Clip Joint_White Lightning, Book 3 by Debra Dunbar & J. P. Sloan

Author:Debra Dunbar & J. P. Sloan [Dunbar, Debra & Sloan, J. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Vincent opened his eyes, blinking them a few times to clear the grogginess. Metal jingled from his arms as he reached with his fingers to rub his face. A wide steel shackle clamped around his forearm, chains running from his wrists to the wall behind the creaking, spindle-legged chair he’d been deposited in the night of his arrival. As he shifted in his chair, the rattling of steel continued up the wall behind him. Stretching his stiff neck Vincent looked upward to follow the chains, which slung into a large eye bolt just above his head to slide along the ceiling toward a pulley block beside the door.

Well. This method of restraint seemed to be…thorough if not excessive. It wasn’t like he was a circus strong man. He didn’t have his powers, and there wasn’t much a time pincher could do against these chains even with them. All he could imagine was that those in charge of this facility didn’t like to take chances.

Vincent cleared his parched and scratchy throat. The air inside the dimly lit room was dank, rife with the malodor of mold and something dead. The floor boards were worn and dark. Several large, round stains hinted at locations of bygone pools of blood. The walls were of a mottled gray clapboard. The entire building seemed to have been constructed out of random pieces of lumber, and with no tools for measuring, squaring or plumbing.

Spending the night in that uncomfortable chair had been its own minor sort of torture. There was no true sleep to be found, though he wondered whether the power-sapping elixir he’d taken at Havre de Grace, and then once again as they’d arrived, offered a sedative effect. He and Betty had been driven in the back of a jalopy for countless hours. When they’d reached their destination, the sun had long set. All he could see of the compound once they’d taken off his blindfold and led him in were seemingly endless hillocks of moonlit snow, several dark, squat buildings, and a pool of light to the distance. Without a word, he’d been given the elixir, then manhandled into the shackles and deposited into the chair without food or drink.

Was it morning? Still night? The place was deathly quiet and without any sort of window or even crack in the walls, he couldn’t tell.

Deciding to explore his surroundings as best he could, Vincent gave standing up a shot, hoping they’d given him enough slack in the chains to get out of the chair. The steel links rattled through the eye ring mounted to the ceiling, and he managed his way to an awkward crouch before his bonds pulled taut. He couldn’t hold the position for long and dropped back into the chair with a loud rattle.

So much for exploring. Shifting awkwardly on the hard chair, he looked around to take in what he could of the room. A pathetic cot sat in the far corner of his cell. Presumably, he’d be upgraded from sitting through the night in chains at some point.

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