looked like a curling black centipede.
“Move,” the brute growled, shoving Burnside’s tray aside and putting his own tray in its place.
If I don’t set an example now, I’ll be dealing with this at every meal.
The towering inmate moved his massive arms toward the table to drop his tray and Burnside acted. Ray tried to appear outwardly relaxed as he tensed up his body like a tightening spring and slowly pulled back his right arm. He exploded outward with his right fist and a sick crunching sound ensued as he broke the inmate’s nose, for quite possibly the fifth or sixth time. The inmate’s meaty hands flew up to his face to stifle the flow of blood. Burnside followed up with a hard left jab to the jaw, knocking the inmate off balance and dropping him heavily to the floor. Burnside paused to glance around the cafeteria at the faces of the inmates glaring back at him. He saw a group of four stocky, black-haired men staring at him calmly from an adjacent table. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He shoved the large inmate’s tray aside, sat down and reached for his own tray. He put his slightly disheveled tray in front of him and resumed eating as if nothing had happened, while the brutish inmate lay groaning on the floor.
That ought to make them all think twice about trying something like that again.
Ray noticed the stares of the other inmates turning away from him. He stared blankly ahead while he methodically shoveled food into his mouth without tasting it, ignoring the low murmuring of the other inmates. He glanced right when he heard a commotion on the far side of the cafeteria. A large group of light blue-uniformed guards moved purposefully down the cafeteria’s main aisle in the direction of his table. They turned into his aisle and approached, stepping around the fallen body of the giant to reach him. He counted at least ten. They all had their batons drawn. He stood up and placed his hands above his head.
“Hands behind your back,” the foremost guard, presumably the sergeant, commanded him.
Burnside complied. He knew when to pick his fights. The sergeant gestured for another guard to cuff him. The guard moved in and clicked the metal restraints on his wrists. The sergeant made a subtle hand gesture to the other guards. Burnside felt fingers gripping his shoulders and arms tightly as they pulled him to the ground and shoved him on his face. The wind was temporarily knocked out of him as he hit the floor.
Sure, they have to make it look good in front of the other prisoners.
“Excuse me, sergeant,” an unknown voice spoke from his right.
“Get back,” the sergeant said, raising his baton.
“Sure, no problem,” the unknown voice said. “I just wanted to let you know I saw everything. That guy didn’t start it. The other guy did.”
“We’ll interview you after we take him to solitary. Go back to your table,” the sergeant said.
“Yes, sir. No problem.”
The guards pulled Burnside roughly to his feet and he glanced toward the origin of the unknown voice. He saw one of the stocky, black-haired guys at the next table walking back to his seat. The unknown inmate stared impassively at Burnside as he was dragged out. Burnside nodded at him to acknowledge the good word he put in. The inmate made a barely-perceptible nod back.
Maybe this place isn’t going to be as bad as I thought after all. There appear to be a few prisoners, at least, who still have a semblance of honor.
The guards escorted him to the outside corridor and dispersed. Four of them surrounded Burnside and directed him to go right. The other six returned to their positions against the back wall of the cafeteria. The procession continued straight down the long hallway for several hundred feet until they reached a four-way intersection. Burnside had a good sense of direction, so he knew the
Catherine Palmer
Daniel Powell
Raine Thomas
Lin Carter
William W. Johnstone
Katharine McMahon
Barbara Delinsky
Tanya Huff
Tracy A. Akers
Nicky Singer