Ancestors knew we’d need allies down here. Might as well start with this kid. The last thing we needed was another enemy.
“It’s not so bad down here. We’re making friends already!” Marcus piped up. He still sounded weird.
“Marcus, what is up with your voice?” I demanded. “You’re projecting it or something.”
“No. I’m right here.”
I followed the sound of his voice and felt around, until my fingers poked through a hole in the wall— and straight into his mouth.
Marcus sputtered and backed away. “Ew! Get your fingers out of here.”
The hole couldn’t be more than three inches across, and it was shaped like a triangle, like someone had purposely cut it there.
“I suggest you keepeverythingout of that hole,” Jeffrey said as he lounged on the bottom bunk. “You know what that’s used for, right?”
He didn’t have to tell me. Marcus, however, wasn’t that quick. “Passing messages?”
Ivy sighed and whispered something on the other side of the wall.
“Oh! Ewwww!” Marcus cried.
“Don’t look at me,” Jeffrey said. “It was here when I got here, and that cell’s been empty until you arrived.”
“I’msureyou never…” Chancey coughed as he struggled to continue his push-ups. “Thought of…” Another cough. “Using it. Fuck. How much longer do I have?”
“Until Captain decides you’re done,” Jeffrey said. “Could be hours.”
“I’m not gonna last that long.” Chancey’s stomach rumbled. “I’m out of shape—”
He didn’t get the words out before he gagged loudly and vomit splattered across the floor.
Great. Now I was covered in pissandvomit. Just what I’d ordered.
“Sorry,” Chancey mumbled as he covered his mouth.
“Who said you could stop!?” a guard roared.
Chancey went back to his push-ups, but the guard taunted him with a click of his gun. “A little to the left.”
Chancey hesitated, then moved over, until he was doing push-ups in his vomit. The guard laughed maniacally. Chancey strained and groaned, but didn’t stop.
From the other side of the hall, inmates watched on and taunted Chancey. “Can’t handle a few push-ups? What a pussy!” someone laughed.
“I like pussy,” another cried gleefully like some sort of crazy person. “Let’s get him out in the rec yard and—”
Andthat’swhere I stopped listening.
This place was disgusting. At least the Institute pretended to be a college. Cellblock 9 was more or less a glorified torture carnival where the guards were free to do whatever they wanted, and the inmates would do worse.
“You guys need to be careful. It’s best to keep your head down and not draw any attention to yourself,” Jeffrey said lowly.
In other words, keep your fucking mouth shut, or become a target. We all went quiet, though other inmates continued to yell at one another beyond our cell.
There wasn’t much space to move, so I hopped up on the top bunk. It was barely as wide as my shoulders, and several inches too short. The ceiling was mere feet above my head, so I couldn’t sit up. No way would Chancey and I actually fit on this thing together, which meant someone was sleeping on the cold, damp floor next to the vomit and the clogged toilet.
I rolled around, trying to get comfortable. Something sharp jabbed into my shoulder, and I jumped.
I felt around and realized the edge of the bed was rusted to a point. I tried to wiggle on it to see if I could get a piece off and use it as a weapon— ancestors knew we’d need one— but it didn’t budge. If the guards or the inmates didn’t kill us down here, infection would for certain. I didn’t know how some of these guys had lasted this long.
