Black And Blue: A Quentin Black Paranormal Mystery (Quentin Black Mystery Book 5) by Andrijeski JC

Author:Andrijeski, JC [Andrijeski, JC]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: White Sun Press
Published: 2016-07-24T16:00:00+00:00

15

COWBOY

“MAAAN, THAT WHOLE scene was ugly.” Dog shook his long dark hair, leaning his tanned arms on the metal bars of the fence overlooking the yard. “Ug-ly. I thought I’d seen some fucked up shit in my life. Between here and outside, I would have said I’d seen the worst of the worst. But I never want to see anything like that again.”

He grimaced, looking Black over when he turned his head.

“It wasn’t even just those Aryan assholes by the end,” he added. “Other guys were getting in on it... those fucking stormtroopers just stood there, watching.”

Black didn’t answer.

He really wanted to tell Dog to shut the fuck up.

He didn’t do that, either.

“Who did you piss off, anyway, wasichu?” Dog said, his expression growing shrewder. “That had to be a paid gig, man, with all those pigs involved. It had to be. Someone put a big red mark by your name, and it must have been someone on the outside. Not cigarettes... cash. I haven’t seen anything like that since one of the gang leaders got killed right in front of a guard... and that was nothing compared to what they did to you.”

Black didn’t answer that, either.

Dog shook his head, shuddering. “We thought you were dead, man. We were sure of it. All of us were saying you had to be dead. So when they broke it up and dragged you back to De-Seg, we were like, what the fuck? We thought they were just going to let you bleed to death in there... but then it passes around you’re in the infirmary, like two days later.”

Black felt his jaw continue to harden, the longer Dog talked.

He’d only gotten out of the infirmary the day before.

While there, three of those red-eyed things had looked him over. He hadn’t seen an honest-to-gaos human once, the whole time he was in there. Normally, that would be a relief, given his fears around his biology being noticed.

Here, it wasn’t a relief. Something about those red-eyed things made his fucking skin crawl... even beyond what they’d done to him since he’d encountered them.

Even so, he tried to talk to them.

He tried to lower their guard, get them to tell him something about what they were, what they wanted with him, but he might as well have been talking to himself. Someone had clearly given them strict instructions. They ignored every question he asked. The only words they spoke to him directly were to instruct him on what to do, mainly where to move his body while they examined and cared for him.

Lie here. Lean forward. Hold out your arm. Breathe deeply. Cough.

After the first four or five days, the instructions changed slightly.

Drink this. Eat this. Swallow this. Sleep now.

He’d been handcuffed to the bed whenever they hadn’t needed him to move. When he started feeling better, he made a lunge at one of them when he had one arm free, hoping if he caught one captive, he might be able to convince them to talk.

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