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My ears strained to pick up the other person’s response. All the while, I worked some saliva into my mouth to combat the bout of dryness that had filled it again.
“H-ello?” I tried again. I surprised myself with the steadiness of my voice, but it still wasn’t loud enough to carry to whoever was outside. Or maybe this was a one-way system, where I could hear outside noises, but they couldn’t hear what was coming from inside?
I doubted that, though. If I knew anything about the Upper Council, it was that they really enjoyed a good public spectacle, and loved making examples of people who got on their bad sides. They would never try to seal the sound from inside; instead, they’d want to inspire terror in the other inmates by torturing and beating me for all to hear.Thatwould be more their style.
I swallowed again, cleared my throat, and tried to project my voice as loud as it could go. “Hello?”
My voice cracked at the end, after which I broke out in an embarrassing coughing fit that had me gasping me for air. My lungs burned as I heaved.
“You good in there?”
The question was quiet, but I could hear the person clear enough over my coughing feat.
“Shut the hell up, man,” the other person hissed. “You’re not supposed to talk to him.”
“He’s chained to a wall and that room is probably sucking him dry,Charles,” the man who’d answered me said. “What the fuck do you think is gonna happen? Aren’t ya the least bit curious about what got him in there?”
I might’ve barked out a laugh if my lungs didn’t feel like they were going to come out through my throat if I tried it.
“No. You know what humans say about people who want to know too much, Luz? That curiosity killed them—”
“They say curiosity killed thecat, Charles. Do I look like a damn cat to you?”
“Well, no, but… but I don’t think they meanactual—”
“Listen. Do you wanna know why the fucker’s down here, or not?”
What idiocy was this conversation?
Silence followed Luz’s question. A little later, Charles answered quietly, “Yeah, okay.”
I squinted at the wall opposite me, in the direction their voices were coming from.
“You—” I paused to clear my throat again and rid it of its scratchiness. “You said down here? Where am I?”
“You’re in solitary confinement,” Luz answered. I didn’t recognize their accents; they sounded British-ish, but definitely weren’t. Maybe Irish or Scottish? “What’d you do to end up in the ol’ night room?”
“Night room?” I echoed.
“Yeah. It’s another name for solitary,” Charles explained. “We call it the night room because there’s no doors or windows.”
“You’re in solitary too, then?” I questioned.
“Not quite,” Luz laughed. “We’re doing community service. Got caught robbing one of the blood banks and now we’re in lock-up. They put us in solitary as a warning, but our next transgression will get us locked up just like you are.”
I frowned. They had open cells in solitary? “I thought cells were sound proof?”
“They should be,” Charles said. “I’m not sure how you can hear us.”
I nodded like he could see me. “And how long have I been here, would you say?”
“Huh.”
“We’ve been here two days, and I think you were here before us,” Charles answered. “I’m not sure. Maybe the others could tell you better.”
That gave me pause. “The others?”
“You didn’t think you were the only one in solitary, did you?” Luz’s voice was mocking as he laughed. “I’m afraid you’re not that special.”
