose electrical power, but they had options for dealing with that. But once they lost water pressure from the County Main, how were they going to irrigate the farm and water the livestock, particularly after they had expanded acreage and herd numbers?

And taking a shit? Or a bath? Fuck, when they lost the water, the hygiene in this place was gonna get downright nasty.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Breakfast was served, and when it seemed that most of the Residents -- not inmates -- of Clark County Correctional had finished eating and were awaiting whatever happened next, Charlie stood at the end of the table and looked down it at the others.

The current population of Clark County Correctional was 24 former inmates and 3 former staff. (OOC: Yes, this is different from previously stated.) With 3 in the Infirmary, being watched by Nurse Betty and Maria, and 5 locked in their cells for the violence they'd committed, there were only 6 women and 8 males sitting before her.

Harvey, who Charlie had left unarmed for now, was still feeling a bit vulnerable surrounded by convicts he didn't like and who didn't like him. He was sitting at a Guard's Table near one of the open gates, knowing he could make a quick exit if necessary by slipping through and slamming behind him the gate.

"As I said on the intercom this morning," she began with a sincere tone, "I made a mistake last night in locking the place down after I'd told you that you were no longer inmates and had your freedom. I think you all know why I did it: we have three people in the infirmary, victims of violent attacks after I'd stressed that violence was no longer going to be tolerated in Three-C."

She stepped down off the table and began a slow walk down one side, then the other of the one long grouping of tables she'd left running down more than half the length of the dining hall. "So, we have a choice to make regarding violence in our community. Many of us -- not all of us -- are here because we committed violence against other out in the world. It may have been justified, it may not have been. It may have been justified only in your mind. We're all innocent, right?"

There was laughter and more than one claim of innocence from the group. Charlie only smiled at the responses and continued, "We will not survive as a community if violence is allowed to go unanswered. Right now, we have 5 ... Residents locked in their cells for what they did last night: an unfair beat down, three on one; a cowardly stabbing; and a rape."

"Attempt!" one of the guys familiar with the crime called out, adding, "He didn't even get his dick wet."

He got a bit of laughter but -- by the expression on his face -- not as much as he'd been expecting. Charlie rested her hand on the butt of the Beretta, as if considering whether or not to shoot him in the face as she had a man the day before. But she didn't pull the 9mm, nor was she planning on it. She only wanted the man to think twice before he spoke such things again in the future.

"Successful or not, rape won't be tolerated in Three-C anymore," Charlie continued. "The only question is this: what is this man's punishment going to be? I've looked at his record: he was convicted of three rapes and suspected of 13 more. Does anyone think he's going to stop raping women -- men maybe? -- if he isn't adequately punished now?"

There was a flurry of comments from men and women, some of them making fun at the situation and others taking it seriously. Charlie waved the voices silent, then looked to the women, nearly all of whom were sitting -- for their own protection and comfort -- at one end of the table.

"Girls?" Charlie asked with an expectant tone. "Who say you?"

She got exactly what she expected from the females. They'd been protected from sexual assault by male inmates up until now simply by the separation of the genders in different wings. Now, suddenly, they were vulnerable again.

Suggestions called out varied from closing off C-Wing again -- isolating the women from the men -- to cutting the man's cock off and feeding it to him. Charlie asked for a consensus. "One sentence, decided upon by the whole of you."

This time, the 6 women leaned in closer to one another and debated more quietly. Finally, one of the women who'd already insinuated herself as somewhat of a leader said, "We can't agree on whether physically harming him would make him respect women more or just hate them more. So ... we vote for banishment."

The other women nodded and supported the declaration, some of them high fiving or chanting, "Throw him out, throw him out."

Charlie was still circling the long tables slowly and now looked to the men, who filled up most of the seats of the remaining length of the table. She only asked, "Men?"

(OOC: This is an invitation for all 5 of your characters to put in their two cents IF they want to about the punishment for this rape. This shouldn't be a reflection of your personal view: this is your character's view. I will post for the other 3 men after, then have Charlie make a decision. And remember, we have two other crimes which need adjudication. If you want your characters to sound off on those, Charlie won't interrupt.)

 

[LP1957]

Lou, while sitting in his normal, secluded place in the back corner of the room sat and listened as the women unanimously asked for the rapist to be banished to the unknown outer world. When Charlie asked for the men's opinion on the matter there came a banter of loud yells and mumbling as they formed their opinions on the matter.

Feeling somewhat emboldened by his promotion and his sexual encounter from last night, (as unimpressive as it was he did get his rocks off with an actual female) Never one known to take the forefront Lou raised his hand like a school kid and got Charlie's attention, giving him the floor. It was not like him to step up first in any matter but he felt strongly about this.

"I think too that he should be banished as well, or SHOT!" It was known by some but not all that this same man had twice attempted to rape Lou himself. Once before he had Carlos' protection, which he only nearly escaped as he had the chance to run down the hallway with his pants half down when a guard unexpectedly showed up in the confined laundry room where Lou was working alone and about to loose his anal virginity.

It was shortly after that when Lou made himself available to Carlos to get him whatever he wanted at Lou's own expense. The second time the rapist had confronted Lou he took a massive beat down as a warning to all that Lou Edwards was indeed off the menu.

With a look of surprise Charlie acknowledged his recommendation and asked simply "And the others?"
Lou thought that should the other violent offenders be allowed to stay that he would not want to be on their bad side and he reverted to his normal demeanor of keep quiet and cause no problems for himself.

"For them, I think I will vote along with the majority of the room." Thence allowing the others to decide on their fate.

 

[CutiePie1997]

"I think, too, that he should be banished as well, or SHOT!" Charlie's new Numbers Cruncher said after the women had expressed their views.

The Warden was actually a bit surprised that Lou spoke his mind. Her understanding of the man was that he was mild mannered and practically invisible to the others at time. She thought to herself, It's amazing what a good blow job will do to lift a man from the shadows.

"And the others?" she asked when the remaining men were only murmuring between themselves.

"Banishment," one man finally said, with another one coming in behind him saying, "Yeah, banishment. Let him go out there and do his raping somewhere else. Lower the male to female ratio in this place."

There was another round of discussion, argument, graphic barbs, and laughter. Charlie politely waved for everyone to settle down, asking, "Anyone vote for something different ... or something more severe?"

It didn't really matter what the others thought, really: unless all of the remaining men voted for the same punishment, there was already a consensus for banishment of the man. But Charlie gave the others a chance to speak up and only then did she say, "The people have spoken. Banishment is the punishment."

She listened to and watched the other for reactions, then said, "Next case, a 3 on 1 beat down over -- I've been told -- a past beef between gangs that hadn't been settled. First, before we go on, I need to say that ... fuck, people, if you don't think you can live side by side with people for whom you have a grudge, get the fuck out of my prison."

Charlie was very conscious of the fact that she'd called Clark County Correctional her prison, and in a handful of faces, she saw expressions reacting to her words as well. But she didn't care: for now, she was the dictator of this place.

"We're starting new, fresh, without a past," she said, almost pleading. She looked directly at two of the men who she knew had been members of competing gangs that had essentially died off with the Red Flu as she said, "Gang beefs are done and gone. Forget'em. Let'em go. If you can't..."

Without taking her eyes off the men, Charlie pointed to the table that still held some of the bags of food, water, and other needs. She continued, "Violence must be punished, and this beat down -- in my opinion -- ranks right up there with murder and rape as punishment goes. So, what do we do with these men?"

Lou spoke up again, saying, "For them, I think I will vote along with the majority of the room."

"Okay, majority," Charlie said. "What do you say?"

Again, some of the women called for banishment. Charlie might have supported them, but she had a personal and logistical problem with losing these three men: one of them was very skilled with heavy equipment, something she might need when they began losing infrastructure; and another had actually been a solar systems technician before he got drunk one night and ran his car through a crowd of young people partying at an outdoor lounge.

Thankfully for Charlie, a couple of the guys called out that the men needed to be punished and retained. She asked, "Are we talking about solitary? Bread and water for weeks, months? How about a chastity belt and zero access to the Cute and Cuddly Cunts of Clark County Correctional?"

There was both laughter and sharp barbs for that, but Charlie only laughed. She looked to the men to her left and right, asking, "Well?"

 

[hzilfiger]

Doc MacFarlane waited for Lou to sit back down before he raised his hand. When it was his turn, he got to his feet and scanned the room.

"You know who I am. You also know that, for some months now, I've been the unwilling fucking post for that motherfucker whose brains I had the pleasure of cleaning off my shirt yesterday. I didn't ask for the first but I really enjoyed the second."

He paused. The room was silent. All eyes on him.

"What you don't know is that I was going to kill Kong last night. I'm not going to say how, just that it's something I've planned for months, from that first day he raped me. I should be furious with Charlie for depriving me of my revenge. But let's just say I got my own back before Kong fucked right out to Hell. That's my secret, between me and Kong. We'll settle up in Hell. "

"I've got a third option for you to consider. And here's my reasoning. It's based on years spent in Africa and other warzones dealing with people who've been the victims of people like Kong. Rapists and murderers, people who feel the need to exert their power over others through violence. Violence is their language and it's the only language they understand. Let's speak to them in their language."

"Those of you who bothered to listen in school may have heard of the Code of Hammurabi. I'll spare you the details but it was law, written thousands of years ago. It's most important bit says 'if one man shall blind the eye of another, they shall blind his eye'. That's where eye for an eye comes from."

He looked around at them.

"You understand that, right? It's how it works in the CCC. It's how it's always worked."

He took a breath.

"I propose a third way." He paused. "Castration. Cut the balls off rapists. And I'll be more than happy to do it."

A murmur spread across the room. Doc raised his arms.

"What? You think I don't know how? I'm an MD. I've done battlefield surgery. I've chopped off legs, feet, hands. That's way more complicated than a pair of testicles. We can do it without anaesthesia or with. It doesn't take long. Shit, they were creating eunuchs out of prisoners hundreds of years ago with a pair of hot tongs. After one public castration, rapists are going to think again."

He let his arms drop.

"You know what happens when a man loses his balls? He loses his drive. He becomes soft and flabby. He grows boobs. Once a week, we take the eunuch and strap it (because that's what he is know) to the bars. Strapped down and spread apart. What better deterrent for rapists than to be raped? Hammurabi had it right."

"That's punishment. That's eye for an eye. And I'm ready to do the gouging."

He sat back down to silence.

 

[CutiePie1997]

When Doc MacFarlane raised his hand, Charlie laughed. "We're not in grade school. I appreciate the courtesy you are all showing one another, but really, you don't need to raise your hand. Doc, go ahead."

Michael talked about himself, his issue with the Kong, and the events of the day before that brought that issue to an end. Charlie's reaction to him telling the others that he'd planned on killing his rapist left her conflicted: she was preaching law and order, but if anyone in this place deserved to be killed, it was the man waiting to be slid into the crematorium later today.

"I've got a third option for you to consider," Doc continued, speaking about his experiences in war zones before saying, "Castration."

There was indeed a reaction to that, from both the males, most of whom were cringing at the thought, and the females, most of whom were laughing or cheering on the idea.

After Doc had sat down, Charlie studied the group a moment, contemplating her reaction before speaking her mind. "I have an opinion on this subject ... on this crime and the punishment for it. However ... as I have been accused -- publicly and behind my back, thank you very much -- for being a dictator, I'm going to leave this to all of you to decide. We all lost our right to vote when they put us in here: for President, for our Representatives, even for Ballot Measures for those of you in States that have the petition process.

"But here, for this crime, and maybe for other crimes in the future ... you have the vote back. Democracy. This is your community, even more so than it is mine."

There was some discussion and debate for a moment, most of it seeming to indicate that the group was leaning toward castration. Charlie interrupted them, though, telling them, "The Doc made a comment about things you all should have learned in school if you had been paying attention--"

"I paid attention," one of the women interrupted with humor, adding, "To the hot looking guys with fast cars and coke."

There was laughter, and as it faded Charlie continued, "There is a quote that has long been attributed to Winston Churchill but which was actually something someone had said before him and he was simply repeating it--"

"Plagerism!" someone cried out.

There was a laugh, then, "I learned that in school, too."

"Many forms of Government have been tried," Charlie began after she regained their attention, "and will be tried in this world of sin and woe..."

"Yep, that's Three-C, alright, sin and woe."

More laughter, then the self appointed Warden continued, "No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government ... except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time."

The reaction from the others was a mix of awe for Charlie's word-for-word recitation of Churchill's 1947 speech to the House of Commons and apathy for whatever her reason for reciting it was. She explained, "I've never liked the concept of Majority Rules. At it's core, it means that 50.1% of the people get what they want while 49.9% of them don't. That's why our government has a filibuster in Senate."

"Is there going to be a test later?" someone asked, leading to more laughter. "Or are we just gonna cut this guy's balls off?"

More laughter and graphic comments, then Charlie explained herself, "There are 14 of you here at this table right now. 3 other inmates -- I'm sorry, residents -- aren't here, but as 1 of them is the rape victim and the other 2 are relatively innocent victims of violence, I'm going to vote for them ... for castration. Nurse Betty and Maria, I don't know how they would vote, but I will ask them after I leave here. The 5 in confinement ... fuck'em, they're back in their cells for breaking the rules. No vote for them.

"So, 3 votes for castration, leaving the 14 of you to vote--"

There was a sudden rush of votes and debate, but Charlie waved it all down, just in time for someone to ask, "What was with the fucking Winston Churchill thing?"

"Majority rules is not going to work for me," Charlie said. "Clark County Correctional ... our New World Order ... is gong to require a 2/3 vote on issues I bring before you."

Again, there was flurry of reactions, some for, some against, but Charlie only waved them down and asked, "If you committed a crime in here, and you thought that it wasn't that big of a deal, not worthy of severe punishment ... but you weren't a very popular person and the others were more than happy to see you banished or beaten or castrated or killed ... wouldn't you suddenly wish that the punishment given had to pass by more than just one person more than 50%?"

The answer to her question seemed to be a majority yes. She finished, "So, we have 3 votes for castration already. I'll abstain."

She looked around the room from face to face. Some couldn't wait for their turn and called out their vote, but eventually enough of them had spoken up to reach the 2/3 for the suggested punishment that Charlie had demanded.

"The sentence has been given then," she said. She picked up a coffee cup and tapped it down on the table, saying, "Court adjourned. Doc, can I speak with you please?"

One of the women hopped up suddenly, saying, "Charlie, Maria has asked to see all of the girls after we finished with breakfast. Is that alright?"

Charlie knew what that was about, though, she didn't let on or -- for Christ's sake -- let the guys know: Maria Roberts, the Black Book Madam, was organizing the sexually active women to form a brothel, wishing to ensure that if the women were putting out for the men -- or even some of the men for clients of either gender -- that they were fairly compensated for their efforts.

"Of course," Charlie said. Then to the others, she said, "We'll all meet back here at noon today to discuss the third crime committed last night, as well as job assignments. There is a lot of work to be done, and no one gets a free ride from here out."

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

((Before Breakfast))

Mack and Rico gathered together the few loyals who remained behind with them at Clark. They gathered inside Rico’s cell and spoke in hushed tones. Mack was taking the lead, as he often did at strategy meetings.

“I’ll make a big scene and you guys handle the screws—they may be armed so try and sneak up while I’ve got the attention.”

“What about Big Red?”

“One of them asked. I’ll go for her gun, my distraction ought to let me get close—when I rush her, that’s your cue to tackle the guards.”

“Man, this is risky,” Rico seemed to be having second thoughts.

“Yeah, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Are you really satisfied being some nameless cog in this hoe’s machine?”

“Yeah, not really.”

“If she starts making more sense, I’ll call it off—”

It was then that the announcement crackled through the prison speakers. She said “New World Order.” Maybe the worst choice of words he could imagine.

“You think she knows who she’s quoting?”

“I hope not…” Mack sighed, “let’s hear what she has to say.”

“Heil the Reich-head,” Rico made an imitation of a Nazi salute.

((At Breakfast))

Mack was seated on the table, Rico and the others circled around him. They ate in relative silence until the forming of Charlie’s “New World Order” commenced. There was about as much shouting and chaos as one might expect.

“We’ve only heard her side!” Mack interjected—not because he gave a shit about the asshole rapist, but it mattered how this was handled. It seemed that heresay was a valuable thing all of a sudden, “shouldn’t we hear both sides? Witnesses?”

Mack’s objections got lost in the shouting and when the hand raising began they were already on to sentencing.

“This mothafucka raised his hand,” Rico muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Lou “The Cherry” (as gangs had taken to calling him) was weighing in on the matter. It was good that he seemed in favor of banishment. Banishment seemed like a decent solution—in absence of a fair trial or anything resembling one. Pissing off to take their chances in the wild seemed like a much better plan than the next idea that followed a raised hand.

“Oh no this fuckin’ cracker did NOT just bring up Africa,” Rico hissed, “they never taught Hammer-Robbie in the schools I went to.”

“I went to public schools too, let’s chill.”

Then, when Charlie quoted Churchill and Hitler, almost in the same breath—Mack knew that something had to be done. The division that was organically forming between the genders was something that he could use to his advantage.

“And that’s it? Just like that you’re gonna cut a motherfucker’s balls off, just cause you say he attempted something. Ya’ll some sick fucks. If I were on trial, I wouldn’t want none of ya’ll deciding shit about what happened to me,” this was the signal, and Rico backed away from the table, flanking into Harvey’s blind-side. “this lil Bed, Breakfast and Kangaroo Court routine ain’t about shit. You want to offer us a democracy, do it. Let us vote for a leader!”

A masculine roar followed as men joined the cause of protecting their privates. In that instant, Mack charged at Charlie, his height alone making him a terrifying sight at full speed—but Charlie was faster, he grabbed her wrist to try and prevent her drawing the gun, but he was at a disadvantage—he had to stoop to reach for her hip and his balance was offset.

Rico and the others didn’t seem to be having much better luck with Harvey…

 

[Homerun2611]

(OOC: From Steven & Charlie )

The next morning when Steven woke up, Charlie was in his arms, but only briefly, but it was nice. Part of him wanted to keep going, but there would be other times, probably very soon. He had barely slept, and couldn't remember the last time he woke up so completely rested and satisfied and sore. His balls ached, from a time, very well spent. He made a joke in his mind, "Well boys, if we were going to wait 8 years, I guess that was worth it, but let's not wait like that again!" She had barely left when he was dressed, and heading out. He didn't shower, he liked feeling her and smelling her on him. He was only going to get his niece, who cared if he had their cum all over his junk, he was getting his niece, it shouldn't matter....he was so wrong!

He pulled the tarp off his bike, a 1993 Harley Davidson, FXR Comp-S. Steven had made many modifications, upgrades if you will, but the bike ran as good or better than it had when the original owner had wheeled it off the showroom floor. It was built for speed, handling and if necessary could climb like it was half mountain goat. He put on his leather jacket and Ray Bans, no helmet. A helmet was a good idea for most, but it obscured some hearing and vision, and Steven wanted all of his senses acutely aware.

Charley had given him a task and so, although it would take him nearly 3 hours to trek what should otherwise be little more than an hour, even including the climb, he would take back roads and learn what was happening around him.

The first observation was, nothing, a whole lot of nothing. A bit like the sky after 9/11 when your eyes and ears expected to see and hear airplanes and instead only silence. There were probably some planes that flew, but commercial travel was dead. If you really had to get somewhere, and were lucky, you might hitch a ride on a cargo plane with a pressurized hold and oxygen, otherwise it ws by auto, bike or boat, and those were almost as rare.

The world had been abandoned for the most part, replaced by small farmer's markets and a primarily barter economy. Petrol was there to be had, until it ran out, but there was no one there to pay once you were done, and each pump might see one or two vehicles a week. He kept his eyes pealed on the landscapes of the countryside, and during his entire trip he saw maybe 10 signs of mini communities. Most were very small groups, 5 or less, farming a small area. He whizzed by not considering stopping.

Twice he did stop, as there were a small set of four makeshift vehicles and an old bike. He didn't stop because he wanted to, he stopped at gunpoint. Fingering the pistol in his pocket. it was a group of 12, a small militia, they had holed up on some decent farmland and were protecting their stead. Before he could shut down his bike the man raised the shotgun but before he even got his finger on the trigger, Steven had shot him a glancing blow in the shoulder. "Mister, that was where I was aiming, I could just as easily have put it between your eyes." He looked to his left and saw a squirrel watching, and quick as a flash, did exactly that. "See?"

"I don't want any trouble, I am headed up to get my niece and going back where I came from, how are you all doing?" The man with the wound was the most grateful, they spoke for nearly 10 minutes, and Steven learned of an abandoned grain elevator and a general store they might be able to get some of the other things that Charlie still wanted. Steven did not say much, but said he would try to come back, perhaps with the leader of CCC, although he did not give specifics. Maybe they could do each other some good?"

There were a few other abandoned towns that still had not been entirely looted, and he ran into one other group, also about 20 strong, appeared like some neo Nazi get up, and Steven stayed clear. One shot rang out from their compound but it wasn't close. Either they weren't good, or were well outside range. Steven would avoid them on his way back.

It was just shy of noon when he turned off the road and headed up toward the cabin. The trip had been worthwhile, Charlie had been right and he would have plenty to share upon his return. But for now, he was hungry as hell, and dying to see his gangly, but fearless niece.

The final trail up the mountain was hard one, working his bike up the narrow path, it had been retrofitted for both speed and climbing ability, but even so, this was a test. The fact it was this hard made Steven smile, as it meant Jessie should be safe. She must have heard the sound of the engine down from where she came, for when he opened the house it was empty, and momentarily he panicked! "Jessica! JESS!!!" Suddenly he turned and heard the creek of the sliding glass door which lead to the deck, and stairs which lead to the lake!

He wasn't prepared to see what he saw next, it not only took his breath away, but it took him back almost 18 years, he remembered a moment, just like this, him standing there, and his 18 year old sister looking just like that. He almost said her name, "Lily?" like it was some cruel hallucination, but it wasn't. It was merely the near carbon copy, 18 years old, and just as stunningly beautiful, "My God, Jess, is that really you?!?!"

 

[LP1957]

Lou cringed in his corner spot, already having regreted speaking up on the matter of the rapist. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth closed as he was prone to doing in the first place.

Now the men were beginning to get rowdy and voice their opinions that didn’t agree with how he had voted. When Mack Mackenzie made a play at charging Charlie, Lou was in a panick.

Lou was enthralled with Charolette Higgens running of the community. Everything she wanted alligned with what could and would make Lou a happy citizen.

It was far too soon for a mutiny. Not only that, but Mack didn’t particulary favor him in the first place. With Carlos’ protection, Lou had chosen to deny the man some of the items he wanted to inhance his prison business.

If he were to gain the ‘TOP DOG’ spot in their new society Lou would, at best, be banished to the outer world. More likely the man who coined his nickname (the Cherry) would throw him into the prisons newly developing whorehouse for every Alpha cock to have a turn at him.

Lou flung his breakfast tray at the feet of the charging man. Although he missed by a wide margin, just the slightest pause Mack made to look at the sailing tray gave Charlie that half second she needed.