"Death Row 01 - The Fugitive" - читать интересную книгу автора (Black Jaid)

Death Row: The FugitiveWarning:


The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers.
"DEATH ROW: THE FUGITIVE" has been rated NC-17, erotic, by four individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this e-book are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy...



Prologue

My beloved Kerick,
How I grieve for you...for all that you have lost and for all that you will continue to lose as you grow into manhood. Why couldn't life have dealt us a better hand, my son?
But when all is said and done, it still comes down to this: there is no utility in wishing for a different life, nor is there any use in dreaming of a happy ending.
There is only the reality of our existence and the reality of our need to survive.
Margaret Riley,
December 24, 2216









Chapter 1
Cell Block 29: Death Row unit within the Kong Penal Colony
40 miles outside the Mayan pyramidal ruins of Altun Ha in former Belize
The United Americas of Earth, December 17, 2249 A.D.

"Prisoner, Riley. Remove your clothing."
Kerick Riley's dark head came up slowly, his cold gray eyes flicking dispassionately over the smirking face of the prison warden. Wiping mud from his eyes, he rose up to his feet from the pen of wet dirt and blood he'd been kicked into, simultaneously noting everything there was to see about the executioner.
From the pristine white silk robe the warden wore, to the flash-stick in his hand that could ignite and thereby sizzle a man to death at mere contact, nothing escaped his notice.
For fifteen years, seven months, three weeks, and five days, Kerick had waited with an inhuman patience for the arrival of this moment. He'd never allowed his mental acumen or extreme physical strength to lessen from lack of use over the years, that both would be there to serve him when the hour of reckoning had at last come upon him.
It had worked--it would work.
Never once in all of those fifteen plus years had he allowed his thoughts to betray him. He knew when it was safe to think, and he knew as well when it was necessary to create a void in his mind to prohibit a detection scanner from probing what went on in his thoughts.
From a young age he had been taught the necessity of control, his mother having gone so far as to beat the lessons into him. She'd used such harsh tactics not because she had hated her son, but conversely because she had adored him, and more fundamentally, because she had wanted him to live.
The lessons in bodily and mental control passed down from Margaret Riley had done more than help Kerick survive in the violent world of twenty-second century
Earth; they had also made it possible for him to survive this day. Today. The dwindling hours of remaining daylight prior to his execution.
Kerick's sharp gray eyes continued to study the warden, but betrayed none of his emotions. They simply calculated and assessed with an almost robotic precision, doing the same as they'd always done these past fifteen years. He realized that the sadistic warden had always despised--and envied--his ability to think and behave as though he were a machine, for it made predicting his behavior impossible.
Warden Jallor tapped the flash-stick against his thigh, his eyebrows shooting up mockingly. He believed he'd won, Kerick knew, thought indeed that the prisoner was about to die...
But--no.
For nearly every waking moment of the past fifteen years, Kerick had calculated, assessed, plotted, and planned. He had noted the weaknesses of the 50-story structure surrounding him, had made certain that he'd learned all there was to know of the seemingly impenetrable fortress that was his prison. For the most part, he understood that Warden Jallor was correct--Kong was an impenetrable fortress. But Kerick also understood that there was no such thing as invincible, and he had spent fifteen years learning how to defeat the undefeatable Kong.
Officially entitled Correctional Sector 12, the penal colony of Kong had gotten its nickname from an old black-and-white movie none from Kerick's time had ever seen but all had heard tell of. It was said that in the old movie the god-like monkey King Kong could escape from any prison, but not even the Mighty Kong could escape Sector 12. For most prisoners, that statement turned out to be chillingly true, but for Kerick Riley...
"Remove your clothes," Warden Jallor snapped, his patience nearing an end. His icy blue eyes flicked down to the innocuous bulge in the prisoner's pants.
"Now."
He wanted to kill him. For year after bitter year, Kerick had comforted himself with thoughts of Jallor's death, with thoughts of avenging himself--and avenging his mother. But for the moment at least, such was not to be. He needed the warden alive. For now.
But when it was over, when all was said and done...
Kerick's stoic gaze never wavered from Jallor's as he slowly, methodically, removed first his prison-issued woolen tunic and finally his woolen pants. Both garments were a dirty, muted brown, filthy and greasy from having been worn for three solid years without a cleaning. In truth, removing the disgusting clothing was practically a relief. It would mean he was naked during the escape, but so be it.
When he was finished, Kerick stood before Warden Jallor in stone-faced silence, his heavily muscled six-foot five-inch frame completely divested of clothing, his brooding eyes that saw everything piercing through the warden's.