Duke kept one sweaty hand pressed into her back, her face and chest smashed into the shelves. Through the ringing in her ears she heard him unzipping his zipper, undoing his belt, and pulling his pants down. He was panting. He was groaning. He said, his breath hot and putrid on her neck, “And now you’re going to get what you’ve been wanting, Betsy. Begging for.” He put his hand around her neck. “If you make a sound, I will snap your neck.”

For a second, she didn’t move, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, her head splitting, but then he moved his hand to take down her underwear, and suddenly she could breathe again.

She was disgusted. She was sick with fear. She was about to be raped by a repulsive, gross, violent man. All of her fury over losing Rose and Johnny, being constantly watched and harassed by Duke, being locked up, it all roared out. It roared out through the fog of depression that she lived in behind the cold, scary bars. It rose from the deepest part of her soul, this animalistic, teeth-baring, rollicking rage.

Betsy, her orange prison pants down around her ankles, a raw scream emanating from her throat, picked up a container of cleaning powder and swung it at Duke’s head with both hands, as hard as she could. The container bashed his cheek, and cleaning powder sprayed his face, burning his eyes. He let out a guttural yell of outrage and swore from the pain, temporarily blinded.

She then picked up a broom and rammed the handle right into his naked groin. He yelled and bent over, breathless. She yanked up her pants and kicked him as hard as she could in the head with another scream of fury, and he went down, stumbling to the floor, his eyes squeezed shut against the stinging powder, one hand on his balls. For good measure, she kicked him in his huge gut, which blew his air straight out, his face red and strained.

She bent over his writhing form and told him about the premonition she’d had. “You’re going to hit a deer, Duke. It’s going to come straight through the window of your truck. Your truck will hit a tree. You will never walk again.”

Duke felt a cold rush of fear flood his insides. He wanted to kick her, shut her up, hold her down and finish the plan, but he couldn’t move. She kicked him in the head again and screamed as she opened the door to the supply closet.

Guards rushed in, hearing the screams.