Sam and Colby: The Penitentiary

41

Jake and Corey had been right about every single play. After I'd made a decent earning from one table, I'd move to another before any of the guys got too mad or suspicious.

                The prisoners traded some stuff I'd never expect, but they were all pretty genius ideas. There were combination locks to put into socks that could be used as weapons, pocket knives, coffee powder to mix with hot water since we didn't get any sort of caffeine, cigarettes of course, extra stamps to send out more letters to loved ones, bottles of different alcohols, lighters, tape, matches, drug-store grade painkillers, prescription painkillers, coke—not the soda—, extra bottles of soap, rope, extra pairs of socks, new toothbrushes, pens and pencils, flashlights, batteries, empty journals, and books.

                Each time I switched tables, I'd drop off my winnings at the tables the trap and Center guys were sitting at so no one realized how much I was accumulating. I'd come to each table with only two packs of cigs and leave with at least double the amount of items. By the time the game was over, the amount of stuff that I'd dropped off between tables was enough for each member of the center and Traphouse to have been betting at a normal rate like the other guys.

                Before Jinx turned the lights back on, me and the trap guys along with Blaze all quickly stuffed as much stuff as we could into our clothes, my ponytail, my sports bra, and our socks. Blaze had managed to sneak in some bras and underwear for me.

                He was also sweet enough to ask if I needed any tampons, but I had an IUD so thankfully I didn't have to deal with any of that.

                "Final count is in five. Go to your cells right now. If I don't see any contraband, then I won't take any. Go," Jinx yelled. Everyone quickly verified that none of their winnings were in sight before hurrying off to go stand in front of their cells. Waco made the count quick and we were all locked in our cells less than twenty minutes later.

Colby and I quietly dumped all of my earnings out onto his bed.

"Damn, babe," he whispered.

"I know. Corey and Jake really know their stuff," I replied.

"Yeah, but you really knew how to play the system," he said. I shrugged.

"It's easy when you're underestimated," I said.

"You'd think they wouldn't want to bet with you considering you're in here for money laundering," Colby pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is football. Why would little old me know anything about it?" I asked, jokingly batting my eyelashes.

"God, do I love you," he said.

"Love you too," I replied.

We'd ended up with at least one of everything that was circulating. I'd even managed to get a few flashlights for us. With Blaze stashing stuff on the outside and me raking stuff in on the inside, we'd be set in a few weeks. We just needed to make sure our plan was in the clear and there was enough food and water out there to last all of us for a little while.

We also decided to stockpile double what we needed on the outside. In case one of our stashes was found, we'd have some backup resources. Blaze had even managed to get some cash slipped in there, along with some different clothes so we wouldn't be running around in our prison uniforms.

He really hated how much extra stuff I said we needed, but he couldn't disagree with the thoroughness that I had added to this plan. Ray, of course, had no knowledge of these stockpiles. Once we were out, we were done with him. If he followed us to wherever we decided to go, we would just have to... god, I don't know. Break his leg or some shit. Whatever. We'd figure that out when or if that even happened.

"You know, it's weird that someone as mean and strict as Jinx let us trade like that," Colby said.

"Dude got twenty cigarettes out of it," I shrugged.

In the morning, I learned that Colby was very much correct. We were woken up by the now familiar loud buzzing noise, but our cell doors didn't open.

"No count. Stay in your cells!" Jinx yelled from downstairs.

"Ah, shit," I heard the guy in the cell next to us whisper.

"What's going on?" his cellmate asked in a sleepy voice.

"They're doing a search. They know we got a bunch of shit last night so they're going to come in and keep it for themselves. Good thing you can't win for shit, right? They usually keep tabs of who's carrying around a lot of stuff by the end," the guy said to his cellmate. Colby and I looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Fuck," I whispered. We'd shoved everything into different hiding spaces. Stuck stuff under each of the mattresses, tucked things inside of and behind the books they'd let us keep on the single shelf in our cell, used the tape to stick things under the toilet seat and the bottom of the shelf, stuck things in our pillowcases, even left some stuff in my bra and our socks, and I still had two dime bags of coke stuffed into my hair that was now put up into a messy bun.

They were all good hiding spots, but when there's that much stuff, it's easier to find. Sam and Jake also had that much stuff. Blaze and Corey only took a small amount so their cellmates would think they'd just earned it from normal gambling.

Downstairs, I heard Jinx start to call out different numbers.

"Cell 109, 126, and 132!" he yelled. I heard three loud clanks, the sound of the cells opening. Jinx wax blatantly targeting specific cells, only opening certain ones.

"Oh no," Colby whispered.

"Huh? What?" I asked.

"Corey's in cell 109," he said quietly.

"Oh no," I said, repeating Colby.