The Cage (Book 2)

Cherry

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Cherry

One Year and Three Months Later

They circled each other like vultures, eyes glowing with ill-intent. They'd both vowed to kill the other in order to declare themselves undefeated champion. It was the final round, and each had already beat scores of so-called champions.

The crowd cheered them on, hollering and shouting from the sidelines, driving them into a fighting frenzy. Both were 'champions'. One was the Blacks' champion, while the other was the Irish's.

Bets were taken. A hundred hands waved a hundred cigarette packs in the air; prison's universal currency. The 'official' bookie collected the packs into a giant plastic bag, registering each bet as he went. The crowd buzzed with excitement. This was by far the prison's greatest -and most illegal- form of entertainment, and no one missed a fight night. But so long as the guards got their cut, no one said anything. In fact, some of the attendees cheering the loudest and betting the highest were guards.

I watched from the catwalk towering above the makeshift ring through bored eyes.

Another day, another fight.

It was getting awfully monotonous.

The 'referee' looked up at me once all the bets were collected. A hush descended over the crowd. Hundreds of eyes turned to me, eager. Their eyes bore into me like laser pointers, but I paid them no heed. I'd learned to brush them aside a long time ago.

They waited for the signal.

I raised my hand high in the air and let it fall.

The fighters lunged.

****

In the bathroom's solitude, away from the crowd and its ruckus, I washed my face in the sink and looked in the old mirror. I barely recognized myself. I'd lost weight, and my face showed it. I probably looked older than my twenty-nine years.

Did people notice my hollow eyes? That I didn't smile anymore? Did they see my misery?

I smiled a wry smile.

Of course not. Nearly everyone here was miserable. And even if they did notice, simply no one cared. It was every man for himself here.

"Boss!"

I turned to see Cherry walking into the bathroom. "Our shipment is here," he announced. I stared at the younger man, just twenty and already well-versed in the mechanics of this world. Well, he'd been here longer than I had. At seventeen, he killed his stepfather who had a habit of drinking too much and assaulting both him and his mother. He was trialed as an adult and sentenced to life in prison, making him the youngest prisoner in the Prison From Hell. Earnest and inexperienced, Cherry was an easy target to those with dark hearts, especially since he was easy on the eyes. But he was smart too, and was quick to understand this prison's cardinal rule: To survive, you had to have protection.

So he sought out Schneizel, the then King of the Prison.

According to him, Schneizel gave him his protection but asked him for nothing in return.

It was a familiar tale, one that left a sour taste in my mouth.

My chest tightened in the way it tended to do whenever mention of him was made. My unnatural obsession with him was getting out of hand. It had already nearly been a year and a half for God's sake.

"Boss? Boss, are you listening to me?"

Stop thinking about him. Get over it.

I reached for the towel I'd brought with me and dried my face and hands.

Tossing it aside, I said, "Let's go."

I made my way through the prison block to the stairs leading down to the basement, Cherry following close behind.

"Hey, Cherry!" A black man walked out of his cell and grabbed his round ass, giving it a good squeeze.

Cherry swiped his hand away and glared. "Don't touch me, you asshole."

"Knock it off," I said and stopped walking, pinning him with a glare.

He clearly hadn't noticed me walking ahead, because the man's head whipped in my direction and he paled.

"Sorry, boss," he hastily apologized and beat a hasty retreat, as if I was the one he needed to apologize to.

It still surprised me that my word was now obeyed, especially when I recalled how my life had been in the first months of my imprisonment. But I didn't let my surprise show.

"That bastard." Cherry cussed, clearly fuming.

"Ignore him."

"Why do they always do that?"

"You're... easy on the eyes." I said by way of explanation, not that it was ever an excuse.

Cherry beamed. "You think so, boss?" His eyes twinkled, all signs of his earlier anger now dissipated.

I didn't reply and turned away.

Cherry, whose real name was Alex, seemed especially thrilled by my words.

We continued on our way.

I didn't fail to notice when he walked close to me, his knuckles brushing against the back of my hand. 

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

A new development? Thoughts on the situation? 

But where the hell is Schneider? 

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