Excerpt for CODE SEVEN by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

@ Copyright © 2016 by Willow spring All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this e-book are figments of the author’s imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

Summers, Willow. Code Seven Book 1. Hazy Dawn Press, Inc... Kindle Edition.

Email: mugambiedward5035@gmail.com 

Table Contents

1. Chapter one

2. Chapter two

3. Chapter three

4. Chapter four

5. Chapter five

6. Chapter six

7. Chapter seven 


Chapter 1

In my perception, most people tend to believe that their future is somehow static. A thought I have been working on in here for the past few months. Perhaps, it’s one of the meekest things I should have figured out long before I ended up in this hell cold dungeon. Where time doesn’t move, neither make sense of itself anymore. To be frank, it feels lonely and frightening. Though, recently I started conversing with myself. Guess going nuts sooner or later.

For Twenty seven years, I have endured more of misery than freedom. On count, twenty years of educating myself and the last seven years of fun and freedom. However, on the run from the law and everything I have worked so less to build. Guess what? Here I am rotting in a cell waiting to grow old and die. Simply because am scared, and I can’t withstand the thought or rather an option of hanging myself.

From what I hear, a few have tried it and lucky ones die. To the unfortunate, more years in prison and tough penalties likes of my next door buddy, Jay Stephenson. Penalties, are included where one is rescued at the near death experience. Incidents that are rare now days. We somehow think, the number of years added is possibly multiplied by the point which one was rescued. Honestly, am yet to know the formula they use for the calculations. All the same, I hear that’s how it’s done.

“Dude are you awake?” Jay whispers

“Ever men. I think I wanna be saved.”

“What? From yourself may be.”

“Nope, in case I don’t leave this shit hole you know.”

“This is home babe, relax and joy the swim in our Beverly mansion.”

(We laugh)

Jay is one hell of a monster. Call him a criminal mastermind, who earned a first class degree in computer science in the cadet. I keep thinking if we were to rank, for sure jay would be my second in command. He is convicted of seven murders in a row, eleven bank robberies, four drug related cases and of all, three assassination cases on government officials. Two of which actually succeeded.

At times, we communicate through a hole on the wall, most likely drilled by some other genius before us. He tells me he is forty three years old and serving fifty years in prison. Ten of which were added as a result of three suicidal attempts. However, he still makes fun of it. Poor jay, hope he had died. Oh, I didn’t tell you he still believes someday he is gonna be free. Funny ah!

Honestly, I don’t care. If he is gonna walk out a free man, maybe on a presidential amnesty or at the age of ninety eight, if he is lucky to make it. Am a little younger and my case is far more terrifying than his. I don’t talk much of it, basically because I never know where to start. If I did, a lot would change for I also look forward to my rebirth on my eighty seventh birthday. Luckily, spend a few years hopefully, telling my story. It has been five years now, guess thirty nine more to go.

“Spencer” jay shouts.

“what” I replied.”

“They are here boy, it’s time we take a break.” He shouts lowering his hoarse voice.

“Ok, old man let’s see who kicks some ass tonight.” Suddenly I hear the door hedges crackle and I know it’s time.

It’s gonna be a long time. So, let me breathe some fresh air for a minute, before I get back to my future stuff and smelling my shit for another day or two.

“Spencer, move it”. The guard shouts standing at the door.

Well, my cell is too dark, and that’s how they do it. I get up slowly and drug my feet towards the door. I never told you this place is hell compared to Alcatraz. All prisoners here are special in terms of first degree in crime especially murder, rape or even both at times.

I once overheard a guard speaking on the cell phone, call it Code Seven. That’s because its hidden somewhere in the mountains like an army camp. In here no visits, nothing, just twenty four hour watch in the inside and on the outside, on snip perfected towers.

I get to the door and stand at ease looking straight into his eyes.

“I said step aside,” He yells.

“Get your ass of my way kid. One more time and am gonna blow your fucking brains out.”

Life isn’t easy, so are we. I move fast to avoid getting kicked in my balls. He walks past me and directs his slashlight inside my cell. One of the first things they do every twenty four hours, to check on any suspicious activity. Anyway, I have been here long enough to know that.

On my left side there are two others, I mean like me. Apart from jay the other guy I hear he is deaf. Obviously, he doesn’t hear but he has been around too long than any of us. Jay tells me, he has served at least thirty years now. I keep asking jay, because this guy enjoys being alone. By now I guess he knows everything there has to be known about Code Seven. Well, I guess you wonder what’s on my right. Damn, it’s a ten foot wall. That’s why I never bother looking on my right. However, there are other prisoners in here, but on the other side of the wall. We interact a few times on the court though, we are still separated by a fence. This is how our specialty defines us in Code Seven.

“Move” the guard shouts. We suddenly turn right and drag our feet about forty yards towards the door, which leads to the court yard. At the door another guard takes of our cuffs and at last I get to see the sun shine once again. Jay takes along breath, stretches his arms and then looks down at me, smiling.” Dude, you are turning grey, seriously”.

“What”.i respond looking up at him.

“Yeah I guess am not the only old ass anymore.” He says winking his eye brows.

“Uh! How about we sit over there, the game is about to begin, right?” I ask.

“Yeah boy, let’s do this.” He respond glancing at a group of boys on the other side of the court.

“Today is our day. You know dat.”

“Yeah if we are the players, old man.”

The game most of us enjoy in here is basketball. It helps feel at home though, and pass time a few hours during the day. Our deaf guy, loves staring at the mountain views. So he sits on a brick, left on the far side of the court. So no one bothers him much. Back on the field, today we have Brixton boys’ verses alley. I say tough. I like being a fun of a few likes of Fernando, the Mexican guy with tattoos all over his face and Solo a three time jail escapee. That’s because, in here our pasts are just memories.

I have known him since the day we met at downtown police station. Back then, he had been my mentor. For heaven’s sake, I keep wondering why he is on the other side of the fence. Anyway, we talk less and his story is not that much different from mine. At times, he offers a cigarette on weekends especially Fridays. I bet he is the only guy that can beat my crime record so far. Though, sooner or later, he will be out I guess. I didn’t realize when the game ended, till I heard a siren wail. As usual, the three of us hurry back to our cells and on the other side, I hear they move ‘underground’, to some kind of labor job.

On my way in, I overheard jay and the guards arguing over the day’s game. Alley was down seven Neel, meaning Brixton boys had officially won the game. A few minutes later, I guess they started beating him up, because I could hear his squeals as I drifted back to my cell. That’s why this place sucks, but they say you all get used to it. One moment you are smiling, and the next moment you are screaming wildly. I had footsteps drift away and I knew the guard had left, probably to enjoy the party too. Guess on who? Silence kills this place. Sometimes it actually feels dead leave alone sick.

It’s too quiet. I barely hear anything apart from the jay am used to, and now he is absent. Well, someone once told me dying in here is not a big deal. Thus because nobody cares. You either get smart or get buried outside the walls. Because, we probably don’t exist and After all, only a few of us make it alive out of Code Seven. Besides, am back to smelling my shit. So, let me make a step in developing my new theory till the sun shines again.

I think freedom is what we miss. Personally, I had it all before I changed the course. Let’s say I had the best education, top grades and a little discipline. Of all achievements on top was my favorite, architecture. Yeah, am an architect? However, I have brought down a few in the last seven years.

Chapter 2

It all began at Brixton hills high school in the year 1998. Back in the day, I was a young talented musician looking up to a very bright future. In that, apart from biology and chemistry stuff, I was interested in music as well. That’s why I had signed up for a music class which was optional, and at the club too. To say the least, I was smart. In fact, I already knew how to play the guitar and piano before I even joined in the third grade. This in a great way, contributed to my popularity at such a tender age. Yeah call me a freshman, no offence.

“Mr. Adam you rap so well, who would you wanna be like a few years from now?” Mr. Hudson asked.

“jayzz of course sir.” I replied.

“Why jayzz and not Nicki or Rihanna? You people are still feminist yeah?’ Miss Helen argued.

“Not like that.” “It’s because am a men, pursuing the same career, I want a man role model you know.” I had answered.

(Whispers from the rest of the class).

“That’s ok, your right Mr. Adam,”

“it isn’t about feminists, let’s call it responsibility.” Mr. Hudson commented.

(A little silence).

“But you don’t have to be a woman? Just take a few good odds on their performance.”

“To have a role model, doesn’t mean you have to be exactly like them, right class?” Miss Helen had questioned smiling.


I think I saw Mr. Hudson try to defend his point before the bell rang. Oh, I felt sorry for him. The lesson was over and from the smiles I saw on everyone’s face, I could tell the lesson had been a success.

As usual, later in the day I used to join my three friends in the pool for a swimming competition. After that, make sure I got home by five p.m. in the evening. However, that day on 27th July 1998, everything about me changed for the worse. I guess that’s when my nick name spencer came along. This was after an argument with Nickson a friend of mine, just because he couldn’t tolerate the the fact that I had defeated him.

He jumped off pool, and came at me fast yelling, I had cheated. I did know that for sure, he would kick my ass if I didn’t do something. Brian and Henry were still in the pool, so I had no option on defending myself. I can say nick was tall and well-built. Thus, he obviously surpassed me in all combat prospects. For as long as I had known him, he used to be cool. That day, I didn’t know why he was so mad at me for beating him once. Most of the time he won, and none of us dared accuse him of anything live alone cheating. He increased his paces towards me, so as to strike fast before others could intervene.

“You son of a bitch, why Did you do that?”

“What, you got a problem?” I replied as I took a step back.

He threw his first blow, which hit me right on the face. God, it was so painful. Somehow I still feel it up to date every time I sneeze, especially now I have cold. To defend myself I grabbed his vest and pushed him back as he thrashed his left fist for another blow. Accidentally, he tripped over the swimming pool edge and fell right on his back me on top of him. I thought he could role me over, so I had held him tight. Astonishingly, he lay still breathing heavily just staring at me. By this time the others had come to my rescue. They all glanced their strange looks at him then me.

“Oh God, what have you done? Get off, he is hurt” Henry had yelled at me.

I quickly jumped off and left him alone. Things happened too fast that day. The last thing I recall after the incident was being kicked from behind into a cell at Brixton police station.

I had never been in such a situation before. I was shivering and freighted at the same time. Reason, everything I used to hear about this place was now real. The place was a little dark, apart from the dim yellow light that hit the wall on my right hand side. Which meant the sun was setting. Furthermore, I doubted whether my step dad would get to my rescue on time.

Before I could reconstruct the events of that day, I turned to ask officer about my accusations as he locked the door behind me. I wanted to ask him of Simon’s situation too, but it sounded a bad idea. So I had dropped it. More so, judging from the negativity he had shown earlier, I doubted whether he could tell. Of course, I was right. he didn’t. Judging that angry, terrifying look on his face, he was probably counting on my desperate state or even worse. One last look and he walked away.

Then, everything going on seemed too much for me. A few hours earlier in a music lesson, and now in police custody. I never imagined such a day would come. Well, it in fact did. Even if it would be over, I was quiet sure nothing would ever be the same. My girlfriend molly, my dad, everything would change eventually.

Suddenly, I heard someone breathe heavily behind me, so I had jumped back. Thanks to God I wasn’t alone. At the far corner, I spotted someone a sleep on the floor, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t tell whether he was facing me or the wall. That didn’t matter. All I hoped was he wasn’t one of those crazy freaks, who enjoyed raping other inmates. I thought, he noticed me getting closer to him. Well, the snoring suggested he was way too far asleep, probably in dreaming. So, I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall next to the door.

That night, I guess whoever the guy was and I were the only people in there. I could hear no whispers or screams only his snoring sounds. Soon, it was evening and thanks to whoever light the bulb on the corridor, that at least shed some light in.

The next thing I felt was a heavy slap on my face. I quickly jumped up even before I could open my eyes, and moved three steps back towards the door. Ready to scream if he was a ‘bad guy’.

“Hey kid what’s your name?” I quickly rubbed my eyes to see who had questioned.

“Am Adam sir, am really sorry to wake you.” I answered.

“How old could you be?”

“Seventeen. “I answered

“Call me Ben kid.”

“What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” he asked.

“There was an accident men, I think I hurt my friend.” I answered

“Uh! You can’t be in here for hurting your friend, unless pretty bad.”

I knew this place was rough, so I didn’t bother asking him why he had slapped me earlier. However, slowly he proved to be convincing and I told him my story. Looking at him I could tell he was one of those ghost thugs who snatch peoples stuff on allies especially downtown.

Every time I get surprised why some people like talking to others, their faces too close to theirs. Especially, if not related in anyway. For instance, this guy Ben had bad breath. The more I tried moving my head back, the closer he came. I just prayed he wouldn’t kiss me because I wasn’t gay and furthermore, I wouldn’t survive his bad breath.

I don’t know why he insisted on calling me spencer, however much I told him I was Adam. Spencer, my official name now, was invented by Ben that ghost thug. That night, we talked much. Sometimes I felt motivated or rather good of what I had done. Though deep inside I still felt guilty. Then, I realized to him every good saying or proverb meant the opposite. For instance, when he talked about standing up for himself or taking responsibility, he had to include someone dying. Which sounded a little weird at the time.

To be honest, something felt so good in the inside though I couldn’t really figure out what it was. Sometimes times it took control of me and I somehow enjoyed the conversation as much as he did. I felt fear drift away. How it all happened, I don’t really remember but I slept peacefully for the rest of that night.

The next morning, I was woken by an officer pulling me by the collar. I knew it was time to stand in court and have the judge decide my fate. I don’t remember telling Ben good bye, but later, I suppose that son a bitch stole a hundred bucks from me.

Nonetheless, later in the day I stood in court before the judge and a couple of others who wanted justice as much as Simon did. If, he was still alive. To my guess if he wasn’t dead, I was sure he had some sort of a severe spine injury. Furthermore, I wasn’t afraid anymore. Such that, everything that happened sounded like drama to me. For God’s sake, I wish I knew Ben had brainwashed me of the meaning of life.

Later, it turned out that Simon had suffered a severe spinal injury which had been an accident. It was a tough job for my lawyer to prove my innocence, despite Simon’s family demand for justice. Dad, didn’t say anything. He just sat in the front row next to my step sister Lucy, then a college graduate. He kept his eyes on me all along. But I could see pity in them though.

He had adopted me from the orphanage at the age of five and since then, all I know he had been a loving father. He once showed me a medical report indicating that, I was found abandoned in a basket at the train station. If you wanna know, this is one of the reasons I worked so hard to better my future.

After a few arguments here and there, together with my two witnesses, I was found not guilty. All the judge declared was, I had do some social work for the next three weeks and my dad had pay half of Simon’s bill at the national hospital. Later that day, I thanked my lawyer and my two friends for saving my ass. As usual dad and Lucy confronted me as we drove back home to Rosewood district, where we lived.

“Dad, it was an accident, ok? I swear I didn’t know that would happen.” I had apologized.

“Ok son, I know, just breath it’s gonna be ok.”

“Am really sorry dad.” I added.


All my life I had lived in that bungalow, embracing every single moment and privileges that came along. Looking back at everything I had been through, let’s say most of it was good apart from the first awful story, at the train station. For the next few days my sister went back to college in Florida and I carried on helping my dad at the shoe store.

Then, he still worked tirelessly on getting me enrolled into another school. For months I didn’t hear from my girlfriend molly, neither my friends Henry and Brian. Suppose, they had moved on, good for them.

Life for me became tougher every single day. Dreams of going to college and getting a degree, were diminishing little by little. Later, in fact i had thoughts and lots of them, on dropping out and at times even running away.

Astonishingly, all those crooked thoughts lead to what Ben had told me that night a year before. Simon, would be spending probably his entire life on a wheel chair, and that might have marked the start of freedom.

Chapter three

On may seventh 2005 I graduated from Johnson high school in Brooklyn, Texas. I had never been so happy in my life. Lucy and dad were a few of those who had celebrated my achievement in such a great way.

First, we had a celebration party at our house in rose wood, on one Saturday night. Tell you what, a lot of people showed up. Something that once in a while, proved how much I meant to them. So united such that, no one would ever think I was adopted.

I keep thinking, I could have saved myself that night, but I didn’t. Reason , I had invited few of my top friends from Brooklyn, who had been on my response team for two good years. It consisted of two smart twin brothers, who used to circulate weed in school and at times, around town on daily basis.

In fact, we had customers and lots of them. Let me say, I was growing up and if you remember, there was another member of my family, Simon when it came to expenses. He was in hospital now and then, so dad still had to contribute our share. I knew it killed him but he never dared say a word to me. So I had taken responsibility to make money fast and move on though, the hard way.

Things didn’t go well as planned. Since, I spotted someone standing on the porch staring at me, as I emerged from the kitchen. I recall she had winked, suppose she needed service. Wow! She was pretty, dressed in a white mini dress like the one molly had won on our first date. On the waist, one of those that need a light belt to match. I recall winking back to create an impression. All she did was smile and shake her bare shoulders like most girls do to impress guys.

I guess, this is because today most of those privileges are long gone and forgotten. I pushed my way through the crowd and as I got closer, she became familiar. Guess who? Molly my ex-girlfriend. To be sincere ever since Brixton hills, I had never met such a wonderful girl like molly. In fact, she was one of a kind. On my side I can say humble, passionate, loving and a beautiful young woman.

I wasn’t surprised when she spread her arms and hugged me so tight. Hell, she had grown. Probably gained a few pounds since the last time I had held her in such a way. At the moment, she seemed to enjoy relaxing her head on my shoulder more than anything else. The more she held tightly, the better I felt. Especially, her beautiful breast pressing against my chest as I surveyed at her curvy body. After a minute or two I had pulled it off. Guess it felt a little weird and too good at the time.

“Oh! Adam long time no see, how are you?” she said still holding my left hand.

I couldn’t help figuring out how to respond to that. I could have said good, but that wouldn’t have been enough. So I suggested we take a walk in the backyard, and have a talk. After all, let everybody dance, eat and drink to their fullest.

“Am good molly, still surprised by your beauty you know.” I answered

“Really?” she smiled.

“I like it every time I see you smile like dat.”

“Oh come on, you said that all the time, remember?”

“Of course I do honey”

“I just wish that incident hadn’t kept as so far apart.” I answered.

“Adam, congratulations and welcome to college.”

I really felt into her that night more than anything else. Even though it was my day, I felt the need to change the course no matter what. Let’s say for some reasons, some opportunities come once in a life time. So I did what any reasonable dude would have done after meeting their hot ex-girlfriend once in a while.

I sneaked her into my dad’s garage, which was separated from the house five yards overlooking our drive way. That night I had what I can say, I have never had ever since, not even during my high school days. Not that we hadn’t slept together before, but that night seemed so special.

I didn’t know for how long I had been asleep, till I was woken up by screams and gun shots outside. I suddenly dressed up, and before rushing out, I conversed a little with myself. If anything was wrong I always had a feeling, and most of the time I was right.

First, I was a drug trafficker, sorry to myself. So, every step I took, I had to be careful. Especially, when there was some weed circulating around. All I could here were chaos. All this time, footsteps seemed to disappear far from our house. So definitely there was a problem.

I had hesitated rushing out through the door that led to the living room, before I heard someone drop the sofa heavily. At the moment, I couldn’t hear any Screams apart from the violent voice of my dad. Which counted as proof, something terrible was on. I was gland molly was gone, so whatever was outside, I could find a way of dealing with it. I told myself.

As I took a glimpse through the peep hole, someone pushed the door open. So I got pushed back and lay on the floor ready to surrender in case, it was one of my big boys in town. The last thing I saw when i turned to look at whoever had pushed the door, was a man holding a G3 riffle on one hand and on the other, a batch that read CIA. The next thing, I was feeling dizzy. I think someone knocked me conscious from behind.

On May tenth 2005, I was found guilty in possession of two kilos weed, cocaine and heroin. Therefore, sentenced to three years in prison with tough labor. Which came as a surprise to my family, especially my dad.

Nonetheless, for the next three years I was the talk of the town. In fact, all of Brixton County. I was only a twenty one year old boy, an age which didn’t count at the time. I remember Dad was there to hear the ruling. I didn’t pay much attention to the crap they talked about, all I felt was sorry for him.

Perhaps by adopting me, he had made one hell of a mistake. Well, I hoped someday he would have to forget he had a son named Adam and just move on. Which I still doubt if possible. But at the time, I felt it worth for the old man.

More than once, I have heard people tell a story about a frog and a scorpion. Especially, in here in code seven. You wanna know how it ends? The scorpion still bites the frog, even after much conviction to help him cross the river. When the frog questions why? The scorpion answers it’s my nature to sting.

This is what I keep thinking every day, destiny is a matter of choice not fate. Why? Because despite our nature there always are decisions involved on every move. Furthermore, they can change our future for the better or for worse. Hey, I dint tell you that that the scorpion drowned right? Guess what happened next.

If you don’t believe me, am gonna ask for an opinion from my second in command. I hope he will be back soon though. He thinks, there is nothing more to do in here. Unless, you wanna play mind games with the guards, which often doesn’t end well. For now, I can hear footsteps nearing my cell. So let me prepare my ass for some daily meds. Suppose by now you know am sick.

Chapter four

That was the first time behind bars. I can’t say, I got to survive without challenges inside Bakar prison. Which is situated south close to the Mexican border. The first six months had been terrible for me. Especially, when it came to socializing and defending myself from some brutal inmates.

Bakar anyway, was far much better if had known others likes of Alcatraz and Code Seven existed. Some of the common stuff I went through, was being so young among old and ruthless killers. Likes of Bradly, extremely tough for guys like me.

However, I wasn’t the only one in the twenties. There were a few others, who somehow got used to being molested. They would give anything they had if asked to, without hesitation. On my side ,I was a little tougher. I can say pretends but I had to survive.

Furthermore, I wasn’t stupid to withstand the thought of giving my lunch or supper to someone then go angry. To say the least, I struggled. I got beaten up though after a couple of months, I guess they gave up.

I remember an incident when I first killed. It was on a Tuesday morning and as usual fresh inmates got to wrestle with the champion, as a welcome party to prison. The rules somehow supported it though it was illegal.

So, all inmates used to gather around outside their cells to watch the fight. I did know that wasn’t a fair game, but everybody had done it. So they enjoyed watching fresh ones beaten to death.

That afternoon, I felt tired and so, I had decided to take a nap peacefully in my cell. Suddenly, I heard someone scream as I approached my quarters. At first, I couldn’t tell whether it was mine due to a lot of noise from the spectators. As I came closer I could hear struggles and definitely it was in my cell.

I tiptoed closer and I saw a couple of men holding someone, whose legs spread between them. From their movement I could tell whoever was held down, was struggling. In Bakar, there were only two possibilities in such a situation. Either someone was being slaughtered or getting raped.

I had heard of several such cases being commented on by the senior officer on parade days, and here one was about to happen or already happening. I couldn’t let those sons of beaches do whatever the hell they were up to.

So, I quickly came up with plan. My room Mike, kept a knife hidden beneath his pillow. But that was way too far and I couldn’t get to it on time before they were on to me. So I had one choice. To distract them and dare a challenge in order to get a pass.

“Hey, what the hell, Put him down.” I yelled furiously moving closer.

From a far I could see the tall one was the leader of the phantom family, which comprised of the Mexicans. The tall one stepped back and came furiously at me.


“What” I said clenching my both fist.

“You wanna enjoy the party kid?”

“No, but that no good big guy” I said pointing at the boy.

“Now you tell me what to do you brat.” He had said trying to get hold of my neck.

The other two held a boy down just watching. The boy seemed younger than me and from the hopelessness on his face and tattered pants I could tell this was a rape case.

“Know am gonna kill you kid.” He said

“Yeah, I know.” I answered as I dived towards the other two and luckily ended up knocking one off.

Then, I quickly pushed the other guy off and pulled the boy behind my back. Before the short one got up, the other two came at me, clenching their fists ready to strike. I did what I had to do. I don’t know whether they saw me grab the knife under the pillow, since they hadn’t shown any signs of fear.

The first thing I did was stab the short one on the back, as he struggled to get up. The rest realized that immediately. So, they had tried to get hold of the knife. I don’t remember the guy on the floor getting up, but I recall struggling with the other two and stabbing the tall one twice, in the eye and on the left shoulder. Before I realized it, the other guy fled. To me and this boy, it had been a victory. Two bodies lay right in front of me.

If you don’t know, some laws never work inside the walls. Because later, I tried to argue my case showing a couple of bruises from the steel bed and a patch I got on my face. Surprisingly, my days in the chambers were reduced to a week instead of a month. I was happy the senior officer had accepted my plea of self-defense at last.

The chambers back then were some special rooms for criminals who committed crimes in prison like murder and assault. I don’t know whether they exist to date but I guess they still do.

A few days in the chambers, I was a totally different man. Whatever the case, I had nothing holding me back. So, I had pressed on my feelings of guilt and made them say, my step stones. I reasoned with myself about the future, and I had concluded that power, was what it had held for me all along.

Probably not a bad man but, let’s say I had the courage to do what had to be done. Like taking control of the situation the way Ben had explained that night. Since then, I developed my theories of conquest and dictatorship which seemed to work pretty well, the moment I left the chambers. Later, I fought my way to becoming the leader of the Phantoms, though I was an American.

For the first time, I was able to enjoy what champions or rather kings do enjoy in prison. Better food, cell, services and a little respect. In some way, I also acted as a mediator between the in mates and the law at times of crisis especially riots.

Note that all this never happened without challenges here and there. Now and then I lost men. Some died, others left for the chambers and a few walked on crunches and others on wheel chairs. I can’t exactly estimate how many deaths I was responsible for, but I once had the senior office want me extracted.

I think the reason I survived someone chopping of my head in exchange for freedom, was because Mr. Hudson got transferred. Tell you what, now he is the head of code seven. Somehow, from the way he stares at me time to time, I think he still remembers me. That’s why in the first place I said I hope to leave this place. Something I can’t be so sure about, as along as he is around.

For the next one and a half years I was a king, till I turned twenty four. I didn’t inform you that all these years I only had one visit from my step sister Lucy. She had informed me that then she was married and worked for some advertising agency in New York. I hadn’t paid much attention to her advice though, I knew she was quiet generous on offering it. She didn’t seem sorry, so we had a normal conversation about dad and ever since I never saw her again.

For the rest of the years I was serving, I became a little friendly to my fellow inmates and learnt as much as I could in return. During my last days in Bakar, I met this engineer named Harrison gates, a math genius. Well, I was smart but remember my knowledge was limited since I never had a chance to attend college.

Mr. Harrison taught me a lot of incredible stuff. From figuring out different structural designs, to how to identify their weaknesses. Which, was my favorite part. Every time he conclude, he used to say,” I hope you are not gonna try this shit spencer.”

I had a conversion with him one evening during supper.

“What do you ever think is the true meaning of freedom Mr. Harrison?” I had enquired.

“Freedom to me is doing whatever I wanna do with no limit, no fucking laws.”


“Yeah, that is what every preacher I met told me.” He had answered.

“And here you are in prison, right?” I had commented.

If I wasn’t wrong, whoever had this guy convicted was supposed to take him first for a medical checkup.

One minute saying this and there minute implying something else.

“Of course am in prison.”

“Because some freak think, with my skills this is where I belong.” He had answered.

(I laughed slightly)

For sure, at times he was quiet funny. Yet most of the stories he told, made a lot of sense. Let’s say from his reasoning point of view.

A few weeks later, I was a free men roaming back on the street of Brixiton. I had learnt a lot by then. All I saw were possibilities of something incredibly beautiful and at the same time the end of me. I remember promising myself not go back in prison and incase, it would be a long time before some law enforcement caught up with me.

People say the cost of freedom is high and some like us have always paid for it. This time round, I stood unshaken to prove the world wrong. There was no cost for freedom because, it was always there for whoever wanted to enjoy it. Hey, I can hear some footsteps. I think jay is back. Let me say sorry to this good friend of mine.

Chapter five

First I had the thought of I returning back home and begging dad for forgiveness. Something I hear once happened to a prodigal son. Am not much of a Christian but then, I knew I was about to be one. I would gather my courage, get home, knock and ask for forgiveness.

The good thing was that my dad had always been a believer for as long as I had known him. So the probability of being forgiven was high I guess. Someone once said, if you can be able to convince people in religion, you can make them do anything you want. For instance, what I was about to do.

If you remember clearly as much as I do, the year 2008 was the worst year of financial crisis. Life was too hard for me. Such that, if I decided to live on the street sooner or later I would be dead, and my body probably found somewhere in a ditch.

Let’s say I could have gone back, to being me. However, I couldn’t get to convince myself that being a bad guy was what I wanted, after everything I had been through. Furthermore, I was still on the watch. Thus, if I didn’t take care, I was quiet sure in weeks I would find myself back in prison.

So, I settled with first idea of being a prodigal son for once. Nonetheless, east or west home is the best. To be honest, I don’t believe that crap anymore.

On May twenty first in the year 2008, I decided to take a trip home. I was quiet sure my dad was then a lot older after three years of depression, trying to let go of me. Then, it sounded better than living homeless under a bridge, when I knew I could fix something so easily.

That morning, I took a train downtown to Jason place, one of my oldest boys in town. Jason had a normal life. Since after my arrest, he had given up the business and decided to earn a genuine living. I knocked at his door hoping he hadn’t moved.

So we had a conversation that morning after letting me in to his cabin.

“Hey men what’s up?”

“Am cool men, look at you bro,” i had answered.


“Oh! Sorry men.” “I know it’s a long story, feel at home spencer.”

I had never felt so good since I left prison. All I knew was a lot of my old friends used to turn a blind eye on me every time I asked for help.

Looking around Jason’s cabin, it was one of the pretty ones I was used to, before I headed to prison. It had two old sofas, a small wooden table and two stools on the sides. Apart from the old charts and maps on the wall, the room still looked good and it would hold for a few more years. At that moment, I turned to face Jason as I sat on the sofa that overlooked the kitchen. Also, pretty in good shape.

“Thanks men, am really happy you still remember me.”

“Of course I do.”

“If it were not for you, I could still be sleeping under that damn bridge or even worse.”

Tell you what. That’s how things happen at times. A few years I had this guy work for me for two grand a day. He had managed to carry on and purchase a cabin for himself. Now, things were different. I was the guy looking for a job and sleeping under the bridge. I just hoped he would return the favor.

“Now am the guy you were then.” We laughed.

“Jason I need your help today, I mean now.”

“Yeah men, anything I can afford, ask.” He had answered.

“I need a few bucks, and proper clothes.”

“How much do you need?” He said rubbing the back of his head with his right hand.

That would be tough. I knew, he wasn’t worth much. So if he was to help, I had to ask for a reasonable amount.

“Just fifty grand bro, please.”

I barely say please. If I do, am seriously in trouble and I need immediate help.

As matter of fact, he didn’t argue much because I promised him a refund as soon as I could.

Within no time, I left his cabin and headed to rosewood unsure of what awaited me. The last time I had talked to Lucy, I remember her, whisper that dad had suffered depression, but I hoped he was well or better because that had been three years before. The taxi drove through rosewood on to Luke’s drive, my destiny.

The place looked to have changed a lot in terms of environmental conservation. Also, from the look at the surrounding homes, I could tell a few had managed to be tycoons. Why was it that, this whole time I never felt guilty? The feeling was like I was returning from school in the old days. It never felt much different whosoever.

I arrived at my dad’s place before noon. I hoped he could listen to me, and if possible keep me for some time before I found a place for myself. I knocked gently on the door. The first time I didn’t get a response, so I had knocked again. When the door opened I wasn’t surprised to have a short gun pointed on my face ready to shoot.

The door swung open and as he came out, I took a step back, my hands behind my head. He looked older than the last time I had seen him. His hair had turned white and he wore glasses that rested on his flat nose little low for his eyes. So all that time staring at me, he looked above them.

“Who the hell are you?” He first questioned

Suppose he had forgotten due to old age, I would remind him.

“Am Adam smith your son dad.” I had answered.

“I never had a son, how about you get the hell of my property or I shoot.” He had threated.

From a far I could see a few people probably neighbors gathering to watch.

Dad just stared and to my surprise, he kept pointing the gun at me and moving closer as I took steps back off the porch. After a while, I could hear his voice sound more fierce. In prison, I had learnt this. So he was about to do something terrible that was of course shoot my face if I didn’t move.

“Okay, okay, don’t shoot am off.” I had pleaded I as I walked off his drive way.

The crowd was getting bigger and within no time I knew someone was about to call the cops. As I walked away, I remember turning back to take a look at him. Surprisingly, he just walked back towards his house, the shot gun placed on his shoulder.

That betrayal incident, I think triggered something deep inside me. I felt so sorry for myself. That night under the bridge I called it over. Whatever the cost, I had nothing holding me back from doing what I was about to do. Simply because I was nobodies’ son. From then it would be me against the world.

Chapter six

A week later, I was back on the streets looking for a job. In fact any job I could lay my hands on. First, I got a delivery job at a company that run an online store. At times it sucked but I had no choice other than to hold on, till I could at least manage to get a place for myself.

I worked pretty well in the first month. On the first day of following month, my salary was delayed due to some so called loss reduction law. I never got to understand that clearly. But, from how Owen my core worker had explained it, it involved deduction of some loss I had cost the company for example breaking a few items during delivery.

A few days later on pay day, things got worse than I had imagined. I got paid a half the salary I deserved. This meant that I couldn’t even afford to rent the cheapest apartment in town. That day I felt so angry. If they did know or had asked for some kind of experience when they had hired me, they wouldn’t have made such mistake.

For the record, I have one hell of a memory, for every big thing I have done over the years. On November second the year 2008, I took a walk downtown, on my right hand carrying a twenty litter gallon of petroleum. It was past midnight, the city patrols had cooled down. In other words, nobody could notice me easily or rather suspect anything.

Mostly at this time of the night, if you are on the street, you are either a prostitute, a thug, a policemen on patrol or some criminal trying to snick drugs here and there. So, no one gives a fuck about anybody else’s business except the police who at the moment relax on some street corners. Probably, treating themselves too.

I increased my paces down the road and turned a corner where I could see the warehouse a few meters a head. The company had its offices deep in the city and had this warehouse in the suburb. Especially, for convenience when delivering goods outside the city. However, this area was a little remote. Only a few estates and some sort of cottage industries which obviously close early. So the only thing I had to deal with was the guard.

Slowly, I approached the warehouse. It was gated and well light. Thus, if I had to get in, I had to find a way of convincing the guard. And if he didn’t surrender, once I was inside I would kill him. There was no way I could work so hard and still sleep under the bridge?

I slowly approached the gate. The smaller one was easier to break through, but first I had to be sure the guards weren’t too close. Slowly I stretched my head to have a glimpse through the narrow steel bars. Suddenly, I heard snores come from the inside just beside the wall. So, the guy had slept as usual probably not expecting anything. If he had no idea, this would be the worst night of his life. If not, he would be dead long before he got to tell anyone about it.

Slowly, I had climbed over, holding the gallon on my right hard and made it down on the other side. As soon as I took a step towards the guard who lay beside the pavement that lead to the warehouse, I felt a strong grip on my neck from behind. I remember struggling for my life. Whoever he was, I can say he tried. But I was a prison veteran. Taking me down like that, would never be easy.

A few struggles and I managed to catch the arms still chocking my neck from behind. I recall knocking his face hard using the back of my head. Within no time, he had lost control probably due to the pain he felt. Suppose I broke his nose. I then picked up a stone beside the pavement and hit him hard on the face as he wrestled back. He fell down without a word and there he lay breathing heavily. I couldn’t tell whether he was dead, but helplessness suggested he wouldn’t be long.

To my surprise, all that time the other guy was still asleep. I had a thought of killing him, but I got convinced to tie him up in case, I needed time to escape during the investigation. One thing I have learnt all these years is that, you can’t run forever. Sooner or later someone will catch up with you. So, all you need to do is buy yourself some time. So I carried out the duty and made sure he didn’t see me. He kept yelling.

“Come on dude, what do you want.”

“Just don’t kill me please.”

I never got to answer him. So I had knocked him out. He used to be there every time I picked up items for delivery. Meaning that, if I spoke he would have recognized my voice. I put up a few other proves that he had been involved, though I knew the CIA would soon figure it out. People say, at times you feel some kind of conviction for example not to do whatever I was about to. In my case, all of me was there. My conscience supported it that whole time.

That night, I torched that warehouse, and with it millions of dollars burned down. A week later I was on the run all around the country trying to find a refuge. I can say, the CID are the only people who almost broke the record, but they didn’t. I agree I wasn’t the smartest person on planet, but I found a way back to Brixton. Where, I knew was the last place they could looking for me. This is because the last place of contact had been Las Vegas, Nevada. Thus, to them I was still on the run.

In Brixton it didn’t feel secure roaming across the streets. So the last place I had decided to hide at Jason’s cabin. I knocked gently on the door.

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?” he had asked the moment he recognized me.

“Dude, am here to hide you already know that.” I had answered.

I dint want to attract attention from the passersby, so I pushed him in and closed the door behind me. He stepped back and then relaxed looking straight at me.

“Yeah, and you think this is the safest place?”

“No of course, just for a day or two.”

“Men, I don’t think so, you have got to leave.”

“No am not living, make a call if you want to.”

Sometimes giving people an impossible option during an argument is an easier way to win. Judging from the look on his face, I could tell he wouldn’t do it.

“Then what?”

“Relax.” I concluded as I rushed to his kitchen to grub something for my grumbling stomach.

That night he didn’t feel comfortable even for a second, but I couldn’t help it. I had chosen my path and he was on it. So, why not move on? I had thought.

Chapter seven

Since that day, I became the most wanted man by the CIA. Tell you what, I was a ghost. If they had any hope of catching up with me it would be after a long time. Furthermore, I had nothing to lose. For the next two years a series of events followed. Some small others major

Those days, I had assembled a perfect team for myself. So a lot happened in between. Just a few events here and there, without my consent. Running a gang of criminal masterminds, wasn’t so easy. But I was the king and the king had to be honored.

We broke into banks and stole every penny. At times. Kidnap, hijack and a few illegal business here and there in the deep web. I keep thinking if the judge had put into consideration every crime I had committed, I guess it would be worth hanging me at the Central Business District. But instead, here I am in Code Seven, Still holding on to hope of freedom.

Choices are what every human being has got to make a difference. In fact, time is such a valuable factor that equals nothing, not even freedom. Looking at it, I had the chance to change for the better. But, instead I had held on to the fact that, being a monster was who I was meant to be. You know why? Because I had lots of chances, till I lost everything and everyone I valued in my life. The first one had been an accident, and now I know I could have lived with it. I hear someone whispers. I think jay is back.

“Hey dude are you okay.”

“Ever better bro”

“What happened, you could just have let them win.”

“No men I think they want my balls.”

“What! Did they tell you that?”

“Yeah, men they took one from the dude next to me.”

“You mean the deaf guy.”


“I don’t know what to do, they want mine by morning, both.”

“That’s crazy.”

“And he said you are next.”


The end

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