New Taboos Read Online Free

lobbyists—and any kind of oversight gets voted down.”
    Phil nodded mechanically. “Statewide in Arizona, North Louisiana Penal Systems—they’re big employers. Not that many flesh and blood jobs around anymore. The jobs give them clout.” He swiveled his chair a little, looked out the window again. “And you know, since the ACLU sued ICE over conditions for illegal immigrant prisoners, things have changed. ICE settled, reformed the whole thing.”
    â€œThat was a
long
time ago and it was only specific to families with children. The basic situation hasn’t changed since then—they get money from government for each person in prison, so they’re motivated to just
keep
people there any way they can. And privatized prisons are always,
always
motivated to cut corners to maximize profits. Word on the street says it’s gotten worse—especially at Statewide … Christ, Phil, it’s not just Americans and illegal immigrants there! They’ve brought hundreds of thousands of prisoners in from other countries—they contract with Brazil, Pakistan, the Sudan, even the Chinese. Some of them are political prisoners! And when a prison takes up an entire state … how much oversight can there be? How many people do they have to manage? Millions, Phil! What’s it
like
for that many people behind bars? I mean—their electrical systems keep failing. Temperatures get up to a hundred-twenty in some of those pods—three people that we know of died in solitary during the heat wave last summer. Who knows what else goes on?”
    Phil screwed up his mouth into a twisted cone. “I’ll give you that—McCrue runs the place shady. No transparency. They put money before inmate safety. I mean, maybe, if you can get in there on your own, but—you’ll want yourtrip paid for, yeah? You’ll want us to provide you with some kind of imprimatur … I don’t think we can do that, Faye. If you can get there on your own and come back with a good piece … documented … Then
maybe
…”
    Faye knew she was supposed to be happy with that and just go away. But it wasn’t good enough. She needed this assignment. She was deep in debt, and with the print magazines folded up, she had nowhere else to go. And this story mattered.
    She had just one card left to play. “Phil—you
have the authority
to assign this! You
owe
me one. Just one! I really
need
this …”
    He looked at her, his shoulders stiffening, eyes narrowed. The wreckage of their intimacy was there in the room with them. His promises.
Yes, I’ll divorce Miriam. Give me time, Faye. Another year
…
    And his betrayals.
Can’t do it. It would wreck my life, Faye. My career.
    Finally, Phil exhaled noisily through his nose. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

    Faye had three more hurdles after the border, each human hurdle closely inspecting her Four Pass: first, another checkpoint; next, a meeting with one of Statewide’s staff attorneys, a buff, lisping man named Biggle, who tried to get her to sign a nondisclosure agreement even after admitting that it was a strange thing to ask of a journalist. But when she referenced the ACLU—which had been making a comeback, after being almost nonfunctional following thecountersuits of 2025 and 2026—he got a resigned look on his face and went to make some phone calls. When he came back, he sighed and said, “Well, I can let you go to
select
pods … One, anyhow. Pod Seven-seventy-five.”
    The third hurdle was McCrue’s Statewide media liaison—a tall, vulpine blond woman named Rita Burse.
    â€œThey’ve asked me to be your guide around pod seven-seventy-five,” she said, looming over Faye in the warden’s reception room. Burse had a beakish nose, small lips, and her blue eyes seemed oddly far apart. Her accent was Southwest; her suit dress was light blue tweed; the color of her pumps