From: brennerlashawna@gmail.com   
      
   Prologue   
      
   Fort Oswald, Texas. An early summer storm roils the sky. Lightning crackles   
   between fat thunderheads. They lurch over the flat plain, roly-poly   
   gun-metal-gray giants, thousands of feet tall, occasionally spitting thin   
   streams of dazzling light at the    
   ground.   
      
   Abutting the vast air base's southern boundary is a brand-new maximum security   
   prison, one of thousands that dot the Lone Star landscape, as familiar a sight   
   as forests of oil rigs once were, back in the bad old days before God returned   
   to America.   
      
   The prison is a sprawling complex covering dozens of acres. It consists of   
   identical rectangular compounds, each formed by three rows of ti   
   anium-reinforced twenty-foot chain-link fence, topped with dense rolls of   
   razor wire. The gap between each row is    
   packed with more razor wire. The wire bristles with countless thousands of   
   tiny blades. When lightning flashes overhead, they flash too.   
      
   The prison's full name is the Risen Lamb Correctional Facility. Its directors   
   call it a Christian prison, one that respects the retributive power of Church   
   and State: the right of the judiciary to exact punishment, the right of the   
   Lord to vengeance. The    
   men and women incarcerated here aren't "inmates" or "prisoners" but "sinners."   
   Those convicted of capital crimes are called "cardinal sinners." But the God   
   of vengeance is also the God of forgiveness. This prison differs from all   
   others in the fervent    
   efforts that are made to help cardinal sinners repent before they're   
   terminated; to be born again before they die.   
      
   At the center of the complex is its spiritual heart: a circular two-story   
   rotunda containing ten lethal-injection chambers. No other facility in the   
   world has such multiple capability. If necessary, ten cardinal sinners can be   
   terminated simultaneously.   
      
   From the center of the rotunda rises a colossal 150-foot rotating crucifix:   
   one full rotation every sixty seconds. Front and back, the arms of the cross   
   bear a scrolling LED readout. On one side the legend reads christ died for   
   your sins! When the    
   opposite side comes around, it reads now it's your turn!   
      
   It's been an auspicious morning for the new facility. At noon it executed its   
   very first cardinal sinner, a young non-Caucasian male, and for an unusual   
   crime: treason. Every effort was made to bring him to the Lord before he went   
   to the execution    
   chamber. Alas, he was unrepentant.   
      
   Owing to the inexperience of the staff, he underwent considerable trauma: The   
   lethal drugs took some time to effectuate termination.   
      
   But all is well. At 12:45 p.m. he was declared dead and his remains were   
   cremated. The ashes will be placed in a simple container and, before   
   nightfall, delivered to his mother.   
      
   The years haven't softened the image of him, lying dead on the gurney. The   
   memory is as raw as the long bloody gashes the IVs had opened in his arms.   
   Each time I see him there, the pain still roils me, as the storm did the sky.   
      
   I put him on that gurney. I was his Judas.   
      
      
   Copyright  2006 by Tony Hendra. All rights reserved.   
      
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