Page 245 of Shadowman

Deep pools of water have gathered in certain spots. The smell of the ocean is a hundred times stronger than it ever was before, now combined with that of wet stone, smoke and gunpowder.

And blood.Lotsof blood.

I’m not trying to dwell on it, but there’s a faint smell in the air that I can only assume is death, blood trails on much of the floor that isn’t covered. My insides feel hollow from the knowledgethat people definitely died here, either from the accident, or after…

“We’ve been trying to locate and identify as many bodies as possible,” Hancock tells me, reading the mourning on my face. “Bring ’em outside and burn ’em, but we don’t have the manpower—”

“Simon!” Jasper snaps. “For the love of God, shut your mouth!”

“Fuck you…” Hancock mutters.

“No, seriously! Stop telling him things!” Jasper teems. “For all we know, he’s working for that prick! And I don’t want him running back there, telling him we’re struggling.”

Hancock is giving him a seriously strained look, reminding me that I’d heard they were in some kind of relationship. I haven’t seen them in a while.And I guess I’ve been distracted…

I swallow a lump, like a dry pill made of guilt.

“Are we…?” Hancock whispers to Jasper, who slows to a stop. They blink at each other. “Struggling?”

Jasper’s face loses a lot of animosity, anger fading into despondence as he reaches out, brushing some messy strands of hair away from Hancock’s eyes. In just that brief touch, in that lingering look, I see something that binds up my gut.

These are just guys;peopleforced into this fucked-up situation like the rest of us. I used to forget that all the time, because they were guards, and we were prisoners. They wereaboveus.

But now, we’re all on the same level. If anything, I might be above them, being in The Ivory’s good graces.

No wonder they’re so pissed off. I know I was.

“Let’s keep moving,” Jasper murmurs softly to Hancock, who nods.

General population isn’t as torn to shreds, but it’s still a mess. Jasper and Hancock keep their guns up, moving around cornerson high alert. My heart is rocking steadily, eyes jumping left and right, watching out for whatever danger could be lurking in these dark halls.

Jasper whistles, and someone in the distance whistles back.A signal.Once we’re closer, Peters comes into view. He looks surprised to see me, but doesn’t comment on it. Just nods at Jasper and Hancock.

“Any word?” Hancock asks.

Peters shakes his head somberly. He clears his throat. “Nieves made a break for it…”

The three of them share a knowing look, one that I can also read.

So, he’s dead.

“Sunshine here came to check on us,” Jasper tells him, eyes flicking to me. “We’re bringing him to Velle. Linetti and Brenner are on lookout, but you might wanna get down to the crash site just in case…”

“Ten-four,” Peters says, casting me one last glance before storming off in the direction we just came.

My thoughts are a jumbled mass of confusion and questions as we keep moving, passing a few more guards outside the cafeteria. They’re all armed with assault rifles, posted up like soldiers.I swear to God, we’re in Fallujah, not New York.

I realize that we’re headed into the West Wing when we reach the stairs. This part of the prison has minimal damage.Go figure, since it’s the Warden’s side.On our way upstairs, Jasper whistles again, which is met with another whistle. Followed by a familiar female voice.

“This better be good… You assholes are flaking on guard duty.”

We come around the corner and I’m flooded with relief,muchmore potent this time.

“What’s the—” Joy’s words cut out when she sees me, her eyes widening. “Oh, shit.”

Pushing past the guys, I race over to her, and she launches herself at me.

“Thank God you’re alright,” she whispers, hugging me tight.