Life After Prison (Adam)

Out of one prison and into another. Adam smiled regardless. He was the Messiah. He was working with the common man, even though these common men were butchers and murderers. Some of the worst, the ones that society had collectively decreed would be locked up. He was their Savior. He was their Messiah, soon he would be the Messiah for all the people. He wiped some sweat off his brow. It was cold down here. And dark. Wet. Humid. It smelled. There were crawlies everywhere. He guessed this was the price to pay to be a Messiah in this day and age. He was still thankful. His army not so much so.

When they had gotten out, busted out, everyone had been in good spirits and high fiving one another. Smiles, cackles, gleeful laughs. That prison had been gloomy, and even though they were still under the shadow of it, even though they were just a few steps outside, it felt much more different. Prisoners and guards alike. Hands on each others shoulders, walking as one unit. They had shared that place together.

A cockroach scuttled in the corridor. The dim light cast a glow on it’s back. It stood still for a second, only the antenna twitching, then scuttled out of sight into a hole in the wall. They kept on digging. Some of the men exchanging jokes. Most quiet, sneaking furtive glances at him, a little angry. A little glum. He could feel it. It was not just this place. It was also them. They were resentful of him. They were resentful that they had been taken from one prison and locked into another. So far he had kept them together.

He looked up, imagining he could see past all the walls of concrete. Imagining that he could see the world above. The air, bad as it was, was probably still better than what they had here. Why had they forsaken him, Adam wondered. He knew the answer. And also knew that he was wrong. They had not forsaken him. They had explained to him that they needed him and the army to be invisible for a little bit longer. Their plans were taking a while. The woman had come and explained it to him. He had barely focused, distracted by her olive skin, distracted by her eyes, beautiful. He had shook his head and listened to her, tried to focus, just as he was shaking his head now, trying to focus on the words, not the memory of her. He wondered if that was why they had sent her to talk to him.

But they wanted him to wait, and wait he would. He would be the Messiah for the world. He just needed them for a little while longer. Just like they needed him. Or did they?

He put his head down and kept working. He could feel the stares on his back. He needed to inspire them again, make his people work together, they had been his people once, now they were grim and glum. He needed to be their leader. He would be.

He put his head down and kept working. Water dripped from the ceilings onto smelly puddles on the ground. The dim corridor was dark and menacing.