Something to Die For by Kaye Blue

Two

Lucas

The good doctorhad fucked up.

She knew it too.

And knew that I knew.

I let a smile lift my lips, a rare expression.

I could tell things were going to shit around here, but them letting the doctor take a prisoner, especially me, back to a cell was all the proof I needed.

I had been in this prison for six years, eleven months, and twenty-six days. The rhythms, the monotony of it all, were so familiar that I almost didn't notice them, so when something changed, it stuck out.

And over the last several of weeks, something had changed.

I just hadn’t figured out what.

Guards kept their routines and their schedules, but over the last couple of weeks, some were working longer shifts, some not coming in at all.

And if my count was right, the good doctor had worked eighteen days straight.

No doubt this shithole was understaffed, but even for this place, that kind of stretch was out of the ordinary.

The news kept talking about some cold going around the world. I’d seen it firsthand here. It seemed like every other asshole had a cough or fever.

And people were on edge.

Today was case in point.

A stupid fucking fight that I should have kept my nose out of.

Stephens was a fucking worthless junkie, and I’d had half a mind to kick his ass myself. But he was also a brother.

I snorted at how meaningless that word was.

Brother.

What bullshit.

But bullshit made the world go ’round, and I couldn’t tolerate disrespect.

So I’d broken two arms and earned more grudges.

Shit I’d deal with another day.

For now, I wanted to rest.

I stretched out on the metal bunk, one that was about five inches too short to hold me, something that pissed me off every single day.

That thought in mind, I drifted into sleep.

Was pulled out of it by a scream.

Her scream.

* * *

Lucas

What the fuck?

That was my first thought.

My second was that there was trouble, big trouble.

The bars were open, which wasn’t uncommon.

They stayed open during most of the day, but never when the prison was on lockdown, which it had been almost constantly for a month.

And never when guards were out of sight.

But they were open now, and that, her scream, and the otherwise eerie quiet that filled prison had me on edge.

I stood, jammed my feet into the bullshit flip-flops they gave us instead of shoes, and cautiously poked my head out.

It was way too quiet, and everything inside of me was on edge.

I should wait, stay where I was.

Leaving my cell now would be a major infraction, and I didn’t look forward to any more days in solitary.

But still, my instincts ruled me, and they told me I needed to move.

When I heard another scream, I did.

Where was I going?

I sure as hell couldn’t get out, but something was driving me toward the infirmary, toward that scream.

My instincts had kept me alive for this long.

I wouldn’t question them now.

The quiet was unnerving because it was so uncommon.

There was always activity, always noise, but now there was just eerie silence, and the edge I felt before was something deeper now, something almost like fear.

I hadn’t felt that feeling since I was a child, but I felt something like it now and was disturbed in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

But like I always did, I pushed emotion down, knew that it wouldn’t serve me, and instead focused.

I headed to the infirmary, wondering what I would find there.