The hangman’s noose swung gently in the hot breeze before Alister Preevy’s very eyes, it was just his luck that his men should find the opportunity to break out just as he was about to be executed, but he wasn’t hanging yet, and his men were still inside.
A marksman had taken over the warden’s office in the tower – he couldn’t imagine who they were or how they got up there – and now they systematically eliminated the sentinels around the main wall, and apparently any other guard who was caught out in the open. Alister understood. This wasn’t a riot but an escape plan.
The sound of automatic rifle crackled over the slope as well as all throughout the prison. The executioner and his assistant anxiously paced towards it but then stopped, the assistant’s hand hovered over his sidearm as he spoke to the executioner. “The prisoners are rioting. What do we do?”
“Shut up,” the executioner snapped. “The rebels in those cages are a hundred times more dangerous under the command of the likes of him.” He kicked Alister to the ground, but the old general was too used to being punched around by now; he barely felt it. The executioner seized him by the collar and dragged him up to the platform, forcing him to stand while the noose slipped over his ragged hair and under his chin.
“Reinforcements will come. They might have had a chance with him leading the way. Without him, they’ll all die.”
Alister wasn’t too alarmed by this predicament; he was going to die anyway but he would have liked the rope to be a little longer. At that height, the fall probably wouldn’t break his neck. He would dangle with his legs kicking and twitching.
“I think I’ve earned an honourable death,” he told his killers.
The executioner grabbed the lever that would open the hatch beneath Allister’s feet. “You’ve earned nothing.”
The hatch opened and Alister fell until the rope tightened around his neck, crushing his windpipe as he clawed hopelessly to remove it. It was a feeling of pure agony, with every failed attempt to take a breath the life seeped out of him, his vision faded and in his final desperate moments he pondered every decision he had made in his life and if it all was worth it, if anything would be different had he only been stronger and smarter, and what he would do if he had a second chance. But it was pointless.
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