Deadly Drafts - CH 36

CLUNK! FLUSH! BOOM!

Harris wasted little time once the cellblock door closed. He thrust a clammy hand down his prison sweats and closed his fist around the rod. And just like his childhood, Mercedes cracking his bedroom door very moment Harris pulled the dog-eared magazine from under his mattress, the moment his fingertips slid under his elastic waistband, Harris' cell darkened. He looked up, barely able to breathe. The guard's Neanderthal brow filled the small window in the cell door.

"Three shakes and you're playing with it." The guard's grin felt both sinister and familiar. He shrugged as he moved on down the line. "Not that you have much time anyway."

Harris pulled the rod from his pants. It shimmered in the low light of the cell. Wiping his hands on his pants, once, twice, three times, Harris opened the Ziplock bag and withdrew the soft metal. It looked like dull silver.

"Work quickly," Harris said aloud. "There's an outside chance this stuff reacts with air and burns your hand clean off."

"I put it…," Kavi audibly gulped. "It could have exploded?"

"You fucking bastard." Arthur shouted from the far cell. His voice was brittle as the frost lining the walls. A dull gong, probably the butt of a gun hitting Arthur's cell door, echoed down the hall.

"Quiet you," The guard whispered.

"Wait." The crinkle of plastic paused in Kavi's cell. "Who's a fucking bastard, Arthur?"

"Bernard."

"You threw a wrench in The Admiral's plan," the guard's voice hissed. "Getting yourselves tossed here in solitary. Nothing we couldn't fix though. Nothing against you three, you seem nice enough…but a paycheck is a paycheck. And mine gets cashed once that riot alarm goes off." Standing in the middle of the row, Bernard cocked his gun. The beast cha-chinked, running a cold shiver down the Irregulars' spines. "Just need enough noise to cover a few little booms."

"Well," Harris walked to his toilet, metal rod hovering over the water's surface, "that makes four of us, Bernard."

Ready or not, the prison alarm screeched. Its high-pitched whoop poked needles into Bernard's temples. He covered his ears for just a moment, just long enough to miss the "Clunk! Flushhhhh" of three ancient toilets. The cellblock door clanged as someone ran in.

"Riot in the cafeteria!" This new voice shouted. "All hands! Code white!"

The footsteps ran off as quickly as they entered, leaving the Irregulars alone with Bernard.

"Just like we planned." The giant slid his thumb over the safety with a satisfying snap. "I'm gonna march you out of here and The Admiral is going to write 'The End.'" Gun to shoulder, he stalked to the nearest cell—Kavi's. She crouched in the nearest corner, knees to chest and hands cupped hard over ears, her eyes clamped shut.

Bernard paused. "What you think you're hiding from down there?"

"Fire in the hole!" Harris shouted. "We've only got about two seconds—"

Darkness swooped over solitary row. Field stone baseballs and buckshot mortar pushed Bernard back against the wall. The world swam in oil-slicked color and muffled sound. It felt like taking a haymaker to the jaw. It seemed to be...raining? Indoors? A downpour drenched everything in ice water. Bernard shook the stars from his vision and staggered to his feet.

Kavi was gone.

The prison's back wall resembled a mouthful of kicked in teeth. His vision swirling, unsteady, Bernard squinted against brightness and saw three shapes running out into icy dusk.

Shock staggered Bernard back. His head bounced against the cellblock wall. Electric-cold water pummeled his face, his body. He slid down to the floor. Bruises? Blood? Cuts? Broken bones? Bernard knew he could manage just about any hurt. What he could not take, though, what there was no pill or cast for, was the thought slamming Bernard's skull. It refused to quiet, a wave crashing louder and louder until he fell into unconsciousness:

The Irregulars were gone. And it was his fault.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Seven