Chapter 19

Now

I spent most of my time planning. Devising multiple methods of escape. Thinking about all the ways I could get to Emmy.

I even daydreamed a bit about choosing other victims once I was free. It’s been longer than I like to wait between kills. Like an itch that springs up and nags at you until it’s so unbearable that you just have to scratch it, I need to hunt.

And I also need a drink. Well, several, actually. I long to feel the relief that only a foggy head can give me. Alcohol is the only other thing that feeds my darkness. And if drinking were equivocal to sex, then killing is my orgasm. One usually led to the other, but both brought pleasure.

When Monday finally rolled around, I was retrieved from my cell earlier than our usual 6:30am wake-up call. I’d slept like a baby the night before, knowing what was to come that day, so the early morning didn’t bother me. Instead, I was bright-eyed and chipper, a smile permanently plastered to my face. This made the guards weary from the start, because they didn’t see many smiles around here.

“You’re in fucking prison, Grafton. What do you have to smile about?” one of the guards had said as I got dressed again after the mandatory strip and cough deal. The search was to prove to them that I wasn’t hiding any contraband before we got on the bus. It wasn’t the most pleasant part of the process, but it did bring me closer to freedom.

“Just love car rides, boss,” I’d answered, as a way of explanation.

“Fucking weirdo,” the guy had muttered, not entirely under his breath.

I tried to rein it in after that, reserving my smiles for when nobody was watching me. I hadn’t wanted to give them any reason to think I was up to something.

The process of inmate transportation is a long and tedious one. There are so many steps to go through to ensure that escape isn’t possible. I’d sat inside the hot bus for thirty-five minutes while the guards checked the vehicle and paperwork dozens of times, before the engine was even turned on. I was grateful once we finally got going and settled in to enjoy the air conditioning and the trip.

I hadn’t lied about that part. I do love car rides. It’s where I do my best thinking and scheming, and that time was no exception.

We were heading to Marin County Courthouse—the same place that Pritchard had gone for his arraignment. They hadn’t had to tell me this for me to know it. It was the closest courthouse to the prison and therefore the safest place to bring someone like me, since less travel meant fewer opportunities for problems along the way.

As we’d pulled up to the structure, I’d peered at it the way a kid might driving up to Disneyland: With wonder and excitement. The building was impressive. Long and spread out, sort of in the shape of a leg from the knee down, with the entrance being at the ankle of the edifice. Double corridors extended in both directions, one section built at an angle and half as long as the other.

The design made things much easier on me, since it meant more window access.

When the bus stopped in a special loading zone for prisoners, I was directed to remain where I was until they were ready for me to disembark. I watched the guards talk amiably to the courthouse cops who’d later escort me through the building. They all wore matching frowns, but the new guys were significantly smaller than the Quentin guards, and less prepared for someone like me. They didn’t see action the way our men did on a regular basis. They weren’t as used to the ways we worked and thought. Their cushy jobs kept them inside air-conditioned courtrooms, hob-knobbing with judges and lawyers all day. They were always just steps from freedom and that made them far more fallible than San Quentin workers.

This was their first mistake. The second would prove more perilous.

One of the Quentin guards climbed the steps of the bus and signaled to me.

“Let’s go,” he’d said, and I shuffled my way down the aisle.

I took my time getting off the bus because I hadn’t wanted to trip and fall, but also because I didn’t want to seem too eager.

Once I was standing in front of all four officers, I tried my best to appear compliant. I smiled, but not too big, to show them I wouldn’t be a problem.

Apparently they didn’t get the hint.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Grafton,” one of the Quentin guards had said, his hand resting on top of his piece.

“Course not, boss,” I’d responded, looking at the new guards and nodding at them.

They’d given me looks that told me they thought they were better than me. Most cops think this. That they’re so much smarter than us criminals. But in reality, they’re just a different side of the same coin. Chasing the need to show the world they’re important. Getting off on asserting their power over others. Punishing those who “deserve” it, all under the name of the law.

The only difference between cops and criminals is that cops get paid for their crimes, while the criminals have to pay for theirs.

The Marin County guards took me in through an entrance that was separate from the general public. Judges and lawyers didn’t like to stand next to prisoners while they waited to go through the detector. It made them uncomfortable. So, we had our own little admission site, where we were wanded down before being brought to a holding room, where we were once again searched.

Finally, I was brought into a little room with no windows to the outside, and only a desk and a few chairs to decorate the place. The guards led me in, made sure my cuffs were in place and then told me to wait quietly for my lawyer to arrive.

As soon as they were posted outside of my room, I saw what I’d been hoping for. I could already hear the guards talking to each other in the hallway and waited for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to the only other door in the space.

The bathroom inside wasn’t anything to look at. A toilet, a sink, paper towels, and a trashcan. No hand sanitizer or soap, which made me cringe once I realized how unsanitary the rest of the building must’ve been. But clean or not, it would do.

I unbuttoned my pants and sat down, relieving myself for the first time in days. It was glorious having the room to myself again. You don’t realize how important toilet privacy is until it’s taken away from you. In prison, there’s no privacy. After I was done, I immediately started to pull paper towels from the bin on the wall and shoved them into the toilet, too. One after another, I clogged it up until the bowl was a soggy mess, and then when I was satisfied, I pulled the handle.

It took a few tries, but victory became mine when the whole thing started to overflow. Then I stepped outside and calmly closed the door behind me.

A few minutes later, Joffrey was escorted inside and sat down across from me at the table.

“Hey, Kyle. How you holding up, buddy? Ready for today?” he’d asked, cocking his head to the side like he was talking to a child or a really old person.

“Yep,” I’d said. “That my suit?”

He procured the plastic bag from the chair beside him and handed it over to me. 

“I was able to get it from your place after the cops processed it for evidence. You should probably change now, since things can happen pretty fast around here.”

“No problem,” I’d said.

The guards were called in to uncuff me so that I could get dressed. Before they could leave the room again, I moved to the bathroom door. By now the water had begun to trickle out from under the door, and as I opened it up, a flood of raw sewage came rushing out.

“Shit!” I’d said, jumping back dramatically, so I wouldn’t get any of it on my shoes. I thought the pun was clever, but the other men didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you kidding me?” Joffrey had said loudly, in the way that a hotel guest might complain when faced with sub-par accommodations. “These conditions are unacceptable. Is there another bathroom we can use?”

The guards sighed, annoyed that they’d have to deviate from their routine. It meant they’d have to actually do some work on the job. I could tell by the looks on their faces that if my lawyer hadn’t been there to fight on my behalf, I’d have been dressing in an inch of waste.

But complying would be easier than arguing with Joffrey, so they’d reluctantly re-cuffed me and then motioned for me to follow them down the corridor to the public restroom. Like the one in my previous room, it was also a single occupancy, which meant I’d be left inside by myself.

Once again, they removed my cuffs, and deposited me inside, suit in hand—minus the hanger.

“It might take me a minute, boss,” I’d called through the door once I was alone. “My stomach’s a bit nervous, if you know what I mean.”

“Fucking disgusting,” one of the guards had said to the other. They knew what I meant.

Of course, I’d already gone earlier, but I needed to give them an excuse as to why I might be in there a while. The thing I hadn’t expected but was elated to see was that this new bathroom had a window. It was bigger than the one in my room at San Quentin, but still too small for me to squeeze through. This didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t the way I was planning to get out anyway. I’d be caught too quickly.

I propped open the window nonetheless, letting the fresh air move through the tiny room. Then I climbed onto the sink and pushed up on one of the panels in the ceiling until it created a space big enough that I could fit through. Grabbing my suit, I tossed it into the crawlspace ahead of me, and then carefully pulled myself up. Lowering the board back into place, I began to make my way forward, sticking to the supported parts of the ceiling as I crawled away.

I knew from my walk with the guards that there was a janitor’s closet about twenty-five feet from the bathroom. Although it was almost impossible to see where I was going, I’d counted out my shuffles until I’d gone what I thought was the appropriate length to get to the closet. Then I put my ear to the panel and listened for signs of life below.

Nothing.

Bracing myself, I pulled at the board as slowly as I could. Peeking through the cracks, all I could see was darkness. Taking this as a good sign, I removed the panel completely and stuck my head through the hole. I could faintly make out shapes below me, but couldn’t be sure where I was. Still, without having any other tools at my disposal, I didn’t really have a lot of options.

I dropped my suit through the hole, listening as it made contact below. Then with a deep breath, I swung my legs over the side and lowered my body down until I had to let go completely. The ground came faster than I’d expected and my foot caught on something unstable as I landed, causing it to bend at a painful angle.

Stifling a yell, I reached for my ankle and felt around, expecting bone to be protruding from my skin. Luckily it wasn’t, and after a few seconds, the pain began to subside, so I stood up and took a few hesitant steps.

Searching through the darkness, I placed my hands in front of me to try and find a light source. I ran into metal bars and boxes and kicked something as I walked, but finally found a switch on the wall and flipped it on excitedly.

Light flooded the room, showing that I hadn’t ended up in the janitor’s closet as I’d anticipated, but was in someone’s actual office. Looking around the room quickly, I located my suit and hastily got dressed, dropping my prison garb into the trashcan under the desk. When I was finished, I finally had a chance to look around at my surroundings and saw that one wall held a set of blinds that were drawn to shut out the light.

Bingo!

I rushed over and pulled them up slowly, so as not to alert anyone outside and saw that it led to a grassy area on the other side of the main entrance. With a smile I pushed open the window.

I knew the guards would find out what had happened soon. Over five minutes had elapsed since I’d climbed into the ceiling and they wouldn’t leave me alone too much longer before they started to demand I come out. When I didn’t respond, they’d break down the door, find the room empty and shut down the building and likely the surrounding area.

I glanced outside to make sure nobody was looking and then climbed up onto the sill and jumped to the ground below.

Then I ran to the parking lot.