The Queer Rebels

Chapter 36: Dragging

"What are you watching?" I ask Harry, even though I don't want to know the answer. I'm just so shocked by his response–or rather, his lack of a response–that I don't know what else to say.

But before Harry can respond, there is a loud explosion in the distance. Followed by another. And another.

Harry remains placid, but next to me, Eli shifts.

"The fireworks have started," Eli comments.

I look over at him and notice that he's glancing around. Thinking.

"I didn't realize how long we were in that closet," I say.

"We're running out of time," he mutters, more to himself than to me. Then he steps forward, grasping his brother's shoulder. "Come on, Harry. Stop playing."

Harry shrugs out Eli's grasp, his eyes locked on the screen in his hands.

"I mean it," Eli says, trying again.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry says without looking up.

Eli turns his head towards me. "It's like he's hypnotized."

I jut my chin in Harry's direction. "The screen?"

Then, with lightning speed, Eli lunges forward and swats the screen. There's a crack as it lands on the cell floor and then spins away across the cement.

Harry jumps to his feet, pushing his brother back with both hands. "Hey!"

But instead of taking a swing at Eli, Harry's eyes dart to the floor, trying to locate the device.

Without hesitation, Eli jumps forward and wraps his arms tightly around his brother. "Help me," he says through gritted teeth as Harry bucks and kicks out.

I jump into the fray. My cheek presses against Harry's shoulder as my arms try to pin him down. We're about the same height, but Harry is stronger, wider, a decade further into his transition than me.

At least Eli is larger, his muscular arms and back forged from years of farm labor.

But Harry doesn't relent. He writhes, twisting and turning.

"What are we gonna do?" I grunt as his elbow catches me in the stomach.

"Just... one... second..." Eli loosens his grip on Harry and slips one of his hands in his pocket. Then he brings something up to his mouth, bites and tugs. A plastic cap skitters across the floor and Eli jabs something into Harry's shoulder.

A second later, Harry goes limp in my arms.

His full body weight falls against me, and I stumble back. Eli catches Harry by the armpits, allowing me to get my feet under me. Harry's neck lolls over as Eli gently lowers him to the ground, slumping him against the bed.

"How the fuck are we going to get him out of here now?" I moan, looking down at Harry.

"I'll think of something," Eli says, cracking his neck and then leaning down to grab Harry's arms again. "But first, let's drag him out of here."

Shaking my head, I walk over and grab Harry's ankles. He's wearing slip-on canvas shoes without socks and as I lift, his loose pants slip mid-calf, revealing something plastic around his leg.

"What do you think this is?" I ask as Eli steps backwards through the cell door, stepping into the corridor.

"Huh?" he asks.

But with a blaring alarm, I get my answer.

The plastic ring flashes a bright red as soon as I step past the cell's threshold. Blinding strobe lights flash into my eyes, disorienting me.