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It’s early morning as he wakes up to the sound of someone yelling at the end of the cell-block. His cell is cold and dark yet he’s drenched in sweat. Sitting up his feet touch the cool concrete as he slowly stands. He walks over to the sink and turns the faucet, the water shoots out with several quick bursts before attaining a steady flow. Cupping his hands he washes his face barely able to look at himself in the mirror. After drying himself with a towel he turns to his bookshelf and seizes a worn paperback of ‘Lord of the Flies’. Lying back in his bunk he finds his place in the book but his mind is somewhere else. It’s the day of his premature release, yet Sawyer can’t help but feel this nagging guilt. He mutters under his breath, “It’s every man for himself, don’t forget that.”
The guard approaches, “Well Ford today’s your lucky day.”
“Ain’t anythin’ lucky about it Johnny Law.”
The guards face slightly red with anger whips open the cell door, “It’s lucky for you that you’re getting outta here and I won’t be able to throw your smart ass in the hole this time!”
Sawyer smirks, “Well I guess you’re right about that hoss.”
As Sawyer exits the prison gates he’s surprised to find his old partner Hibbs sitting on the hood of a red ‘72 Camaro with white racing stripes. Sawyer picking up his pace yells, “Son of a bitch! Hibbs, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
Hibbs with a grin says, “Well, I was heading down to Tampa and heard you were getting out. I figured I’d stop by and bring ya along for the ride.”
“Tampa, ain’t nothin’ down there but seniors and gators. What you gonna do, buy yourself some new boots and play some bingo?”
“Your just gonna have to come down with me and see for yourself.”
Sawyer took a minute to think then said, “Hell, I could use some new boots. Let’s hit the road Keebler.”