It's not easy to ignore Bridges chain-smoking beside me, but still I focus on the heavy door to this small room and the hallway beyond it.
Mace—supposedly next in line for keeping me safe.
I wonder how I can make a better first impression than I gave Bridges; I need this Mace guy to actually take this all seriously.
Suddenly a loud crash sounds in the distance. I sit up straight and let my hopeful face fall as a shout rings clear down the hall. "Mace!"
The door to the small room bursts open and reveals two sweaty guards hauling a man twice their size inside. "Get inside—and sit down—" one guard grunts, using all their strength to push the massive man into the seat next to me.
Blood rushes to my head as I look my protector up and down. Sure, he has the build of a bodyguard, but one look at his face reveals Mace is older... much older. Dark, curly hair is grey in spaces, and I guess he must be forty at least.
"What's going on, Bridges?" Mace growls, snatching the cigarettes from the table and gesturing for a lighter, too. His unkempt hair adds to his grisly demeanor. "Don't tell me this kid—" he inhales deeply, tossing wild curls in my direction, "—is coming back with me?"
I glance at the Lieutenant, wondering how he'll break the news.
"Warden's orders," Bridges confirms, throwing me another nasty glare.
"I have a name," I seethe to the both of them. "It's Andy."
"It'll be Dead Meat in an hour," Mace counters, voice rough and not at all soothing. His light grey eyes swirl like the smoke escaping his lips as they meet mine. "If that."
"I thought it's been going alright in Third lately," Bridges continues conversationally, as if we're not discussing my imminent doom. "It's been awhile since a report has crossed my desk."
Mace laughs darkly, sucking back the smoke between his fingers like he's thirsty. "That's because Ox is on some different kind of shit altogether." His eyes find mine and I'm confused by them; normally there's something hiding in these kind of deep looks—but Mace? He's concerned... rational... sane... "You'll be killed for sure."
I let a bit of my fear slip and show on my face at these words. Mace looks me up and down and then breathes out a hit, speaking low to Bridges.
"Warden's got no choice, huh?"
"None. Gen pop will tear him apart. You know that," the Lieutenant gestures at me and I hate how embarassed I feel. There is a helpless, irritating knot building under my stomach and its heat is collecting in my cheeks. "Ox your only concern?" Bridges continues, smashing out his cigarette on the table and proceeding to light another.
Mace pauses for a moment but comes up blank. "That maniac is out of control, Bridges. I've been saying."
"I'll give him a little talk," Bridges offers, a darkly cruel smile spreading over his usually tight lips. When Mace doesn't take the bait, Bridges sighs. "You're the only guy in this entire place I trust won't touch this kid, Mace," he says seriously. I try to understand exactly what that means, and how the Lieutenant is so sure. "We don't really have a choice here, do we?"
Mace flicks his cigarette butt at Bridges and leans back in his chair, grey eyes darkening. "Then why bother asking?"
The clinking of my shackles pulls both of their attention back to me and I notice too late how I've been fidgeting anxiously. But I know the only answer here is Mace, and how effective his protection will be.
"Come on, dude," I beg, "I didn't ask to be here. This is all bullshit!"
"Yeah," Mace agrees, shaking his head like the whole thing is crazy. "It's bullshit. I'm here because of bullshit too, kid." I don't quite believe that. This man's aura is screaming that he's killed someone with his bare hands before.
"All settled, then?" Lieutenant Bridges asks, standing like he's wrapping this whole meeting up. "He's all yours, Mace."