New Olympus Saga (Book 4): The Ragnarok Alternative by Carella C.J

Author:Carella, C.J. [Carella, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction | Superheroes
Publisher: Fey Dreams Productions, LLC
Published: 2015-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

Earth FUBAR, Day Five

The day after the first bout, following a crappy breakfast – runny eggs and bacon, half a loaf of lumpy stale bread and a bowl of oatmeal – two guards had come to get her out. There was another team at the end of the hallway. If she wanted to escape, she’d have to figure out a way to overpower all four of them. They had stun batons and pistols. Even with Snipe’s combat skills, it didn’t look doable.

She’d been issued a bright orange jumpsuit, convict chic. It was a couple of sizes too big, and it made her feel even more vulnerable as she stepped out of her cell.

“Where are we going?”

One of the guards, an older guy, scowled at her and gestured with his shock baton as his only reponse, but his younger partner was slightly less of a d-bag. “Exercise yard,” he said, which earned him a glare from the old bastard and a grateful smile from her.

The exercise yard was a fenced-off section of what had been the sports arena’s parking lot before the dearth of cars made it a waste of space. Gym equipment – weightlifting stuff, some Nautilus machines, and so on – was lined up against one side of the fence. A small door led to it. Five other women were already inside, and a sixth one arrived after Christine was let in. They probably brought them there one at a time, to avoid trouble. A total of six guards kept watch from outside the fence, all in Watcher hoodies, all looking mean and bored at the same time.

Most of the women ignored Christine. A couple were using the workout machines, looking grim and determined. The one that came last sat by herself in a corner, staring out into space. The laughing woman was capering about, cackling and acting crazy, which pretty much confirmed it wasn’t an act. The last two were talking and staring at Christine.

Under the circumstances, any attention she got was probably not a good thing. Christine contented herself with examining the makeshift gym, feeling no desire to use anything there. P.E. class had never been a fave of hers, and she didn’t think she could really make much headway in self-improvement before she either regained her powers or some a-hole chopped her head off, whichever came first.

“Yo,” one of the two women eyeing her said. Christine turned toward them. Both of them looked tough and roughly similar: five seven or five eight, tan skin, several prison tattoos; this wasn’t their first time behind bars. One had shaved off all her hair, which made her ears stick out and her face look even meaner; the other had her brown hair up in pigtails much like Christine/Nellie had when she first arrived. The childlike hairstyle clashed horribly with the ex-convict’s scowling face.

“Hi,” Christine replied.

“Heard about you,” Pigtails said. “Missed the show, but guards were talking about you.”

“Killed Green-Go,” Cueball added. “He a tough motherfucker.”

Christine shrugged and stayed quiet. If they wanted something from her, they’d come out and say it eventually.

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