By Joshua Ryan
Something woke me. It was the bus slowing down as it took an exit. There was nothing around but trees. Tall pine trees. I knew we’d been going north, but I didn’t realize how far we’d got. This was the fucking forest primeval.
“Where are we?” I asked.
Junior was awake and looking out the window. He nodded toward something coming into view. It was a sign with an arrow pointing to the left.
MASKAWA
Ferry 12 m.
“Maskawa,” I said. “That name sounds familiar…”
“Worst prison in the state,” he muttered. He didn’t say it like “I don’t give a fuck.” He said it like, “fuck, this is bad.”
Then I remembered. Dean said that too. He said it was the toughest prison in the state. When he said I wouldn’t be sent there.
“Maybe we’re not stopping there,” I said. “Maybe they’re taking us someplace else.”
“Ain’t no other joint up here. Maskawa’s the end of the line.”
