Haven From Hell (Book 4): Alcazar Prison, page 22
part #4 of Haven From Hell Series
I also made a point of being part of the food delivery program once a week. That way I could have the joy of watching Levi and his choice cronies degenerate before my very eyes. What I saw pleased me. It took about six months for my poison to fully do its job. It was around then that my victims started dropping. Perhaps Levi, or someone, might have noticed, except that one of the effects of lead poisoning is the deterioration of one’s mental capacity.
During one food drop I asked Levi if everything was okay. He told me that everyone in Chieftainvale was getting sick. Now, I knew that wasn’t true because I’d been spying on them. The fact was that only the men in positions of leadership were getting sick, those who got to enjoy my limited whiskey shipments. I was sure that from Levi’s point of view that was what constituted ‘everybody’, however.
I reassured him that there was some sickness going around, and that I had it myself. I even offered him some medicine for it, a medicine which I was happy to ingest in his presence. It was a simple matter, then, for me to get together some prescription pain killers, which I promptly adulterated with yet more lead. That way what I gave him and his friends only served to hasten their end while offering temporary relief.
By winter there were no more violent morons running around, desperately using some pathetic attempt at religion to justify violence. There was no longer a threat of attack by those to lazy to work. At the same time, the women and children, especially the children, were free from the affliction. Both the affliction of the lead poisoning and the affliction of their fathers.
I lead a large group of Patriarch Fisher’s shooters into Chieftainvale in order to finalize a transition to a more secure form of government. I left one of Fisher’s men, Bartholomew, in charge of the place. He had no trouble getting every able bodied man of Chieftainvale who was left alive preparing the fields come spring.
Once when I was visiting, that same wife of Levi’s that had a smile at his expense, gave me a big kiss. She told me how I saved her family. How I freed her from virtual slavery. How this was the first time any of them had hope since leaving Texas. Turns out I was some kind of hero to them and I didn’t even know. Bartholomew asked me how I did it. How did I get rid of all the ranking cultists and save everyone else. How could I have freed every woman from a poor excuse of a man, and offer their children hope for a better future? He knew something was up.
I didn’t want to share my secrets so I told him, “‘The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is upon me, because the LORD had anointed me to proclaim the good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God.’” I especially liked that last little bit.
I thought that I could really get used to being a Judge. Too bad the Spirit was calling me onward.
Epilogue
Having decided that it was time to move on, Gideon, the Judge of the Americas and Agent of Divine Retribution, packed up his gear and began to pedal north toward the Great Lakes. After numerous adventures the young man eventually found his way to Lower Michigan, and crossed over to Flat Tail Island, where he was greeted with a hero’s welcome. That particular island was where over half the people he’d ever rescued had decided to settle, most from Down South.
During Gideon’s travels Andrea spent her days at the asylum, waiting for her sister to arrive after work to take her home. Although Andrea certainly was under no obligation to wait in the mental institution, her sister, Gina, thought that it would be for the best. Perhaps, she thought, Dr. Smithers would one day coax some words out of her.
The day that Gideon made his way to the island, both Gina and Andrea were pleasantly surprised to find the young man waiting for them at the door to their home. No sooner had Gina invited Gideon inside than Andrea had begun whispering intently into his ear. Naturally, Gina was overjoyed.
It was during one such whispering session that Andrea told Gideon all about the residents at the Asylum, including Mr. Dolt, “He hates the Incumbent. I think that if he ever gets out he’ll kill him if he can.”
Gideon replied, “Maybe I’ll have a chat with him, see if I can steady his mind. I’m real good at that sort of thing.”
Dr. Smithers couldn’t see the harm in allowing a friendly visitor, so the next day Gideon found himself in Mr. Dolt’s room. It was a mildly spartan affair, approximately twelve feet by fifteen, with a bed, dresser with a lamp on it, mirror, closet, and bookshelf full of very dusty books. Aside from the mirror there were nothing else hanging on the walls.
After introductions, Mr. Dolt, in keeping with the handicap of his madness, began his usual vitriolic rant against the leadership of Haven as soon as Gideon broached the subject, “He’s a liar, a fake, a charlatan, a cheat, a con artist, a fabricator, a deceiver! Did you know he used to work for me? Well, he did! He should be behind bars, the lazy slacker! He’s a bum, a goldbricker, a loafer, a good-for-nothing deadbeat.
“And that’s not all! Why isn’t anyone out looking for the real government? Because that usurper, that communist, that despot, that tyrant, that Hitler, that fascist, Mark, won’t let anyone find the real government, that’s why! He’s holding everyone prisoner to his own greed, avarice, cupidity, covetousness, voracity, gluttony, and edacity.” Mr. Dolt went on in a similar vein for quite some time.
After waiting for the man to finally run out of steam, Gideon replied to the madman, “Kudos on your use of synonyms. Have you ever thought of writing lyrics? I bet you’d be good at it.”
“Is that all you have to say!?” exclaimed an enraged Mr. Dolt.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of me or not,” said Gideon, “but I’ve been around, all over in the South and East. I’ve been through what’s left of Washington, the District of Colombia, and I’m sorry to tell you, but there is no government. At least not out there. What you see around here is what you get. Maybe you’d serve yourself better by getting your head on straight, chilling out, and then they’d let you out of here. It’s people like you that get everybody worked up over nothing.”
“But, but, but, Mark’s liar! He used to work for me! He can’t be the boss! It’s not right! I should be the boss, not him!” was the best of Mr. Dolt’s reply.
To which Gideon replied, “Dude, no offense or anything, but if you think for one second that anyone want’s you to be in charge then you’re crazy, and I don’t make that accusation lightly. You think anyone wants you to be Haven’s leader? Don’t be dumb. Even if you manage to get people to vote Mark out of office come next election, nobody would vote to make you the new leader. I’ve only known you for, like, ten minutes, and I wouldn’t trust you to lead ants to a picnic.”
Seeming to forget where he was for an instant, Gideon continued, “Hey, that’s a great idea. I think I’ll ask Andrea if she wants to go on a picnic with me. Thanks!”
Mr. Dolt, pushed beyond his broken mind’s ability to endure, grabbed a lamp off the dresser and made to strike Gideon. Gideon managed to avoid allowing either Mr. Dolt or the lamp to come to serious harm before extricating himself from the room.
Seeing Dr. Smithers waiting for him in the hall, Gideon said, “Sorry, Doc. That dudes beyond any help I can give. In fact, it looks like I might have made things worse.”
Dr. Smithers anxiously replied, “Are you okay? We all heard sounds of violence...”
“Don’t even worry about it. Mr. Dolt tried to brain me with a lamp, but no harm done. Right now he’s resting comfortably. I gotta tell you though, Doctor, I’m not a big fan of Andrea spending her days here if that guy is going to be allowed to roam free. I hate to say it, but I think he needs some kind of keeper.”
Mortified by the violence, and deeply worried at the thought of a visitor being attacked by a resident, Dr. Smithers replied, “Yes, yes, of course, I’ll petition for a guard at once. Are you sure you’re alright? If you are at all injured...”
Gideon made haste to reassure the doctor, “Like I said, don’t even worry about it. I get attacked on the road all the time, and those guys almost always use stuff more dangerous than a lamp. The important thing here is to keep poor Mr. Dolt’s wellbeing first and foremost in our hearts. That man is in a world of hurt, broken by the Change, he needs all the help we can give him, poor guy.”
After numerous assurances and reassurances that no one had been meaningfully injured, that no damage was done, and that there were no hard feelings, Gideon made to leave. Once gone, nurse Peters overheard Dr. Smithers telling nurse Holland, “That young man, Gideon, is something special, isn’t he? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as temperate as he in all my professional career...”
Fin
Won, Mark, Haven From Hell (Book 4): Alcazar Prison
