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Mark awoke in his cell, the sunlight blinding him as he slowly opened his eyes. He began to tell himself it was all just a horrible dream. The men outside his window, the shadowed men grabbing him from his cell, the doctor downstairs, all of it. He slowly climbed down from his bunk and headed towards his sink to grab a cup of water. As he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror he almost collapsed with shock.   He had dried blood around his lips. As he tried to cry out his body was riddled with pain. Mark opened his mouth and leaned closer to the mirror. His tongue had been removed and looked like it had been burned to stop the bleeding. Mark didn't know what to do as the realization of having his tongue cut out sunk in. He sat on the lower bunk staring at the door wondering what was next, how was he going to escape this?   After a few minutes Mark's mind began wondering about something else, or rather someone else. His next door neighbor. If the doctor knew that Mark had told someone about what he had seen, what would happen to the person that he had told? He had to find out if the little old man was still next door somehow. He got off the bunk and leaned towards the air duct connecting the two cells.   Realizing that he couldn't call out for his friend, Mark looked around for some way to make some noise and get his attention. They weren't given any writing materials here, at least, not yet. But he did remember the contract saying that thier freedoms would be even more limited in exchange for a shorter sentence. Mark never signed anything without reading it all the way first, and then again for good measure. He quickly glanced around his cell for anything he could use.   Mark saw a loose nut on his bottom bunk sticking out ever so slightly. He set to work unfastening it as quickly as he could and returned to the air duct. He rattled it around the grates making a low echo of metal on metal. After a few raps against the duct he paused, waiting for a response. When there was only silence from the other end Mark began to worry.   He try to sign again, worry growing heavier on his mind. Mark didn't know what else to do to get his neighbors attention. Without thinking, he cocked his hand back and tossed the nut as far as he could. He lost sight of the nut after a moment, and then heard the clattering as it landed and rolled. What Mark heard after the nut had settled made his heart sink.   "Hey motherfucker!" came a deep voice from the other side, clearly not his Mexican friend.   "If I wanted to talk to anyone I would talk to my fucking self! Stop making noise over there or the first thing I'm doing when they let us out of this cell is shoving your hands up your ass and making you pull your own guts out!"   Mark sank back onto his bunk, not knowing if his friend had been moved to a new cell or worse. He knew what happened to him, and what could've happened to him. All he could think about now was that his friend was probably being tourtered right now. Mark laid down and covered his eyes, tears slowly forming and rolling down his cheeks. He knew now that this prison wasn't exactly what they thought it was, and that he probably wasn't going to make it out alive.

Part V   "Mr.Mayor! Mr.Mayor! Over here!"   It was Monday morning and Marge had sprung a press conference on him at the last minute. Of course he had heard of the alleged missing people from the new prison, although the reports he received stated those inmates served their time and had been released. The only logical conclusion would be that the inmates decided to take some time to themselves, that or they were hatching plans on new crimes. Either way every one was making a bigger deal of it than it needed to be. Today Mike would do his best to end the hysteria before it grew larger.   "Yes, you over there." Mike pointed to the reporter closest to him.   "Mr.Mayor, in the last month there has been over 60 inmates transferred to Evergreen Penitentiary that have been reported missing. What can you tell us about this?"   "Good question, and the answer may not be a simple one. You see, when inmates are released from this new prison they are given a clean slate and a fresh start on life. With the extra conditions upon release, these inmates are given less freedoms than they would receive in another prison system. These inmates are not necessarily missing, they may just be in hiding."   "How is that any better than missing?" this was followed by an uproar from the crowd.   "Now, now! That is not saying that one is better than the other. But what we are failing to over look is that these inmates were already on the list for good behavior at their former prisons. This was the reason they were selected for the new program. So if we were to adjust our mindset towards a way of thinking that these men have decided to change their ways, than there is nothing to worry about. These people will turn up, that I can assure you!"   "How are you going to make sure that these people are located?"   "We will be working all week locating relatives and friends of these men to see where they had last been located and search teams will be sent out across the state. Any leads can be called in to the local and state police departments, as well as the special tip line we will establish later this week."   The questions continued for another half hour before Marge finally called Mike away from the podium and towards the exit. As they returned to the office they noticed the a mob formed in front of the building. The driver pulled around back and Mike hurried his way inside before the group made their way around the back. The light was flashing on his phone in his office letting him know that he had messages waiting. Of course he did, why wouldn't he?   Since becoming the mayor, Mike hadn't had a single day of rest. And with the opening of Evergreen Penitentiary his phone hasn't stopped ringing. It seemed like the general public either didn't understand what the program was trying to do, or just wasn't in favor of it in general. Nobody wanted to see inmates released early, they wanted to see each and every one of them rot behind bars. At least, from the hundreds of letters and voicemails he received, that was the general consensus.    Sure, even he was apprehensive about the program at first. But after meeting with the director and creator of the program, he knew that this would be a monumental movement in the prison reform system. Hell, he may even revolutionize the way the entire world ran their prison systems. And that was just something he could not pass up. His name would go down in history as the world's first person to start it's first prison that would help repopulate the forest that had been taken by so many wild fires back in the twenties and thirties.   As the voicemails played, Mike blurred them out with a thought of the future. President Mike Pasco had a nice ring to it. And it would all begin here and now with Evergreen Penitentiary. He just had to follow through and stick to his guns, despite the mountains of hate mail he received on a daily basis. Something caught his attention at that moment though, something on the last voicemail.   He hit repeat at least three times before sitting back in his chair, taking a deep breath in and sighing heavily. Taking out a pad and pen he jotted down what the voicemail had said before pulling out his little black book. Thumbing through the pages, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. The voice on the other end stated they had been expecting his call and began to give Mike instructions. They ended the call abruptly after directing him to destroy the burner phone.   He lifted the office phone and ordered Marge to clear his afternoon and reschedule any appointments. Slowly Mike made his way towards each window, peering out before drawing each blind. He poured himself a drink from the private bar neatly hidden inside of his desk before turning on his computer. After a few minutes his office phone rang, three times before he reluctantly picked up the reciever. He began to scold Marge, but was interrupted by a raspy voice demanding his silence.   "We've been having too many calls Mr.Mayor. Make them stop or the money stops."   "But it's just..." Mike began before being stiffled once more.   "The investors do not care what it is, or what it takes to stop it. Just see to it that the problem. Goes. Away."   "Yes, sir."

Evergreen Penitentiary by Matthew Starr Part IV   Mark tried to scream but only mustered to get out a few grunts as the hands held his mouth open firmly. Clamps were placed on either side of his mouth to hold it open as a pump was turned on and a hose stuck into his mouth, resting against the base of his tongue beginning to suck out saliva with a loud slurping sound. He tried moving his head but the restraint on his forehead was firmly in place. The voice chuckled and goated him into trying to escape or scream for help. Slowly a tear formed in the corner of his eye before slowly rolling down his check and rolling towards his ear, tickling him slightly.    "You see Mark, I know you saw something out your cell window. What exactly you saw, I am not sure. But I also know you tried to tell your little Mexican friend, and we can not have you going around telling people your tall tales and getting the other inmates riled up."   Metal sliding against metal came from the left as the shadow man picked up an instrument from the table. Mark felt a clamp closing around the tip of his tongue before pulling it out of his mouth. It felt as though it was going to be pulled right out. However Mark was not so lucky. Another scraping sound came from the table as a chuckle came from the shadow man.   "Now, brace yourself Mark. This blade has not been sharpened in weeks and may be a bit dull. But you're a tough guy, right? You can get through this my boy!"   A moment later the blade touched Mark's tongue as a stinging sensation exploded in his mouth and shot through his entire body. His arms and legs jerked in a mad attempt to get the man to stop, but all he managed to do was rattle the chains that held him in place. Blood filled his mouth as the blade slowly sawed deeper into his tongue. The man wasn't making a sound but with each cut Mark could feel him smiling, pleased with his work. By the time the blade was almost done Mark had gone completely numb.   His face felt miles away, his neck was tingling and his body had stopped jerking. Mark felt one last cut needing to be made before the job was done, but the man did not continue to saw. Instead he stopped what he was doing and set the knife back on the table, still holding on to the tip of his tongue with the clamp. The man paused for a moment before reaching for another instrument. Mark couldn't see what it was that the man was holding, but saw his hand coming back towards his face slowly.   "It seems as though I may have been too hasty in my decision. I have made the cut too far out."   He felt a needle begin sliding into his tongue and Mark realized the man was sewing his tongue back together. The man took his time doing this and Mark could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks. This was the first time Mark heard a sound from the other two men who were holding him down. They began laughing, or at least what Mark thought was a laugh. Whatever the sound was, they were getting pleasure from watching the operation take place.   "There we go, good as new! Now, Mark, relax a little bit so I can make the correct measurements."   Mark began struggling once again. This time he ripped his head free and leaned up spitting out blood and yelling as loud as he could manage. The three men started laughing together and screaming in unison with Mark. Mocking cries for 'Help' surrounded him as more shadow figures appeared around the outer circle of the light. Slowly he stopped his cries and looked around the room, trying to make out a face.   His eyes were too blurry from the tears to see anything other than shadowy blurs. After a moment a hand shoved Mark's head back to the bed before he felt a needle slowly slide into his neck. A warm sensation filled his body as his feet began to go numb. The numbness slowly crawled up his body, taking over his legs before moving to his torso. As he felt his neck go warm, fuzzy, and then numb all together, he darted his eyes around trying to make out the Shadow Man.   "Don't worry Mark, you're just going to take a little nap. When you wake up this will all be over my boy."   Birds were chirping outside as he gazed out his cell window. He hadn't seen any since they arrived at Evergreen, but suddenly a large flock emerged from the trees and flew over the prison. The sun began shining brighter than he had ever seen in his life and the sky looked to be a more vivid blue than any painting. He sat back on his bunk watching the birds and imagining what it would be like to fly. He imagined all the places he could visit, all the sights he could see and all the adventures he could have.   The day room door clicked loudly from behind and pulling him back to reality. Jumping down from the top bunk and heading towards the door another loud bang from the day room jerked him into a run. Peering out the window he noticed two guards entering and heading towards a cell at the other end of the lower tier. James tried to get a better look at the cell, but the room was angled poorly. A moment later another inmate came bursting out of the room, sliding across the day room floor and pinned down by the two guards.   The man was yelling about something he saw outside his window, something about shadow men in the trees. James figured this guy slipped some drugs before they made the bus trip up here and was coming down now and seeing things. After all, he had just been watching the birds flying above the trees just before the guards entered and saw no sign of anybody by the trees or even out in the yard. The man continued to scream and struggle before the guards picked him up and threw him back in his cell. As the guards made their way towards the exit one seemed to make eye contact with James.   "Well, if you want some of me come on up here you piece of shit!" James yelled through the door.   The two guards stopped, both turning their gaze to James' cell window. The one who he yelled at just pointed to him and stared. After a moment the two turned and left the day room, slamming the door behind them as they went. James returned to his bunk and continued looking out into the sun, but the birds were all gone. He pressed his face to the window looking around for them.   "Where the fuck did they go?"   It was a few hours later before James heard another click coming from the day room. He rushed towards the door looking down to see what was going on now. It was the guards again coming back in towards the same cell as earlier. They both looked up at James and seemed to smile and nod towards him as if to say 'hello'. The two disappeared under the walkway but he could heard muffled shouts as the guards began roughing up the inmate, emerging a moment later with the inmate and leaving the day room and into the prison.   "What the hell was that all about?" James asked himself, still watching the day room door.   Several minutes passed before James decided to lie back down and try to get some sleep. He wasn't too sure what was going on but he could already tell he was not going to like this place very much. James kept reminding himself that his sentence is going to be reduced by being here though, and that put his mind right at ease. A few moments later and he found himself slowly falling into a slumber. As he fell off to sleep James heard the birds chirping again off in the distance.

Part III   Mark noticed an alter at the end of the path just before the gate. Although he could not see what was on this alter, he knew it was not there before his nightmare. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, but the alter did not move. He called to his neighbor through the wall, asking if he saw the alter too. After a few moments, and no response, Mark decided to sit as long as he could and watch that path.   Hours went by and not a single movement happened outside. No birds flying over head, not a single cloud in the sky, not even a blade of grass blowing in the wind. It was completely still outside. His gaze started to blur from staring. Mark's eyes began to sting as tears started to form at the corners of his eyes. He quickly wiped them away and returned his eyes to the pathway.   It was gone. The alter had vanished just like that. Mark darted his eyes up and down the path looking for the person who moved the alter. He knew what he just saw and knew someone had to have moved it. But he saw nobody. Not even a dust trail from someone moving it down the path.   Mark rubbed his eyes repeatedly for minutes trying to make himself believe he did not see the alter. But every time he closed his eyes he could see it again. Something was off about it though, there was something on it. He closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind's eye on the alter. Slowly it came in to sight, he could see what was sitting on the alter.   His cell door buzzed loudly and clicked open just as he could see the object perched on top of the alter. Quickly he sprang from his bunk but slowly made his way towards the door. Usually the guard would come in and open the door, so why didn't they do that here? As he approached the cracked door he could not hear footsteps coming towards him, yet he felt someone was getting close.   "Inmate, on the floor now!" came a low, raspy voice.   "Who said that?" Mark called out.   "Get on the goddamned floor, now!" replied the raspy voice, sounding even more angered.   He quickly glanced out the cracked door and saw nobody in the day room, but something strange happened. The door flew open and Mark found himself being forced to turn around before feeling a hand shove his head towards the ground. His hands where shoved above his head as his legs were spread apart. Mark found himself on his stomach but could still see his hands and feet. Although he had been restrained, Mark did not see any hands but felt a force upon his back.   He thought of struggling to see who, or what, was on his back holding him down but realized if this thing had him held down and restrained than he may not make it through the day. Reluctantly he relaxed and allowed his hands to be pulled behind his back and cuffed along with his ankles. The force slowly released from his back when the cuffing was complete. Mark was brought to his feet so quick that his chin snapped against his chest, nearly biting his tongue. Everything went black as a bag was slipped over his head before he was turned around and pushed through the cell door and across the day room floor.   "Where are you taking me?!" Mark screamed.   The voice that spoke was deep and low, almost demonic.   "You have seen something, and we need to make sure you don't tell anyone."   "What the fuck do you mean? Put me back in my cell!"   "You are in no position to make any demands."   Mark realized there was no escaping this and continued walking. They continued down a long hallway that felt very narrow. After what seemed like an hour they entered an elevator. He assumed they were going to be heading up since the prison was two stories tall, but instead the elevator started moving downward. The elevator traveled downward for a few minutes before slowly coming to a halt.   The doors whooshed open and Mark was shoved forward. They walked down another hall, although the floor felt different down here, not concrete like upstairs. And it wasn't tile either, it was soft and felt like it was clinging to the bottom of his shoes. He could feel the end of the hallway approaching and heard a door in front of him slowly sliding open.He tripped as the entered another room, the door closing behind them and the bag taken from his head.   Slowly his eyes came in to focus and what he saw before him nearly made him faint. The room was completely white, excluding a small puddle of red in the middle of the floor by the table lined with straps. Mark was pushed towards this table and attempted for the first time to refuse. Quickly he realized that it was not a smart idea afterall. A sharp blow to the back of the head was followed by a stern warning the not resist.   It was not the table that was making Mark try to fight back, but the surgical objects that rested close by the table that frightened him. He could smell the bleach from someone attempting to clean up after the last victim. He was pushed against the table before being forced on to it, flipped over and strapped down. A bright light was rolled above his head, blinding him from the face that slowly bent over him. The voice began speaking to him again as shadowy hands appeared on either side of him.   "I know you saw my men last night, and I know you tried to tell your little Mexican friend about them."   "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about asshole."   "That's it, Mark. Get it out of your system while you can."   "What does that mean?"   "Well, we can't keep you too long or the other inmates will get suspicious. So, before I begin, is there anything else you would like to say?"   "I don't know what the fuck you're doing here, but I'm going to stop you."   "You're a real hero, aren't you? Well, what if I told you we were making the world a better place?"   "So that's why you drug me out of my cell and brought me all the way down here?"   "Soon you will find out what you wish to know, but for now," the face reached over as the hands grabbed his mouth "for now we need to make sure you won't tell anyone else what you saw."  

Part II   The air was dark, damp and heavy as Mark picked his head up from his pillow to look out his cell window. A light breeze blew small wisps of dirt across the long path he saw as the bus pulled in. Shadows danced across the faces of four men from torches leading the way towards the gates that seperated the prison from the forest. As they made their way further down the path Mark could see something being drug in between the four men. After a moment he realized that they were dragging someone down the path.   The man was kicking his feet and struggling to break free. Mark couldn't hear what the man was yelling, but he could see the man's head lifting towards the sky, mouth moving quickly as though gnashing at the air. The four guards carrying the man seemed unphased by all of it, keeping their gaze focused on the gate at the end of the path. As they neared the end of the dirt path Mark watched the gate slowly begin to open, as if by itself. The men exited the gate and began towards the forest, still dragging the man behind them. Mark ducked quickly as all four men stopped and turned their gaze on his cell window.   His chest grew tight as he wondered if they had spotted him, or if someone else had been looking out of their windows at the exact same time. Mark pressed himself up against the concrete wall as best as he could and waited. He slowly counted out loud, and when he reached sixty turned to face the wall. As his eyes reached the bottom of his window he looked around quickly and saw nothing but moonlit grass shimmering with dew. Mark took a deep breath and stuck his head up further to get a better look.   As if on que, the four men popped up to meet Mark's gaze as his shoulders reached the short ledge. He fell backwards off of his bunk and scrambled towards his cell door. The four men each took a corner of the window and pulled it from the wall. Mark screamed in horror as they each took turns climbing in through the new hole. As they slowly crept closer to him Mark kicked out in panic, not knowing what they had intended on doing.   As the men reached out to grab him Mark covered his eyes and let out one last scream for help. He could feel one of them wrapping his fingers around Mark's arm when the door buzzed. Falling onto the floor in the day room Mark scrambled backwards out of his cell, still screaming. Guards came rushing in, yelling at him to get face down on the ground. As he complied with the officers Mark looked towards his cell and immediately fell silent.   "What the fuck is your problem you piece of shit?!"   "They were in my..." Mark was cut short as a knee dove downwards into his back, knocking the wind and words out of him.   "Check his cell, make sure this little asshole didn't sneak any drugs inside."   The other guards tore his room apart as he lay there staring at the window. Nothing was wrong with it, and the darkness had gone away. The sun was shining brighly as a cone of light shone through his cell door and into the day room. He glanced around to see the other inmates peering out of their cell doors and in the cell next to him he noticed a familiar face; the old mexican man he was sitting by on the bus. The old man was looking right at Mark and mouthing something to him.   Mark tried hard to make out what the old man was mouthing to him but couldn't. Before he could figure out what he was trying to tell him, the guards came out of Mark's cell. The guard pinning him with his knee pulled Mark quickly to his feet and shoved him forward tiwards the entrance of his room. Reluctantly Mark stepped back inside, glancing around for any sign the shadow men could've left behind. Looking up at the window Mark started to tell himself it was just a dream, nothing more.   "You pull any more shit like that and your ass is going to the hole!"   "Sorry boss, was having a nightmare."   "You were screaming in there for two fucking hours. If you're hiding drugs in there, we will find them motherfucker."   "I'm not in here for drugs asshole."   The guard didn't hesitate for a second. His fist reached back and struck Mark hard enough to knock him back onto his bunk. The guard rushed Mark, pinning him to his bed before unleashing several more blows to the side of his head. He could feel blood starting to trickle from his nose as the guard got off him to exit the room. As he got to the door, he turned back to Mark.   "Watch who you're calling an asshole. Next time you might not be so lucky."   With that the cell door slammed shut, echoing throughout the entire day room. The guards yelled a warning to the rest of the pod before leaving. Mark checked himself in the mirror, head throbbing from the beating and blood dripping into his mouth. He washed up as best as he could before returning to his bunk. As he sat down he heard a low hissing sound coming from the air vent.   Confused and curious, Mark stood and inched closer to the sound. As he neared the vent the sound became less of a hiss. He knocked on the vent three times and waited, the hissing sound ceased as soon as the third knocked rang out. A moment later Mark could hear a soft, but familiar, voice coming from the other side. It was the old man in the cell next to him   "Amigo, you okay?"   "I'm not even sure if I'm awake my friend."   "Si, you are awake Gringo. And the guard no lie. You screaming for hours."   "I don't remember anything after we got here."   "You go to sleep, and then start yelling about shadow men."   "Yeah man, I was having a crazy ass dream. I don't...I don't know what was going on, all I know is I hope it wasn't a warning. I don't know if we should've signed up for this prison."   Mark was answered with silence from the old man. After a moment he decided to sit back down on his bunk, head still throbbing. He looked out the window again, looking down in front of his cell to see if there was any sign of the men left behind. Seeing nothing he turned his gaze towards the dirt path that led to the forest. As he got to the end of the path he noticed something by the gate that he did

Part I   The air seemed to stand still as Mark opened his eyes. Today was moving day, and it seemed to come quicker than he had expected. He knew where he was moving to, but was not sure how long the bus ride would be. Mark had been alone for so long he was looking forward to a long bus ride with some people to talk to. As he started to climb off his bunk he heard footsteps approaching, followed by the loud buzzing before the day room door slammed open.   "Roll 'em up shit heads! Moving day is here!"   The whole country had initiated a new prison plan which would allow select prisons to offer it's inmates the option of moving to a new prison and a reduced sentence. Not a single inmate had turned down the offer, any way to reach freedom quicker was worth the move. Little was known about the new prison other than the name: Evergreen Penitentiary. Inmates speculated that it had to be in Washington because of the name, but others were spreading rumors of something darker.   Stories were circulating that Evergreen Penitentiary was a cover for a top secret government compound where they had been doing expierements on prisoners. Others said there was no prison, they were being taken to the desert to be shot and burried. Some even said they were using prisoners as beacons to communicate with aliens on other planets. Of course Mark knew these were not true which is why he was looking forward to the move more than anyone.   It didn't take him long to pack up his belongings and stand by his door, letting the guards know he was ready to cuff up. One by one the inmates were cuffed and then shackled to each other. It seemed like hours had passed before they were seated on the bus, and only minutes before they were driving out of the gates and headed towards their new home. They had been behind concrete walls for so long Mark had almost forgotten what the outside world looked like. The grass seemed greener, the sky more blue and the clouds looked like actual floating cotton balls.   Some guys a few seats in front of Mark cracked a window and he could smell the air. Circulated air within the prison walls has a musky, salty smell. The air that hit Mark's face was fresh, sweet and calming. For a few moments Mark forgot he was in shackles, but that feeling rushed back quickly as he felt his hands being tugged to his right. Mark's eyes shot open as he quickly turned his head towards the person pulling on his hands. It was an older Mexican man, looking like he was near death Mark knew he was in no danger. The man was just attempting to scratch an itch on his leg and had no choice but to pull Mark's hands with him slightly.   "Sorry, Amigo. Had to scratch."   "You're all good boss. Do you know where we are going?" Mark decided if they had to be shackled together there was no reason they had to ride in silence.   "Si. I do."   "Well, what have you heard of this place?"   "I have heard many things, Amigo. Some scary, some not so scary. But all are just tales. We will see for ourselves when we get there."   "You do have a point, they are all stories. So, what's your story?"   "I have heard the prison is surrounded by an enormous forest, one that grows every time the prison gets new inmates. I have heard that at night you can hear screams coming from the forest. Some say the screams are prisoners being tortured in the forest. Others say the screams are coming from the trees themselves."   Mark sat there listening and starting to think that maybe they should have just sat in silence. The old man had started to wonder off in his thoughts and began telling tales of his home town in Mexico. His accecnt got stronger as he continued to ramble and soon became too jumbled for Mark to make out everything he was saying. Luckily the old man decided to lay his head back, telling Mark he planned on sleeping for the rest of the ride. Soon his own head slumped against the window as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep.   Mark awoke to his head bumping against the window with a dull thud. Slowly he opened his eyes and began to focus on his new surroundings. They had finally arrived at Evergreen Penitentiary and it lived up to its name. The bus had entered the first set of gates and was now traveling down a long, narrow road lined with large evergreen trees. Deeper in the forest you could see newer trees growing, looking to be just under a year old. After what seemed like hours the bus finally pulled into an opening and ahead of them was their new home.   Evergreen Penitentiary was 4 stories tall with a large yard surrounding it. Three sections of fence seperated the prison from the forest itself, but as Mark's eyes focused more he noticed something odd. At the far end of the entrance there was a walkway going from the building towards the forest. A dirt road led the way through the walkway and it appeared to have light posts every few feet. Mark started to think about what the old man had told him and wondered how much truth the story held.   The bus slowed as the driver approaced the last gate. Mark noticed the driver was looking back at them in the mirror. As their eyes met the driver smiled and mouth something. He wasn't too great at reading lips, especially from sitting in the back of the bus, but it looked like he said "There's no going back now." He tried to shrug it off and act like he didn't see him but as they were getting off the bus Mark made eye contact once more.   "You're not going to make it out of here." the driver whispered.   Mark just looked at him with shock. Did the driver just threaten him, or was he trying to warn him? He had no time to question the driver as he was pulled from the bus and led inside with the rest of the inmates. The prison seemed rather quite when they entered. It was three in the afternoon and usually the inmates would be in the day rooms or out in the rec yard, but this place was a complete ghost town.   An inmate a few people ahead of Mark asked the transporting officers where the rest of the inmates were. He was met with a sharp look and silence. Mark began to wonder just what he got himself in to as they were ushered into individual cells. The rooms where already funished with mats, sheets and even a pillow. The walls looked like they had just been built the day before and graffiti free. The doors slammed close one by one as Mark settled into his new bunk for a little nap.

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