"Hi Steve." Howard entered the office and closed the door. His calmness was back.

"What do you think you're doing in here? You have no right to just barge in..."

Howard pulled the gun from his pants and held it out in front of him. He didn't aim it at Steve, just held it pointing at the floor to get his attention.

"Jesus Christ! Of all the stupid...Howard give me that thing. You're going to shoot yourself in the foot."

Things were quickly going downhill. Wasn't Steve supposed to be s.h.i.tting in his pants about now? Howard pointed the gun at Steve's head. His hand started to shake.

"You're not the one in charge here, Steve. I am. So just calm down and don't do anything stupid."

"I can see you're drunk. Why am I not surprised?" Steve stood up, pushing his desk chair off to the side. "And you're telling me to not do anything stupid?"

"Shut up!" Howard raised his left hand trying to steady the gun. He could hear voices on the other side of the door as the curious cubicle dwellers no doubt saw what was going on through the window.

"This is pathetic, even for you. I know you don't have the guts to shoot me." He lifted the handset and dialed 911. "Maybe some time in jail will finally help you get your s.h.i.t together."

"Put the phone down," his voice cracked. "I'm serious, I'll shoot you!" Howard's eyes started to water. Why wasn't this going like he had planned?

"I've got a lunatic with a gun in my office," Steve said into the phone. "His name is Howard Bell."

Howard swatted the phone out of his hand and Steve went for the gun. They wrestled over the Colt with the desk in between them. Steve easily overpowered Howard and both men lost their balance and crashed to the floor. Steve pinned Howard beneath him but couldn't pull the gun from Howard's grip. Several men from the office stood in the doorway, debating if they should help their coworker or run to safety.

The gun fired just inches from Howard's face, temporarily blinding him from the muzzle flash. The report from the shot in the tiny office felt like hammers. .h.i.tting his ears. The upper half of Steve's head evaporated into a red mist of blood, bone fragments, and gray matter. His lifeless body fell onto Howard.

The heroes in the doorway ran the other way with the rest of the screaming office staff. Howard pushed the body off him and slowly got to his feet, looking out the window as two police cruisers screeched to a halt in the parking lot outside. He stumbled out of the office on wobbly legs as the last of horrified workers ran out of the front door. Howard ran to the nearest cubicle and crouched down by the desk. He rubbed his face and his hand came away red from Steve's blood.

"Oh s.h.i.t," he murmured to himself. "Why did he do that? Why wasn't he scared?"

He slowly stood up and peered over the top of the cubicle. Several cops were already through the front door with their weapons drawn. Howard ducked down and stared at the floor. Adrenaline flooded his system and he fought back the incredible urge to jump up and run for the back door. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart and the ringing in his ears.

Indecision crippled him as the seconds ticked by. Drop the gun and stand up, hoping the cops wouldn't gun him down or make a run for it?

Someone jumped out from the cubicle in front of him and Howard panicked, reacting with his trigger finger. It was Sal Hernandez from customer service. The bullet hit him in the thigh and he collapsed, screaming on the floor.

Howard stood up and immediately heard a cop yell at him to freeze. He spun around with his gun raised and the cop fired, missing Howard by inches. He yanked wildly at the trigger as he turned to run, still firing blindly at the cops behind him. Howard almost tripped over Sal as he stumbled for the back door.

He sprinted down the alley behind the building as the emergency alarm wailed behind him, reaching the receiving dock just as a Speedee Courier delivery van pulled up. The confused driver got out of the van and froze in place when he spotted the gun in Howard's hand.

"Get out of the way!" Howard pointed the gun at the terrified driver. He put his hands over his head and kneeled on the ground, mumbling a prayer.

Howard jumped into the running van and yanked it into gear. The van lurched forward and smashed into the fence across the alley. He backed up and got it under control before speeding down the narrow roadway. He glanced into the rear view mirror and made out at least three police cruisers closing in on him.

When the delivery van left the alley and entered Dakota Drive, Howard had it up to over fifty miles an hour. Jessica Anderson was driving a Toyota directly in the path of the van. Jessica had just left Willmar Industries after picking up some cash from Eric Anderson, one of Howard's ex-coworkers in the shipping department. Jessica thought it would be a nice day to take their two kids to the zoo and Eric left that morning with all the weekly cash in his wallet. Little Brian turned two the previous week and Sophie was only four months old. Brian and Jessica were killed instantly as the delivery van smashed into the tiny hatchback. Baby Sophie would hold out for another three days before pa.s.sing away in the pediatric intensive care unit with Eric by her side.

Howard was ejected through the windshield on impact and sailed over the mangled car to the other side of the road. He lost consciousness as the sound of wailing sirens grew closer.

8.

"If it weren't for them G.o.dd.a.m.n n.i.g.g.e.rs at Quentin I never would have ended up in this s.h.i.t hole in the first place," said Carl.

"Uh, huh." Howard stared absently at the back of the prisoner in front of them as they marched to the mine. A guard had brought Carl back to the barracks that morning just before Howard and the others headed out for work in the tunnel. Carl didn't mention where he had been or what happened, but his face sported fresh cuts and bruises.

Howard was relieved the night pa.s.sed with no incidents from Big Wilbur but his mood was sour. The gravity of his situation was finally starting to take hold and depression washed over him like an oppressive blanket.

"Had to kill two of *em when they jumped me in the showers," Carl continued. "G.o.dd.a.m.n n.i.g.g.e.r queers, can you believe that s.h.i.t?"

"Uh huh."

They walked toward the mine as Carl continued the story of his actions that earned his trip to the island. Howard was lost in thought, thinking about his own story. The vivid dream from the night before still spun through his mind.

He remembered sitting through his trial listening to the terrible things he had done and feeling as if it were somebody else they were talking about. The district attorney claimed Howard Bell murdered his ex-boss, a police officer, a mother, and two young children. Howard still couldn't believe it. He had been someone else that day. That person killed all those people and maimed poor Sal Hernandez. And now he had to pay for that man's day of insanity. He would pay for it with the rest of his life.

The DA held the better hand at the trial than his own lawyer did. Howard's clean criminal record didn't stand a chance against Officer Kane's twenty five years on the force. Kane and his wife were in the process of planning their retirement to Wisconsin's north woods. A bullet to the face from Howard's gun as he ran like a coward ended those plans.

The jurors had their minds made up even before the DA held up pictures of little baby Sophie. Temporarily insane or not, a victim of alcoholism or not, Howard was a monster that deserved much worse than what he dished out. Since the state of Wisconsin could not put him to death, it would do the next best thing and send him to the International Experimental Rehabilitation Facility.

"That's why I had to beat the s.h.i.t out of Reg," Carl said. "You and me got to stick together, Howie."

"What?"

"I said, that's why I had to put the hurt on *ol Reg. G.o.dd.a.m.n boy, ain't you ever paying attention to what's going on?"

"Sorry," Howard said. "My mind is somewhere else. Who's Reg?"

"That's the name of that skinny little twerp who was aiming to steal your shoes."

"Oh, right."

Another day working in the mine started out as any other. Howard was on pick-ax duty and Carl worked right alongside him flapping his gums the whole time.

A few hours into the day, Howard noticed some commotion further down the tunnel. Several of the other workers stood around a section of the wall investigating something out of the ordinary.

One of the guards noticed their slacking. "G.o.ddammit, what's the hold up? Who told you maggots to stop working?"

"We found something, Boss," one of them said. "Something buried in the rock."

"I don't give a fiddler's fart if you found King Tut's tomb. You c.o.c.ksuckers better get back to work."

"He's right, Boss," another worker added. "You better have a look."

The guard reluctantly sauntered over and Howard took a chance to sidle his way closer to discovery. A smooth metallic surface of something larger hidden by the rest of the wall stood out against the dirt and rock.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned." The guard took off one of his gloves and rubbed his hand over the metal. Thoughts of buried treasures and riches no doubt danced through his mind.

"Well, don't just stand there, keep digging. I want to know what the h.e.l.l we're dealing with here." He noticed the rest of the workers had stopped their duties in curiosity. "Get back to work! We ain't taking no break here!"

Howard and his partners turned back to their tools as the few men by the thing in the wall carefully sc.r.a.ped and picked at more of the rock surrounding it.

After an hour of digging, more of the metallic surface was unveiled and an even more important discovery was made. A seam of some sort, not much more than a paper thin crack, appeared on the surface. After cleaning and dusting with the men's gloves, they realized the seam formed the shape of a door. It was c.o.c.ked at a twenty degree angle to the floor of the tunnel.

By this time, Howard had quietly worked his way into the small group working around the object and n.o.body seemed to notice. "Looks like some kind of doorway."

"No s.h.i.t it's a door," said the guard. "You don't have to tell me that."

"Yeah, but a door to what?" asked one of the others. "What kind of door is buried underground?"

"Maybe it was some kind of missile silo or underground base," suggested Howard. "You know, like from the cold war?"

"Look at this." One of the men brushed away the final chunk of dirt next to the door. "I think I found a switch to open it or something!" As he continued to wipe away the fine dust lodged into the cracks, a lever of some sort was definitely starting to take shape.

One of the other guards came over to talk to his comrade. "Hey Dan, it's getting to be about quitting time. What do you want to do? I think we better go back and tell the warden."

Dan the guard rubbed his chin in thought. He didn't want to report the finding to the boss only to be pushed aside and not get proper recognition. If he played his cards right a bonus or promotion might be in store.

"Naw, I don't think we want to be talking to the warden just yet, Steve. I want to know for sure what we're dealing with here. Listen, you take the men to the mess, I'll stay here with three or four of them, and we'll see if we can't figure out this door."

"They're gonna be asking what happened to you."

"Just say these boys were lipping off so I made them stay in the hole until supper was over. h.e.l.l, I don't know Steve, make something up."

"All right Dan, if you say so."

Steve the guard ordered the men out of the tunnel for supper and Howard was relieved to find himself as one of the chosen to stay. He was starving but curiosity about the door had him as hooked as the others.

They carefully picked away the dirt from the mechanics of the lever until it looked suitable to give it a try. Howard and the others turned to the guard who watched them intently with his shotgun at the ready.

"All right boys, somebody give that thing a tug and see if it works."

Howard grabbed a hold of the lever and pulled. At first it didn't want to budge. After giving it a two handed try and a third hand from one of the others, the lever finally started to give. They moved it all the way to the bottom position and stood back. Nothing happened.

Howard was just about to say something when he heard noises on the other side of the door. The seal broke with a soft hiss and a half-inch gap suddenly appeared. Howard and the others looked at each other but didn't say anything. They turned to Dan the guard.

"Push it open," he said barely above a whisper. Burt Westle placed his hand on the door and gave it a push. It moved back a few inches and slid to the side like a closet door.

The blackness inside offered no details until a faint light flickered on somewhere within. Within a few seconds the lights were at full efficiency. "I'll be d.a.m.ned," muttered Dan.

9.

Warden Matthew Scott removed his gla.s.ses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just what exactly are we dealing with, Corporal?"

"Sir, you got me," Dan said. He shifted his weight in the chair and gripped the rim of his hat on his lap. "If I would have to take a guess, I uh..."

"Yes?"

"Well, now don't hold me to this, but it looked like some sort of s.p.a.ceship."

"A s.p.a.ceship?" Sergeant Cottrell asked. "Are you s.h.i.tting me?"

"Calm down, Sergeant," the warden said. "Let the man speak." Cottrell grunted in disapproval and leaned against the wall next to the warden's desk.

"Yes, Sir," Dan continued. "It looked like some sort of hallway you'd see on one of those Star Trek shows. I didn't do nothing but stick my head in and take a quick look, but that's what I first thought of. I could be wrong, of course."

The warden removed a cigarette from his pack and lit it. "What exactly did you see besides the hallway?"

"Not much. Just a couple doors on either end, lights on the ceiling, that's about it. Whatever it is, looks like it's been there for an awful long time. The air inside was stale as h.e.l.l and it was pretty dusty. That's when we high-tailed it back here."

The warden inhaled deeply from his cigarette and exhaled it through his nose. He turned and looked out the window for a moment before speaking. "Sergeant Cottrell, I'd like to get a better understanding of just exactly what it is buried in the ridge. I'd like you to put together a small team to investigate it."

"With all due respect Sir, don't you think we should tell the feds about this first? I mean, we're just a prison camp and I don't know the first thing about any s.p.a.ceships."

"Do I need to remind you two why we're digging in that hole in the first place? How do you suppose we explain that? Besides, this is my island. Not the feds. I'll decide what action we take. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir," Cottrell said, embarra.s.sed to get corrected in front of one of his men.

"Look, if you're worried about safety, just send in a couple inmates first. If they come out okay then we can have a closer look."

10.

Howard was chosen to go through the door because he was one of the men who opened it. Carl was along simply because he happened to be sitting with Howard when the guards came. Howard and Carl were issued powerful flashlights and a small two-way radio. The guards had their usual a.s.sortment of small arms. Not so much to keep Howard and Carl under control, but mostly for what might be beyond the door.

Cottrell studied the door for the first time and seemed unimpressed. "Get your a.s.ses in there and see what you can see," he told the pair of prisoners. "Bell, you give me a holler on the radio and let me know if you think it's safe in there."

Howard nodded. Carl smiled at Cottrell. "Wish us luck."

"Move yer a.s.s."

Howard and Carl stepped through the door and on to the slanted walkway. They slowly moved down slope to the closed door at the end of the hall, shining their lights on a red b.u.t.ton next to the door.

"Seems simple enough," Howard whispered.