I recognize the attachment on his pistol. A silencer.
Did they know this would happen?
We keep walking. Five more times, he raises his gun. Five more times, the bodies hit the ground.
Not a single living guard or inmate in sight.
No Dax. No Wilkes.
Just me and him.
At the entrance, he pulls a keycard. Slides it through a reader. The beep feels louder than it should, like the sound of a cell door slamming shut.
The lock disengages with a soft click.
I step inside and know, instantly, that I’ve left Dax’s reach.
It’ll be up to Zachs, Wilkes… or me.
The door seals behind us, muffling the outside world.
Gunfire still echoes somewhere outside.
But here?
Here, I hear voices. Laughter. They’re laughing.
Outside, the island is overrun with the dead. Inmates and guards are being ripped apart.
And these men?
They’re celebrating.
I glance at the guard beside me.
He smiles.
It’s horrifying.
I smile back. My voice is smooth, steady. Fake. “Sounds like a good time.”
The bastard chuckles and presses his palm against my back, steering me forward.
We walk down a short hall, the laughter growing louder, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigars thickening in the air.
I brace myself.
I don’t have to wonder what’s behind that door.
I already know.
When we reach it, he doesn’t hesitate. He shoves me inside. “I brought the entertainment.”
I make a fast assessment of just how fucked I am.
Head count: sixteen. Scattered across the room, most with a pistol visible at their hip. Likely more hidden.
The back wall is lined with monitors, flickering with security feeds from across the island. Some show hallways, empty cells, the blood-streaked mess hall. Others show the yard, where bodies, some moving, some not, lay sprawled across the pavement.