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She shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. She spoke with Warden Bradshaw and now-”
Abruptly, she stops talking and squares her shoulders. Being new means she isn’t completely used to the order of things around here, and most of the nurses and workers wouldn’t give me even half of what she just blurted out. Her eyes narrow when she realizes the mistake, and I just grin. “I can’t talk about details,Mr. Constantine.She’s waiting downstairs.”
It’s kind of amusing watching her try to backtrack. I grin at her. “What was your name again?”
“Nancy - uh, Ms. Underwood. Nurse Underwood.”
Of course it is.“Well,Ms. Underwood, lead the way.”
She lets out a sigh and nods before leading us from the room. The door to my cell is open, and I wait expectantly for a guard to step in and cuff me up before we start the descent downstairs. It’s odd enough that the nurse is escorting me between floors, but I’ve seen plenty of newbies blunder through procedures and get sent downstairs ahead of me.
Swiping my hand over my brow, I realize my skin is a little clammy. Newbie looks back at me expectantly from the doorway, and when I zero in on her features I realize her pupils look surprisingly small right now. Shaking the odd thoughts from my head I try and keep focused. Most of this floor is vacant right now but even when inmates are supposed to be down on the other floors someone is always walking around as a safety measure. Usually there is someone standing in or just outside of my line of sight to slap the chains on my wrists before I leave the cell. Even heading down for meals requires the cuffs because no one trusts me.
The seconds tick on but no guard steps in. The nurse is still standing there, rocking on her heels. After a moment she clears her throat. “Are you coming?”
“Is that a joke?” I snap, narrowing my eyes. It’s probably a trick, or maybe Kyle or Norbert is standing outside of my line of view waiting. I managed to make both of the guards mad a couple days ago and could see one of them doing something petty to make my day suck a little more.
She frowns. “No? We need to get downstairs for your meeting.”
“No way,” I tell her, shifting backward until my legs hit my bed and I sit down. My head is a little fuzzy, and it’s not like I’ve been avoiding eating and drinking so I really have no reason to feel dizzy. “I’m not falling for that. You think I want to get in trouble again, Nurse Newbie? Get the guard over here now and follow the procedure.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have. I don’t trust the scenario playing out in my head even as I start to cough again, and she stays outside of the cell fidgeting with her hands. I definitely feel like I’m being set up, and something smells fishy. New nurses typically don’t see us in our cells. We go down to the medical ward for treatment or medicine, and the only reason care staff comes up to the third floor is for a medical emergency.
More seconds… then a full minute. No one steps forward and Nancy doesn’t approach. That might be the only smart thing she’s done thus far, keeping distance between us. I lick my lips, glaring at her. “This is a trick.”
“I’m just following instructions,” she says, clearing her throat. “You have a visitor and I’m to escort you to the elevator.”
I don’t trust her but at this point my curiosity is too great. It could be the tightness in my chest, and I think my breathing is a little shallower than normal. Is this panic? Shifting on the bed I stare, and she takes a gasping breath, pressing a hand to her chest.
Something’s wrong. All at once I stand and stop focusing on her, listening for noise on the rest of the floor. The cells aren’t soundproofed so we can hear each other, and usually I can hear people making noise moving around or being escorted around the floor, either to someplace else or back to their cells. This place is eerily silent, and I thought I heard others coughing and speaking earlier, but now I hear nothing.
Screw it.
I get up and stumble forward a step, my breathing harsher as I hurry towards her. She shrinks back to the wall, and I grip the bars of the cell and peer out.
There’s no one here with us. It’s just me and the nurse, and that feels like an ignorant mistake. Isn’t everyone afraid I still have killer tendencies since the FBI thinks I’m training a fucking protege?
“Where are the guards?” I snap, and my voice sounds strange. I would call this the beginning of a drug trip, but that doesn’t make any sense. I try to shake my head to clear it, but that doesn't seem to help.
Nancy leans forward, her eyes sparkling as she stares. “I can’t believe I got to meet you.”
That’s not promising. I reach out, grabbing her wrist, and the psycho grins instead of looking afraid. “What’s going on Nancy?”
“You don’t have to worry,” she tells me, flashing me a grin. “Although things would be e-easier-” she breaks off as her breathing stutters, and the motion sends her to her knees as she presses her opposite hand there. I let go of her arm, glaring down as I fight the sudden dizziness. If I end up on the floor I’ll be an easy target for anyone, and that can’t happen.
Licking my lips, I try to respond, possibly yell at her, but nothing comes out. Nancy grins and sets her hands on the ground, her pupils even smaller than before.
Is there something in the air? Where did it come from?
When my knees hit the ground too, I hear footsteps. I turn my head, expecting to see a fleet of guards here to throw me into solitaire.
It’s just one, and he’s pulling something out of his shirt. As he gets closer through my hazy vision I realize it’s Wallsburg, and that fucking figures. His breathing looks uneven and sounds funny before he pulls a mask over his face, his gargled voice hard to hear through it. “I told that psycho bitch to not get things rolling this fast.”
When I wake up, there’s a haze over my memories. I don’t remember passing out, I don’t even remember moving. My arms feel like they are being pulled from their sockets, and when I try to move I realize they are bound tightly behind my back and the lack of circulation leaves pins and needles up and down my arms.
Nausea rolls through me, and I blink several times to try and get my bearings. My body feels lethargic, like the prospect of moving is just too much but lying here isn’t an option. Not knowing where I am puts me in danger, and I refuse to be trapped.
There’s a gurgling noise, and I’m still trying to make sense of where the fuck I am. The ground is harder than my bed, and the last thing I remember is talking to that nurse…