South Side - A Prison Break Story

7. Shady deal

Isabelle

The deafening bell rang, signaling that we were allowed to go outside again.
I climbed down from my bed via the ladder, skipping the last two rungs so I landed on the floor with a thud.
"You're coming with us today," Michael said as he put on his jacket.
I turned around and looked at him questioningly.
"I asked John yesterday if he could get you a spot on the work team," he explained after seeing my confused expression.
I was glad I could make myself useful and quickly grabbed my jacket.
Michael stood in the doorway of the cell, looking at me sternly.
"If any of them step out of line, call me, okay?"
I looked at him amused.
I don't need a savior; I can defend myself just fine, I thought.
"Isabelle?" he asked when I didn't answer.
"Only if I need your help," I began, "but don't count on that being necessary."
I gave him a confident smile, and he sighed.
I caught him as the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"So, shall we go?" I asked.
He was still blocking the doorway, not moving an inch.
I looked at him thoughtfully and took a step forward until there were only a few centimeters between us.
Since he was a head taller than me, I tilted my head up so I could look at him.
He stared down at me with a waiting expression.
"Michael," I began slowly, "if this is some kind of test to see how well I can defend myself, I'd suggest you move aside before I give you a knee to the groin too."
He nodded slowly, a twinkle in his eye.
"You'll manage," he said, turning around and calling over his shoulder, "just don't hurt them too much, we could use all the help we can get."
I rolled my eyes and chuckled as I followed him out onto the walkway.
"I'll do my best."

Not long after, we stood with the group in the guards' break room, which had burned down a few days ago.
Our job was to make the room look as good as new again.
To avoid suspicion from the guards, John and I were installing new panels on the walls, which would cover up the smashed concrete behind them.
Meanwhile, Lincoln and Michael were working on digging the hole in the ground for the escape.
The first time I saw Lincoln, I immediately knew he wasn't a murderer.
He was here because someone had framed him.
Just like me.
T-Bag, who was keeping watch for the guards, came strolling in.
"Michael, don't be stupid, let me work in here instead of her," he said, giving me a contemptuous look.
I met his gaze coldly.
I was determined not to let him get under my skin.
I shifted my eyes from T-Bag to Michael.
Michael was glaring at him, and I could see him taking deep breaths to keep his patience.
That's when John, who was standing next to me, decided to jump in.
"Stop whining and do what you're told," he said.
He gestured towards me, "She's doing her job better than you."
T-Bag cursed when he realized he wasn't going to win this and stormed back outside.
A smile crept onto my face.
I had been accepted by the group, with the exception of T-Bag.
John seemed less dangerous than I had imagined.
It's T-Bag who has the short fuse.
"Maybe 'whining' wasn't the right word," John began to say.
I interrupted him before he could apologize any further, "I think it was."
He looked at me, surprised.
"For a man, he was acting like a real whiner," I said, glancing at him.
He chuckled briefly, then continued stuffing the walls with concrete debris.
I followed his lead and went back to what I was doing.
We had been working for about forty-five minutes, and I was getting pretty warm, so I decided to take off my jacket.
I placed it on the table we had set up in the corner.
Just as I was about to walk back to my spot, T-Bag burst into the room.
"We've got trouble," he said.
Michael quickly jumped out of the hole in the ground, and Lincoln grabbed the large, thick rug and covered the hole.
John and I moved the table to the center of the room, placing it directly over the hole.
We were almost fully covered.
Everyone quickly took their positions.
T-Bag grabbed the clipboard and sat on the table.
Moments later, the door swung open, and Bellick stepped into the room.
I turned around and saw his eyes scanning my body.
I wished I hadn't taken off my jacket.
He averted his gaze from me and looked at John.
"John, you got a minute?" he asked.
His tone didn't sit well with me.
When I looked at John, I noticed him eyeing Bellick suspiciously.
I had the feeling that these two had some sort of dealings going on.
Shady dealings.
John put down the tools he was holding and followed Bellick outside.
I looked at Michael, feeling tense.
When John came back in, he was staring at the ground.
He walked over to stand next to me, and I could feel my curiosity growing by the second.
I had to know what they talked about.
"John?" I asked gently.
I got a grumbling response in return.
"What did Bellick want from you?"
"Nothing," he said. "He didn't want anything from me."
He looked up, and I saw guilt, maybe even a bit of shame, in his eyes.
Something inside me told me I needed to be careful.