Eight
August skies were so beautiful. The clouds were huge, white fluffy blobs floating against that startling blue—the most beautiful blue Clarence had ever seen.
Tears slid down the sides of his face as he was carried, or rather jostled, to the van.
“Get the first-aide kit.” Randy clicked the key fob and unlocked the vehicle. “Warden will kill me if Clarence dies now.”
Clarence almost laughed at that. Someone else’s life depended on him living.
Another guard pushed open the doors from inside and stepped to the ground. The guy with the goatee looked familiar. But the other guy—that awful red patch would be unforgettable. Angry red thing sucked into the whole left side of the guy’s face. Clarence remembered his own clenched hands. Same red ropey scars—now with a little fresh blood. Ma
