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Cold
night
air
,
moving
with
the
ridge-running
wind
we
would
now
get
most
of
the
time
until
March
or
April
,
blew
down
into
our
faces
.
A
swirl
of
dead
leaves
came
with
it
,
and
John
Coffey
caught
one
of
them
with
his
free
hand
.
I
will
never
forget
the
way
he
looked
at
it
,
or
how
he
crumpled
it
beneath
his
broad
,
handsome
nose
so
it
would
release
its
smell
.
"
Come
on
,
"
Brutal
said
.
"
Let
's
go
,
forward
harch
.
"
We
climbed
out
.
John
lowered
the
bulkhead
and
Brutal
locked
it
--
no
need
for
the
Aladdin
key
on
this
door
,
but
it
was
needed
to
unlock
the
gate
in
the
pole-and-wire
cage
which
surrounded
the
bulkhead
.
"
Hands
to
your
sides
while
you
go
through
,
big
fella
,
"
Harry
murmured
.
"
Do
n't
touch
the
wire
,
if
you
do
n't
want
a
nasty
bum
.
"
Then
we
were
clear
,
standing
on
the
shoulder
of
the
road
in
a
little
cluster
(
three
foothills
around
a
mountain
is
what
I
imagine
we
looked
like
)
,
staring
across
at
the
walls
and
lights
and
guard-towers
of
Cold
Mountain
Penitentiary
.
I
could
actually
see
the
vague
shape
of
a
guard
inside
one
of
those
towers
,
blowing
on
his
hands
,
but
only
for
a
moment
;
the
road-facing
windows
in
the
towers
were
small
and
unimportant
.
Still
,
we
would
have
to
be
very
,
very
quiet
.
And
if
a
car
did
come
along
now
,
we
could
be
in
deep
trouble
.
"
Come
on
,
"
I
whispered
.
"
Lead
the
way
,
Harry
.
"
We
slunk
north
along
the
highway
in
a
little
congaline
,
Harry
first
,
then
John
Coffey
,
then
Brutal
,
then
me
.
We
breasted
the
first
rise
and
walked
down
the
other
side
,
where
all
we
could
see
of
the
prison
was
the
bright
glow
of
the
lights
in
the
tops
of
the
trees
.
And
still
Harry
led
us
onward
.
"
Where
'd
you
park
it
?
"
Brutal
stage-whispered
,
vapor
puffing
from
his
mouth
in
a
white
cloud
.
"
Baltimore
?
"
"
It
's
right
up
ahead
,
"
Harry
replied
,
sounding
nervous
and
irritable
.
"
Hold
your
damn
water
,
Brutus
.
