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The Belletrist, Page 5

Miranda Mayer

  * * * *

  Jacob the new, Jacob the imposter... With a quiet, whimsical smirk, he gave the beast one last cutting gaze, and then followed the swaggering corrections officer down the corridor, ignoring the comments and the glares of the inmates he'd virtually ignored for eight years. They all sensed his power, and they feared him. As they walked away, one guard called out a request to the Plexiglas window where more guards watched, and the cell door jerked into motion. Just before the aperture became too restricted; Brian stepped out of the cell, and with a besotted grin, climbed up onto the railing of the mezzanine, and with an crazed laugh, he threw himself down the forty feet to the common, where his round head cracked open on the hard, scuffed concrete floor.

  The commotion didn't slow Jacob's release; which he expected it would. He was given his old clothes in a black garbage bag, and a Ziploc bag of his meager possessions. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted up at him from the clothes as he pulled them out. He was slightly amazed by the longevity of the aroma. Eight years, and it was like he'd just stepped out of the bar where he'd been arrested. He put the clothes back on, not liking that it felt like his old persona was wrapping itself around him again; he did not like it at all.

  His ID card was there. Richard Mosely gazed back at him, his face a mirror to the blank mask that was in front of it. Richard Mosely wasn't there anymore, wasn't needed. With a flick of the wrist the card sailed into the garbage bin, along with along stale pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He put his fairly empty wallet into his back pocket; donned a slate-gray jacket, and strode out of the room, where he was accompanied through the series of gates that led to the unknown. It took him a moment to realize he was out. One minute it was gate after gate, buzzing him through, turning keys, latching bolts, and then suddenly, he was standing facing the a row of boarded up houses. The slam of the gate behind him reminded him of what he was doing and where he was. He straightened. He needed new clothes. A new persona. He was Jacob now.