Buried Biker Read Online Free PDF Page B

violation and they decide to go ahead with it, I’ll be on the Thursday night bus to the diagnostics center,” I said. “Then on to wherever they’re holding parole violators waiting for a hearing. But if I pick up new charges, they’ll hold me here while they take care of them.”
    “You’ll have a bail hearing and probably get sprung.”
    I laughed. “Hearing, maybe. That’s standard procedure. Ain’t no bail gonna get set. And even if they did set it, ain’t nobody gonna come up with it.”
    Stirring slightly, he said, “Don’t you know nobody who’ll go your bail?”
    “Nope. And if someone did come up with the ten percent, no bail bondsman in his right mind would take it.”
    He sat up but didn’t look at me. “Didn’t nobody go mine, either.”
    “At least you got it set. How much is it?”
    “Five thousand.”
    “That means, even if a bail bondsman’ll take it, somebody’s got to come up with five hundred dollars. That’s a fair amount.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. And then they don’t get back all of it, either. Bail bondsman keeps ten percent of that. Fifty dollars. You know somebody’s got that kind of money just lying around and can afford to take the fifty dollar hit when it’s returned? Especially on a weekend?”
    He paused thoughtfully. “Not really.”
    “Besides, if you think you’re gonna pick up some time anyhow, you might as well get a start on it.”
    “Huh?”
    “Look, they always give you credit on your sentence for time served. And if you’re only looking at a short bit—a year or so—and you been locked up for a while, the sentencing judge sometimes just says ‘time served’ and cuts you loose. That can be less time than if you’d been out on bail the whole time. And you’re done .”
    “A whole year? That’s not a short bit.”
    I laughed again. “Well, it’s certainly not long. You wouldn’t even get sent up state for that, just serve it here in the county lockup.”
    “Up state?”
    “You know. Prison.”
    He shivered. “Prison.”
    Was he going to start repeating everything I said?
    He shook his head. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. Just that my mom was letting me rot in here.”
    “You got a ways to go before you rot. Meanwhile, you want your breakfast?”
    “Nah. You can have it.”
    I took his tray. “You got to eat sometime ,” I said. But maybe not right now. I stuffed his eggs and toast into my mouth and downed his juice and milk before he could change his mind. “Thanks.”
    He threw his blanket back and eased off his bunk, stepping up to the all-in-one steel plumbing fixture. Although he was bigger than me, he really was just a kid, and he’d slept in his jumpsuit.
    Sitting on the edge of his bunk, he raked his hair forward over his face with his fingers but I could see he was all bruised up and swollen.
    “What the hell happened to you?” I asked.
    “Got in a fight,” he said.
    “Here in the jail?”
    “Yeah.”
    That explained why he was in K-pod. “How’d the other guy make out?”
    He took a deep breath. “ Three other guys. I don’t know what happened to them.”
    “You give as good as you get on the fight?”
    “Huh?”
    I sighed. “This the first time you been locked up?”
    “Yeah.” He sat up a little straighter.
    “Well, sometimes you got to fight. Usually it don’t do no good. So I try to mostly keep out of it. But if you do get caught up in a scrape, make sure you give a good account of yourself and do some damage. Then people will think twice about starting with you next time.”
    He looked confused. “The guards broke it up. Pepper spray. That stuff really burns.”
    I nodded. “Good to know. Some places, they just let you fight it out and write up the reports afterwards. And send you for medical attention if you need it.”
    Looking at my face, he said, “What happened to you ? A fight?”
    “Nah. I got a little upset when the cops were questioning me, so they got a little rough.”
    “A cop did