Panic

Jason shrugs at Nate. “I don’t know…I guess just let him sit and think about it. There’s not much we can do… unless we turn him over to the police like we threatened to begin with. I don’t even know if he’s been telling us the truth now… if he did go to the Agency yesterday, we might assume he’s been feeding us lies.”

He sighs deeply. “Eh, well… we can go back later. I’m gonna head out to be with Katie. If you need anything, call, but you’ll have Katie to answer to if you take me away from her.” He grins a little before heading back up the hall.


Carson crawls to the cot, pulling himself up onto it again. He was glad to be rid of Nate and Jason, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He was miserable, and nothing could take that misery away.

He slouches in his seat, feeling the weight of his world. These people here didn’t really know him… they didn’t know his cowardice… his crimes. But he knew, and they were haunting him.

He replays the day before in his mind. He couldn’t even have done that right. He’d been so close…but had turned not once, but twice, undecided and confused. He was a fence-rider, out to do the best for himself, no matter the cost to others. It’s who he was. And he hated himself for it.

Reaching down, he pulls a pocket knife out of the shaft of his shoe. No one had bothered frisking him. He thinks for what seems an eternity. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed. His thumb flips open the knife blade and he fingers the edge, testing the sharpness. His life meant nothing…it hadn’t since his family had died. He was a crook, a thief, a liar, a murderer… A week ago that meant nothing. Today it meant a soul brimming with guilt – a guilt that he could no longer handle.


Ty makes his way down the hall, his keys jingling on his belt. It felt odd to be here this time of day, but not everything had gotten done the night before, Hal had a couple days off, so Ty was pulling extra duty.

As he walks past the holding cell, something stops him. He wasn’t sure what…nothing seemed out of place, and it was quiet…but something tugged at his gut. On a whim, he goes up to the door and looks through the window to check on things. His face pales and he immediately goes for his keys, fumbling for the right one. Finally finding it, he rushes inside.

Carson is on the floor, blood everywhere, his wrists having been slit by the knife several feet away. Horror strikes Ty and he kneels down, checking his throat for a pulse, barely able to find one.
Panicked, he goes for the intercom. He knew Rick was gone – he’d seen him leave earlier. “Misty.” His voice comes across urgent and scared. “Misty get down to the holding cell NOW and bring help. Carson’s in a real bad way." Letting go of the button, he goes back to Carson, tearing off a part of his own shirt to try and stop the bleeding.