American Criminal Read Online Free Page A

I’m being cleansed.
        Burnside shut his eyes and thought about the pure white surface above him. He heard a loud mechanical humming as the machine went into operation. He relaxed as he imagined all the negativity of the past few months dissipating.
         Maybe this is all a nightmare and I’ll wake up to find myself in my former life; going to work, living with my girlfriend, going out with friends, following the rules.
        Burnside let the white wash over him, cleaning away all the anger, aggression and negativity in his system. He imagined he was metamorphosing into a being of pure spirit that could not be influenced, hurt, or coerced by any physical thing in the environment. For the first time in months, he felt safe and free.
        Drifting. Floating.
        Burnside enjoyed the feeling of freedom from the flesh while he listened to the loud humming of the machine that drowned out any background noise. After a while, the humming stopped and the panel began moving again. He opened his eyes and saw himself traveling down the pristine white tunnel toward the gateway to reality. It was not a place he wanted to go. A sudden terror seized his mind.
        They’re going to send me back to jail with the most violent and debauched human beings in society.
        In the machine, he was free. Out there, people would continue to abuse him with their accusations, punishments, and persecutions. A seething rage boiled in his mind as he thought about leaving the purity of the machine to return to a cynical, dangerous world. Burnside felt all his muscles tense as he remembered the drab gray walls and black iron bars of the jail he had been held at for the last four months.
        They're not going to drag me back to that hell for something I didn't do.
        Burnside looked up to see the two officers standing above him like scientists observing an unstable laboratory experiment.
        “Okay, pal, we need you to sit up,” the younger officer instructed as he grabbed Burnside’s left shoulder.
        The officer’s touch inspired movement far beyond any that he might have anticipated. Burnside’s upper torso shot upward as if he had been filled with a thousand volts of electricity. His fists shot out with the momentum of his body, striking the younger officer in the forehead. Burnside’s cuffed fists smashed into the officer’s skull with a sickening thud. The officer’s eyes rolled up in his head as he slumped to the floor. The older officer stood frozen in a state of shock. When he finally recovered his wits, his instinct was to move away from the prisoner, rather than make any attempt to restrain him.
        The light of sanity drained momentarily from Burnside’s eyes. His face contorted into a spasm of animal rage as he glared at the panic-stricken officer. He tracked the officer’s movement like a predator stalking its next meal.
        Burnside slid smoothly off the panel, scanned the room, and realized the female tech had fled. He took a long stride forward and suddenly realized his feet were shackled only inches apart. The ties on the ankle restraints tightened before he could move his legs, plunging him toward the floor. Burnside’s adrenaline-heightened reflexes kicked in and he thrust his arms in front of him. His hands smacked against the floor and he pushed hard. He did an improvised push-up and moved to a squatting position.
        Burnside saw the officer fumbling for his gun. He thrust out with his arms and pushed upward with his legs, lunging like an uncoiling spring. His cuffed hands slammed into the cop’s neck. The momentum sent the officer reeling backwards as the gun flew from his hand. The cop tried to regain his balance, but toppled hard and hit the floor with a thud. Burnside fell on the officer, pinning him with the weight of his body. He pressed the plastic restraint into the soft, yielding skin of the cop’s neck. The officer choked and gagged as he fought for