CharlesEBrown

  Dane Coleman slid back on the thin mattress, his back against the wall. He was a lean man in excellent physical shape, maybe thirty years of age with wavy brown hair and in need of a shave. He held his hands up against the wall, palms outward. A faint smell of sweat and mildew filled the air.

  Outside the cell, Dane’s childhood friend, Detective John Parker, nodded to the uniformed corrections officer at his side to unlock the door. Parker was a stocky man with dark blonde hair, who always looked as if he had just been awakened from a light sleep. The officer, a non-descript man with sandy brown hair, then opened the door, sliding it shut behind Parker as soon as he was inside, and then walked off down the cell block.

  “You do understand the situation, right Dane?” Parker asked as soon as the BOP officer was out of earshot

  Dane met his eyes and replied, calmly: “A group of guys raped my sister. When she reported it to the police, these dirt bags then beat her so badly that she’s on life support and, if she survives, will probably be crippled for life. So, I killed them.”

  The detective blinked at his bluntness, sighed, and then said: “Dane, one of those men was not involved with the beating and probably not part of the rape; as far as we can tell his only crime was being friends with a thug and two total dirtbags. And the one man who was clearly involved with both incidents, probably the only one who truly deserved what you did, is the son of Avery Dennings…”

  “SENATOR Avery Dennings?” Dane asked, startled by this.

  “Yes. The man who’s pulled strings to block all of your appeals and expedite your execution,” Parker replied glumly.

  Dane considered this for a moment, then asked: “So what exactly does this mean?”

  There was a moment of silence, then: “I’m here to take your order for a st meal, as you face the electric chair at midnight tomorrow,” was the blunt reply.

  There was a long silence, before Dane spoke again. “Three pizzas, one with everything, one just pepperoni, one cheese, all from different shops, medium if they have three or more sizes, rge if they only have two, do not care which shops, either, just three different ones. One burger and fries from each fast-food pce within five miles, ketchup, mustard, pickle, lettuce and tomato, nothing else. A gallon jug of drinking water and two rge milkshakes, one chocote, one strawberry.”

  Parker let out an uneasy ugh: “OK, should be able to do that. Do you want a priest or rabbi or guru or something for a confession or st rites?”

  Dane considered this for a few seconds, then said: “If the State is paying, sure, anything, even if just a dozen clowns in full makeup standing on their heads. If it’s just some volunteer trying to get brownie points on his or her soul, don’t bother.”

  “Got it. Anything else I can do for you?” Parker asked.

  “Unless you want to switch pces, nope,” Dane answered, with a bitter smile.

  “Tempting, given how my marriage has been the st few months, but no,” Parker replied with a nervous ugh. “You know, you had exactly one thing in common with Jordan Dennings - you were both discharged dishonorably from the Marines for beating the crap out of a superior officer. At least you did it because the officer was abusing a civilian; Jordan was allegedly high as a kite and did it for fun.”

  As Parker stood to leave, Dane said: “Oh, there is one thing - that fourth guy. Do a bit more digging. If he really is innocent and has a family, get my meager savings to them - I’ll sign anything needed to authorize this. But if he’s not, then I regret nothing I did and accept the consequences.”

  Parker nodded. “I’ll look into it, and I promise to be with you for the final walk, old friend.”

  Dane just nodded and slid back against the wall, his arms spread far apart.

  Dane was a rge man, but not a giant, he tended to stand out in a crowd but not to tower over it. He had eyes so dark they often seemed bck. He would never consider himself handsome but a fair number of women seemed to disagree on that count. But in his prison jumpsuit none of that really mattered - he was just another inmate on Death Row

  At promptly Seven PM the next night, Dane’s st meal was delivered, just as it began raining outside the tiny window to his cell. It took him a little over three hours to finish, but finish it he did. At eleven thirty, a Bureau of Corrections officer once more asked if he wished to speak to a priest or other spiritual advisor, and this time he ft out declined.

  Fifteen minutes ter, Detective Parker arrived. “Dane, we did some more checking on that fourth guy. Turns out he’s not a good guy but also not guilty of the sexual or physical assaults. Guy was the ‘procurer’ - for drugs and other stuff - for the Senator’s kid, and also their driver. The gun that you killed him and two of the other three with was his.”

  “So, I won’t have to leave this world feeling too guilty,” Dane said, and then added: “If that one has a family, send flowers to the funeral; if not screw him and the rest of them.”

  “Got it pal. Here comes the procession,” Parker replied sadly.

  Dane simply replied: “Good. Time to get this over.”

  A solemn procession of officers, the warden, the state executioner and Detective Parker walked Dane down the long corridor to the waiting electric chair. A few half-hearted calls of “Dead man walking!” followed their progress. Outside, the rain grew heavier, and Dane faintly heard the rumble of thunder.

  Dane was asked if he understood what was happening before he was seated in the chair, and he just nodded grimly. He was then strapped in by the officers and, with a medic overseeing the process, the executioner attached several electrodes where they needed to go.

  Dane looked out at the viewing area: he did not recognize any of the five people there but figured most were from the press, and that the one well-dressed older man was likely the Senator or someone from his office. Dane fshed him a wide grin just as the hood was pulled down over his face.

  He heard the count down and felt surprisingly calm.

  Thunder rumbled outside and rattled some of the windows of the prison.

  Then he heard the switch go down, followed by a loud buzzing sound, and felt every cell of his body suddenly feel like it had been set on fire, as a blinding radiance filled his eyes. The pain was beyond anything he’d ever experienced but also somehow oddly comforting, maybe even familiar.

  Then he felt nothing.