Page 69 of Caged In

Guess again.

Izz winces at his cellmate’s obsessive chattering. He knows Reni is referring to Sinn'ous. He also knows it’s wrong. It hadn’t been Sinn'ous who did it, isn’t any of the known murderers in here. Nope. Just one sad pathetic excuse of a thief . . .

He scrubs at his face, trekkingover to splash some water on himself. Trying to wash away the sin he committed. It doesn’t help. The guard is still dead. He’s still a murderer.

Did the guard have a family? Children? People who care about him—

“Yo, Izz man. Got you something.” Erik is standing outside the cell door, a trolley filled with books and commissary items by his side.

“What?” Izz hadn’t ordered anything, he has no money and he certainly isn’t borrowing any books. He’d rather watch the paint fleck off the walls than read a long droning book—or novel—or whatever the bookworms call them these days.

Erik holds up a deck of cards, slipping the stack between the bars for Izz to take.

He stays frozen by the sink, sceptically scrutinisingthe paper cards. “I didn’t order anything.”

Erik must have made a mistake in the deliveries. Has to be . . . right?

“They’re for you, from . . .” The side glace Erik swiftly flashes down the platform fills Izz in on who they’re from.

Sinn'ous.

Izz wanders over, plucking the cards from Erik, ignoring the sad look Erik gives him. He’s not interested in anyone telling him it’s a bad idea getting so close with a serial killer. For one, he is well aware he’s playing with his sanity and his life. And secondly, how does he even know Sinn'ous is a serial killer? There is no evidence, and Sinn'ous had helped him with the guard . . .

Who is he trying to fool? You only have to look into Sinn'ous’s eyes to see the darkness lurking beneath. The obvious cold danger prowling right at the surface, waiting for the next naive innocent fool to walk by.

Izz hopes it’s not him.

Sinn'ous said he likes you, he’s intrigued by you. He’s not interested in killing you.The little voice in Izz’s head tries to reassure.

Who’s to say Sinn'ous didn’t lie. Serial killers lie, don’t they? If they didn’t lie, they wouldn’t be able to hide their secrets. And that’s an important talent to have—when you kill people—you have to lie so you don’t incriminate yourself. He’s guessing, he has no idea. He’s never been in a real murder investigation, or an interrogation. He’s only ever seen it on TV. Who’s to say they don’t have mind-reading robots questioning you these days?

He’s becoming stir-crazy. There is no stimulusin this cell. He can’t stop his mind running and ruminating over everything that’s happened to him, and what’s going to happen to him—if anyone finds out. How much longer will he survive in this Hell-hole?

“You want to play a game?” Izz jostlesthe cards in Reni’s direction. Needing something to focus on.

Reni grins, clapping his hands together like he’s about to win big. “Hell yeah I do.”

~~~

The days are blurring together. Time melding and mixing into a disarray that Izz can’tdistinguish.His sleep patterns are off. His appetite is practically non-existent. Even with the snacks Sinn'ous has been sending his way. His stomach is a twisted mess, unable to hold anything down before it comes back up to say hello. Like some twisted morbid game his stomach is playing with his mind.

His throat is killing him, probably to do with the stomach acid burning its path out. His cellmate thinks he has a virus, he has no intentions of correcting the facts.

Guilt. Izz has guilt. No virus bug going around. Just your old-fashioned guilt. Nauseating and thick, filled with dark thoughts and a depressing realisation that he is capable of murder.

He’s not a hardened criminal. If his behaviour over the past—however long it’s been—is any indication, he would make a terrible mob member. No Mafia wants a guy who falls off the deep end over a murder some would say was self-defence. How would he survive a murder in cold blood? An innocent target he was sent to kill—

This line of thinking is not helping Izz’s anxiety and every other crappy emotion racing through his psyche. His emotions are a ticking time bomb. One he fears will end in a confession. Words he never wants to utter. Not when it will surely end his life. No way will any of the guards let it slide. He will be another‘tragic prison suicide’,which no one will investigate. It will be brushed aside, the public won’t care, and the guards will get away with killing him.

It isn’t helping with Reni spitting out different types of conspiracy theories. Going on and on about who could have done it. Hits from gangs, drug deals gone sideways. A love affair coming to an end—he has to give his cellmate credit on that one, it is very close to the truth. A little too close for comfort.

During the long stretch of lockup, the only upside to Reni being his cellmate is how easily he can be distracted. Izz doesn’t want to hear about the murder, but he fears he’d sound suspicious if he flat out told Reni to stop talking about it. So he keeps quiet and resorts to playing card games to try to divert his cellmate off the topic. Ninety nine percent of the time it works, and his cellmate forgets about the guard’s murder. Too engrossed in winning the games to focus on thewho-done-itside of things.

If only I could forget so easily . . .

Izz convinces Erik to deliver Sinn'ous a message, He’d had to write it down, as the skinny inmate refused to talk to the serial killer. He’d found the little joint he’d completely forgotten about, stashed away in its little hiding place. Ready to numb his mindfor an hour or two, all he needs is a way to light it. And so, he sends a message to Sinn'ous to politely request one.

~~~

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