Sentenced to Life

2

"No," She shook her head resolutely, walking away.

He frowned and cocked his head, dumbfounded. His tongue was thick in his mouth. He hadn't spoken above a whisper in years.

"W-What? What do you mean no? Surely you're curious?"

Emory shook her head, walking faster. "Not really. Bye!"

"You came all this way and you're not the least bit curious about this place?" He called out to her, "About the past?"

Emory shook her hand, beginning her descent. "Not that much. See ya!"

Silas heaved a sigh and looked down at himself. "Is it me?" He certainly didn't look as upstanding as he once was.

"Yep. Definitely. Wish you the best of luck, get well soon, yadda yadda," her voice echoed as she disappeared down the hill. He followed her.

"But I'm a living treasure trove of knowledge," he beckoned. "You could learn infinitely more from me than a pile of ruins."

"No, I like ruins. I don't like creepy guys who say they're from 1861," She corrected him, walking as fast as she could.

Silas sighed and licked his cracking lips. "I..." He looked down, clenching his hands. "I don't know what the world looks like anymore. I can speak on the past, but the present is a different beast."

She paused and sighed, touching her forehead. This had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done, but if by some miracle, he were telling the truth...that would be amazing.

That would be world-changing. Reality bending.

"Look, what do you want from me?" She asked him, somewhat exasperated.

He shrugged. "I need somewhere to freshen up. Take me somewhere I can wash, and shave. And cut this wretched hair. I do have..." he fished into pockets she didn't know he had, pulling out a dull coin.

"One gold," He smiled ruefully. "Meant to give the ferryman."

"Ferryman?" She inquired, taking it. It was old. Older than what she'd seen.

"To the underworld." he shrugged. "I suppose I'll have to give him something else."

"Right..." She trailed, pocketing the coin. She started walking and he followed after her. That coin alone was worth millions. She could put him up in a hotel room. Just for one night, at least.

"What were you in for?" She asked carefully, the absurdity of it baffling.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Crimes against the crown."

"Yeah but like...what crimes exactly,"

He shrugged. "Many and varied. It's hard to remember. Embellzment. Tax evasion." he said vaguely, waving his hand.

She raised her brow. "Come one now. White-collar crimes don't earn you three life sentences. What did you do?"

He swallowed roughly. "Murder. The life sentences were for murder,"

Emory shifted away from him. "And you were innocent?"

Silas clenched his jaw and looked away. "I don't know."

Emory stopped her face hot. "What do you mean? You don't know. Did you kill someone or not?"

He closed his eyes. "I do not know. That's why I wish to tell you everything I can remember. Because I also want to know.Whether I did it or not."

Emory swallowed but continued and so did he, walking along beside her. "What about you? Why are you still alive?"

Silas looked down at his hands smeared with dirt. "I don't know. The memories all blur together now. But I think it was the prison. Before it fell, there was another. John was his name. He'd consumption, a tortuous case. The doctor but three days. The judge gave 20 years. And he spent them. Dying. Coughing up more blood than should've been in his body. A wretched existence. But on the day of his release...he finally died."

Silas shook his head. "He was the only one who was sentenced when I was. The prison was abandoned, and me in it. I was the last person sentenced to Garrett prison."

Emory noted his solemn tone and nodded. She decided she'd do a search. If she could find him online, she'd have no choice to believe him. And if she couldn't, she'd know he was mostly likely a deranged lunatic either way she'd have to get him hot in the open first. Theh walked down the hill to Emory's parked car.

"What is this contraption?" He marveled. "It is so large."

Emory unlocked it. "It's a car. Get in."

He looked at it cautiously, but pulled on the handle following Emory's guide, slipping into it. "Is it some sort of horseless carriage? I'd heard they were attempting something like this, but this..."

Emory turned on it and he jumped. "Oh my," he frowned deeply. "What exactly is this carriage powered by?"

Emory shrugged. "An engine. It takes gas. Get in your seatbelt." Then she sighed and did it for him, wrinkling her nose. "Just...try not to sit all the way down and press dirt in my seats."

Silas was similarly afflicted by the existence of the car. "Are you quite sure this is safe?" He asked carefully.

Emory nodded. "Safer than taking a murderer to a hotel alone who says he's from the 1800's."

He shrugged. "Then not very safe at all, hm?"