Page 180 of Fragments
“What the fuck are you talking about??” Dash croaks in my ear.
“Dash… what areyoutalking about?” I ask, my tone taking on a more sympathetic edge. I have a feeling this is somehow very important to him, and it’s not making a lick of freaking sense. “Officer Kemper hasn’t worked at Alabaster in months.”
I hear a swift breath leave my friend, and then a thunk, like maybe he dropped the phone. I check the screen to see if the call is still connected. It is.
“Dash??”
He doesn’t respond. But I hear him grumblingnoover and over in the background, shuffling and rustling.
“Dash, are you okay, man?” I ask again, though it’s obvious he’s not focused on the call anymore.
I feel awful. Confused as fuck, yes, but I still feel bad.
Dash has so many issues, and now he’s out there, alone, on the run. Off in hiding by himself, dealing with the twisted mess in his brain. I don’t know what Officer Kemper has to do with any of this, but right now I wish more than anything that I could comfort my friend.
I’m so glad he’s alive, but something about that call tells me justbreathingmight not be enough.
Handing the phone to Joy, I rub the back of my neck. “He’s uh… done? I guess?”
Her forehead lines as she checks the screen, which still shows the call as connected. She lifts it to her ear, blinking at what must be more sounds of Dash panicking. So she just ends the call, stuffing the phone back into her pocket.
I’m about to walk back to the table, but Joy grabs me. “Did he mention Officer Kemper to you?”
I stare at her for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yea.”
“What did he say?” She seems to have a vested interest in this herself, though I’m not sure why.
“He didn’t really say much…” I mutter. “He asked when Kemper quit, and when I told him it was the day he got here, he seemed really… confused. And upset.”
Joy rubs her face. “Jesus, this is all just…wonderful.”
“What’s going on?” I ask nervously.
I’m even more worried for my friend now than when I thought he was dead.
“I barely understand it myself, kid,” Joy sighs. We start walking back, but she turns to me again. “Dash has some issues, huh?”
“Yea,” I huff, remembering the night we made out. “That’s putting it mildly.”
She brings me to the table, whispering, “I’ll let you know if he calls again,” then she stomps back over to the doorway, where Rook is standing, looking exhausted and stressed.
It’s par for the course right now, I suppose. As happy as I am that Dash got out, his escape set off a chain of events. And something tells me it’s only just getting started.
I don’t always love being right.
Sure, it’s satisfying to sayI told ya so, but when the thing you predicted is a whole bunch of mayhem and uncertainty, well… Sometimes I’d rather be wrong.
Things are getting even weirder in this prison. I haven’t seen Velle since the day he was running around, tear-assing through everyone’s belongings, and now, as it would appear, Rook and Joy have also vanished.
It’s been four days since that call from Dash. That was the last time I saw Joy, and Rook also hasn’t shown up anywhere. It’s honestly a bit troubling.
The guards in this place aren’tgoodpeople, we know that. But they’re our only links to the outside world, and after seeing them day in and day out for years, you start to rely on them for stability. It’s not that I adore Velle’s cocky asshole-ish ways, Joy’s no-nonsense attitude, or Rook’s undying sheep-like following of the both of them, but they’re also the only ones who truly keep this place running. Velle and Joy in particular, but Rook is clearly the new, sweet and understanding addition to their brain trust.
Love him or hate him, when Velle isn’t around, Alabaster Pen begins to crumble from the inside out.
I noticed it first the other day, when no one came by to bring us for food or showers until more than half the day had passed. I know things can get a little unorganized when the guards do their monthly trips off-island, but still, it was odd.
The day after that, still no sign of the power trio. A flustered Peters was ordering everyone around, and we ended up sitting in the cafeteria for three hours because there was no one to bring us back. They’ve also been taking larger groups at a time for meals and showers, amplifying the fighting and general loudness.
