At least Russell can hope for a better tomorrow, since a guy doing life can always try another break. Me, they’re going to finish off in the morning. They wouldn’t have to bother if they had simply let me die. They say I took seven bullets, including one to the head and one in the spine, but I remember being hit only once. The rifles were firing and firing and I saw Fat Charley’s grin burst in blood and the next thing I knew I was lying on my face and couldn’t move. I could feel the life draining out of me, and I knew another minute would be all she wrote. But they hustled me into the hospital and the doctors outdid themselves. So. Here I am, half-crippled and my head still feels like it’s got a rail spike in it. But they did it. They saved me for the executioner. When I awoke from the surgery, the warden was in the room, glaring at me with a kind of furious satisfaction. He said Thought you could cheat the chair, didn’t you, Pierpont? Well, I’m here to tell you, mister, you’re gonna burn—and keep on burning for all eternity.
