Caught

Slaney lay there, flat on his back, chest hammering, looking at the stars. It was as far as he had been from the Springfield penitentiary since the doors of that institution admitted him four years before. It was not far enough. He heaved himself off the ground and started running. It's June 1978 an [...]
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Slaney lay there, flat on his back, chest hammering, looking at the stars. It was as far as he had been from the Springfield penitentiary since the doors of that institution admitted him four years before. It was not far enough. He heaved himself off the ground and started running. It's June 1978 and David Slaney can be sure of only one thing.