High-Security Prison

Matthew

“It’s just for six months. After what you went through, this is a good opportunity to slowly get back to work.”

Despite being a job recommendation, his wording felt more like an order, and disobeying a direct order from a superior would just make things worse, so I nodded even though I knew I would hate the job.

Working as a Special Ops agent was my calling, or at least it felt like it was. The covert missions, the spying and rescuing, the adrenaline-soaked situations and the intel gathering all of that came naturally for me.

The only reason they were shipping me off to God-knows-where was because some people sucked at their job big time and gathered the wrong information for a mission. Said mission was doomed to fail from the get-go, and the sole reason my team survived was due to my gut telling me something stank and to turn back. I, however, almost died back there, and rehabilitation was the worst.

But now, I was ready to get back to work; I didn’t need to ease into it by working as a prison guard. Still, an order was an order, and the day before I needed to report to work, I went to my superior, someone who always looked out for me, to give the hint that after the six months, I wanted back on the S team.

“I’m glad it worked out that the mission ended up being a bust.” I heard him say as I got closer to his office. Maybe I should’ve left, but his tone suggested the conversation was ending, so I held my steps back and waited. Besides, I was pretty sure he was aware that someone was outside his door, and simply didn’t care. “Yes, tomorrow,” he said after a few seconds. Whatever the other person said, it made him chuckle. “You won’t have any trouble with Matthew, he is a good soldier.” I didn’t like hearing him talk about me, but at least it seemed to be in a positive light. “He is pliable. A sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

I would never have thought my pride would be hurt after hearing those words, but it did.

Their conversation ended soon after, and a few minutes later, I knocked on the door. I guessed he wasn’t aware I had been there at all because he was slightly surprised to see me.

The next morning, I boarded the military aircraft with a few other soldiers without knowing its destination.

“Does anyone know where they are taking us?” Asked one of the guys in the group of six men sitting in the hangar. He was as green as they come, asking something like that when obviously everyone was in the same situation. No one replied, but some clicked their tongues. “How long–”

“Stop talking,” said a man to my side.

“But why would–” the green agent spoke up. He was a nervous mess.

“The chances of this little monster crashing,” began another man, tapping the wall of the aircraft, “are very low, but the more you speak, the more you increase the chances of it happening. So shut up, or I’ll shut you up myself.”

I have always trusted my gut, so when I got a feeling about something, I paid attention to it, even if I didn’t understand why, like not being told the location of the high-security prison I was being shipped off to.

I couldn’t tell how many hours it took for us to arrive, but it was long enough for my muscles to feel stiff. A couple of cars waited for us when we unboarded the aircraft, and in a quick and efficient manner, we were told which car to enter. The greenhorn soldier was led to the same car as me, and soon we were driving through a long dirt path with tall trees on both sides until we reached what was supposed to be the prison. Honestly, it looked like a normal building if it wasn’t for the wall and barbed wire around it. I stared at what would be my workplace for the next six months and decided to look at it like a sort of vacation.

A Senior Guard showed us around, first our sleeping quarters situated in a building just outside the perimeter of the prison, where the greenhorn and I would be sharing a room, and once we left our personal belongings there, he took us around the prison.

The more he showed us around, the worse my bad feeling got. The prison had five floors, with a cafeteria where both guards and inmates ate together, and it was mixed; men and women cohabited there. Amongst all the information the Senior Guard was giving us, these three were the ones that caught my attention first.

If they weren’t all wearing the same grey clothes, I wouldn’t have guessed they were prisoners. Other things also tickled my brain, like the wall being easily climbable and the security seeming lax, but I decided not to judge the book by its cover right away. I could be just overanalysing.

“Any questions?” asked the Senior Guard. I shook my head. I stopped hearing him a long time ago. I learned better on the job rather than memorising everything right away.

“Are they dangerous?”

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t click my tongue. The SG expression turned incredulous as he looked at me for a moment before looking back at the soldier next to me, as if I was the one who trained him. “Some more than others.”

“And the wristbands?” He asked. I rolled my eyes. He didn’t say anything wrong, I, too, was curious about them, but the SG was clearly annoyed that he had to show us around, and not to mention, he had that air of don’t ask questions.

“They tell how dangerous they are. The more they have, the more you should be careful,” the SG said, shrugging as if it wasn’t anything important and it was boring having to explain it. “Our prisoners are mostly well-behaved, and they don’t cause trouble, so don’t worry too much about the details.”

Before the greenhorn could ask anything else, the SG left without even telling us his name. Instead, the soldier turned to me as if I had the answers.

“What do we do if they attack us?” He asked.

“What’s your name?”

He stood at attention right away, his hand next to his temple, “Private Connor Berry, Sir.”

“This is not the military, so ease up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Call me Matthew.”

“Yes, Sir.” I rolled my eyes, and he flinched. I guess even sheep can be scary. “If they attack, protect yourself and contain the situation if you can.”

He bit his lips but nodded. The first day on the job would only be the next day, and since there were a few hours before lights out, I decided to go for a walk and get accustomed to this place. Berry followed me around like a baby duckling, but it didn’t bother me. What annoyed me with him was that he didn’t seem apt at reading the room and adapting.

As we walked around, I remembered hearing the SG say the cells were locked for about six hours during the night, and otherwise, the inmates could come and go as they pleased. However, as we walked around the corridors, I noticed a couple of locked cells in the middle of the day, and for some reason, one got my attention more than the others.

Perhaps it was because the other prisoners locked in the middle of the day looked bored or angry, desperate to be released even, but this one looked peaceful while covered in bandages. Maybe peaceful wasn’t the best word, but he did seem content about his situation, sitting on the floor basking in the last rays of the sun before it set, with his back to the wall.

The man looked at me, his face void of any expression, and after a few seconds, he looked away without a word or any reaction. I could feel Berry’s stare on the back of my neck as we walked away, but he kept quiet the rest of the day.