The Astor, Maximum Security Penitentiary. Grimmest place in Valoren City. Built in the sixties to house every kind of criminal imaginable. The whole place is maximum security. Under lockdown every night and the prisoners are kept in tiny cells that you couldn’t even swing a cat in.
The rules are stringent. There’s no room for leniency in this prison. The law is tough on those who are incarcerated. They lose all their rights when they step inside this place.
To be honest it gets me down.
This whole gig does.
But, it’s all I know.
“Commander?” Melissa.
Let me tell you about Melissa Briar. Honour roll student at Valoren City College. Graduated with a GPA of 4.0. Big chip on her shoulder. Blonde. Not in that way, see Honour roll student point above. Pouty lips, bedroom eyes. Though I’d never try getting her into bed. Her father would shoot anyone who tried that on. Takes shit from no one. Great at getting my shit together. Nothing like her father.
Doesn’t like me.
I nodded to her as she met me at the check-in point. She looked sharp as usual, her blouse looking crisp and ironed. Yes, I noticed that, not a crime is it? I iron my shirts. Being neat is important.
“What’s the plan?”
She lifted an eyebrow before scanning the clipboard that she was holding. “You get to speak with Prisoner seventy-seven before his last rites are read to him.”
Clenching my jaw, I said, “I was meant to be the one to make the decision regarding his sentencing.”
Melissa’s eyes actually softened as she said, “The General thought it best you didn’t.” It was unsettling to say the least that her father would think that. I wasn’t one to let people see my weaknesses. But, considering Lachlan was now on death row…
Squaring my shoulders and nodding to her, I made my way to the interrogation chamber.
Lachlan was already there. I paused at the door, looking through the one-way window. He didn’t look worried, in fact he was gazing up at the ceiling, one leg casually crossed across the other.
Pushing open the door, I strode into the room, expecting him to look my way. But, his gaze didn’t shift.
“G’day, Tav,” he said, his eyes flickering toward the mirror on the wall. It was the one-way window; we both knew that. Melissa would be on the other side, monitoring our conversation.
I sat on the edge of the desk, without speaking. I wanted him to look at me. Stupid, really. But, it wasn’t as if I wanted us to be in this position. If I could guess his motivation…if he’d tell me what it was he actually did. Because, you can bet whatever he was charged with wasn’t the full story…
“I want out of the City.”
I blinked. “Come again?”
Lachlan slewed his eyes in my direction. “I wasn’t planning on getting arrested, Tav. Was just trying to earn a buck or two so I could get out of here.” He sighed, leaning forward to tug at his shoelaces. “You shouldn’t have to be witness to this.”
“I’m the T-One now,” I said, brow furrowing.
Lachlan slapped his hand against his thigh and said, “Screw that. They’re going to inject me with poison. You shouldn’t have to see that.” I shifted to avoid his laser-glare.
“I’ve seen plenty of executions.” As if that helped any. Lachlan was…
“We’ve known each other a long time, mate,” he said. “Remember that big eucalyptus I tried to climb back when we were kids?”
I nodded; that was indicative of how crazy we were back then. Running around, getting into trouble as kids did. Not a care in the world. But, we were innocent back then. We let the adults do the worrying. That was us now, though. Adults…in control of our lives. Hah.
“You broke both your arms, you idiot.”
“You broke your leg.”
“Yes. Well. That was then, Mr Douglas. This is where we are right now.” I had to get this back on a more formal footing. “I want to know what the Hell you thought you were doing.”
One of those deafening silences filled the space then. It was unnerving. I had to break it.
“Lachlan…”
His eyes were dark when they met mine. “This society’s gone to the dogs, Daniel. They might as well just shoot everybody. I mean, have you ever wondered what’s missing?”
“What’s missing?”
“Yes,” Lachlan said with a brittle smile. “Look. How do we celebrate things?”
I blinked. “Uh…we hold a gathering and give a few speeches, and toasts…”
“Right. Is it joyous?”
“Celebrations are happy occasions. Yes.”
Lachlan shook his head. “That’s not what I’m asking, Tav. Is there joy? I don’t mean everyone smiling and clapping politely. I mean…people going crazy. Jumping, laughing, dancing…”
My stomach clenched, because I knew what he was getting at; didn’t want to admit it, but I knew. “Mr Douglas, you are walking a fine line…” I tried to keep my tone hard. He wasn’t even fazed, that glare still evident.
“Music, Daniel. Is there any music?”
I stood at the challenge in his voice. “Lachlan Douglas, it is bad enough you’re going to be executed, I do not need to hear this.”
He leaned back on the chair, tilting his chin up, lips drawn as white lines etched themselves on either side of his nose. “You know it’s the right question, Tav.”
My hands shook; clenching them didn’t help. “Music is forbidden in the City, Lachlan.”
His lips twitched upwards, as he said, “Guess you can figure out what I was doing then, you wanker.”
Slamming my hand down on the desk, I made myself jump; Lachlan jerked on the chair, pupils dilating.
“Do you think this is a joke, Lachlan? They’re going to kill you. I can’t…” My words ran out. I couldn’t stand here and watch him act as if everything was fine and that he wasn’t going to die in less than a day or so. Sure, he was brave. Bravest person I knew, considering. But, even he had to be scared.
Lachlan’s voice was softer when he spoke again, so I had to stop my internal monologue to hear what he said. “I’m pretty damn serious, something’s gotta give. We can’t keep going the way we are.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve been trying to make people aware of what’s really going on. The oppression. The keeping down of the man. Because, that’s what it’s really all about.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Not about music?”
Lachlan’s answering snort was enough of a response to that question, but he said, explaining, “Banning music was a way to control the citizens. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And, you don’t agree with that.” Not a question.
“Neither do you, Commander.”
Pinching at the bridge of my nose, I didn’t respond to his statement. “Do you have anything you want to say, before…?”
“Before I kick the bucket?” Lachlan lifted his shoulders. “I wanted to get out into the woods.”
“What?”
“Out of the City, Tav. See the rest of the world. Guess I won’t get to do that now.”
I frowned. “No one’s allowed-”
“Outside the City walls. I know that.” His eyes seemed to glaze over, as if he were looking right through me.
Something inside of me bled for him. Lachlan wasn’t one for being cooped up like a chicken in a pen. And, I didn’t mean just being here in prison. I don’t think Valoren City was big enough for him. But, he was born here, as was every other citizen. Then we all worked here until we died. That was just the way things were. No one ever left the City.
However, if there was anyone likely to try it…
I leaned forward, murmuring low so Melissa wouldn’t hear, “Would you have tried to breach the walls?”
The look he gave me chilled me to the bone. His eyes darkened and his words were clipped as he answered.
“I was always planning on leaving here. Doesn’t matter to me how it happens.”
Which meant only one thing. He was resigned to his fate. And wasn’t that just a kick in the teeth. Here I was, unable to accept that my friend was about to die. And he didn’t even care.
“Lachlan…”
He sat up straight, bracing his hands on his knees. “You know what I wanna say?”
“What?” I said as I prepared to leave the room.
“Trust your instincts, Tav.”
Author: marlytheadoptee
Best of…2014
The Real McTavish – Chapter 1 – Pull the Other One
Catherine
December 2014
McTavish
“My life was a series of routines and rituals. I always had my coffee from a chipped beer glass with one sugar cube. Always scalded the tip of my tongue. Then I’d read the sports’ section of the Herald Sun from back to front.
I’d pass the paper on to old Mr Hunter who lived in the apartment opposite mine. He knew what I was but he was always telling me how he’d been on covert ops in the Great War. Never knew if he was telling the truth. Guess he thought the same of me.
Then it was on to the gym on Providence Street and then the office.
The office wasn’t much. Just an old weatherboard that sat facing backwards on a tiny block right in the heart of town. And, that’s where I waited for whatever job came my way.
It’s hard to fathom how many jobs I carried out, but it all came to a head when I met Colleen. Her father was my final job.
That ruined me.”
The Real McTavish – Master post
The Uprising – Master Post
Don’t look back,
All you’ll see is scattered innocence.
Instead, move forward,
Leaving behind a trail of influence.
– Legacy, Sweet Death
The Uprising – revamped version 1 – Ch 1
What Does Christmas Mean to Me? – McTavish’s thoughts
Daniel McTavish – A/N This is McTavish as he originally came to me, long before he became the narrator of The Uprising. This McTavish is a former assassin, come youth pastor and in essence is the REAL Daniel McTavish. My number one muse.
“Christmas? Hmmm, I’ve never really talked about what this season means to me. I didn’t celebrate as a kid. Well, I didn’t celebrate the real thing. Didn’t believe in it. We did presents and the tree and a lot of eating. My parents were the devout ones.
I became a Christian later in life. Though I was raised by good Catholic parents. They’d be mortified by what I became in life, though. At least when I was younger.
Not sure they’d be particularly enamoured by my current profession either. They’re traditionalists. Go to mass every Saturday evening… I pastor youth at a large contemporary church. Not their thing really. But, I’m digressing aren’t I?
Christmas means to me? Community. Love. Joy. A lot of things that I lost over the years and had to regain. And, redemption. Or at least the promise of redemption. I mean, the coming of Jesus as a man into our midst? That’s a big thing. And the fact that He came to save someone like me?
Mind blowing.
I don’t deserve that. But, that’s another thing, right? Christmas is a time for joy not for reliving the terrible things I’ve done…
So, yeah. That’s Christmas to me.”
Why Do I Write?
So, why do I write? To entertain and to spread some joy in the form of creative, imaginative expression. (Even if the story is sad….I don’t always write happy endings…but that’s life, right?)



