Page 249 of Shadowman
I’m not giving him what he wants, so I guess we’re done here.
Following Joy, we trudge in tense silence for a bit, nothing but the sounds of our footsteps accompanying my rampant thoughts. Back in general population, I hear voices coming from the rows. My face follows the direction of the crumbled corridors.
“I’m going to my cell,” I grunt, not waiting for her permission.
I want my journal. The idea of leaving it behind, all of that hard work… All those years of writing…
I can’t lose it. All of my truths are in that book.
Joy grabs me by the arm, but I rip out of her grip. “Why are you being like this?! Why are you all acting like I’m the fucking enemy just because I’m—”
“Fucking the enemy?” She cocks her head.
“Trevel isnotthe enemy,” I growl.
She blinks at me, eyes softening a bit. “Maybe not… But how well do you really know him, B?”
I freeze, held in place by her pervasive gaze.
The truth is that I don’t know him… not as well as I’d like to.
Not as well as I should if I’m going to keep sacrificing things for him.
Shooting her a defiant glare, I stomp toward my row. And this time, she lets me. But when I get there, I stop short.
There are guards in the row, delivering food to inmates in the cells. Handing it to them through the bars.
“They’re stuck in there,” Joy says from behind me while I gape in dismay. “When the storm fucked up the genny, some cells were open and others were locked. The servers might have a manual override in the control room…”
“But the Warden has it,” I finish her sentence, gloom riding my tone.
She’s quiet for a moment while we listen to the sounds of prisoners slowly rotting, more trapped in Hell than we ever were. Tools line the floor, as if they’ve been trying to cut through the bars or force them open. Clearly, it hasn’t worked.
My face slants, meeting Joy’s eyes. “What happened… to Luthor and Ren?”
Her face is alight with stuff I hate seeing. She’s supposed to be a rock. She’s supposed to be empty, like me. Instead, we’re both drowning in bullshit emotions, and it fucking sucks.
“The Warden had Ren in the East…” she murmurs. “Ever since the new guards arrived.” There’s a ringing in my ears that won’t stop. “He was down there the whole time, laced up and being fucking tortured.”
“W-why…?”
“Why do you think??” she grits out. “Becausehefucking said so. I’m not sure what was going on when the prison fell… I was outside, stuck in the old armory. All I know is that Luthor and Ren got out somehow… and they made a break for it.” She exhales, blinking slowly. “They took a boat. Went out into the storm… And no one’s seen them since.”
I’m being smothered. Concrete blocks of despair are burying me alive, and I can barely move or breathe.
“M-maybe they…” I croak, words clogging my throat. “Maybe… they made it.”
“Byron…” she whispers my name patronizingly. “Wake up. They’re dead.”
I bend at the waist.
“There’s no possible way they made it out of that storm alive.”
“Stop…” I whimper, pressure building behind my eyes as I cover my head with my hands. “Please…”
“Your friends are dead because of that asshole!” she cries. “Because escaping was their only option! The Warden would’ve killed them himself… How many times has he tried?? And he’ll kill you too! He’ll kill usallif we don’t stop him, you know that!”
“Whatdo youwantfrom me?!” I straighten, barging up to her face. “You think I can do something about it?? I can’t stop him! None of us can! He has a fuckingarmy, Joy. Hundreds of cartel men with heavy artillery that could wipe out five of this fucking prison! Sending me over here was just a test… If he wanted to, he could kill us all right now with the snap of his fingers.”
