13

Somehow the new jail reminded me of the right side of my old high school. First there was the entryway, and then a large hall, just like the old cafeteria. The whole left side, with the classrooms and gyms and lockers weren’t there. There were more gates here, with heavier padlocks, than at my old high school , as well. As soon as they got me though the final set of gates, they unclasped my handcuffs. I rubbed my wrists; the right one had been chafed by all the tugging from the irritable guard.

I wasn’t certain if they chose not to check my bag because they knew I was coming from another jail or because they just didn’t care what was inside, but the two monitors at the door, a pair of tough looking old women with pursed lips, just indicated that the guards should bustle me on through, lock me in, and then go get the next prisoner. I was thrust unceremoniously into a large room half full of criminals, and the door clanked shut behind me. Everyone else stared at me with empty eyes, eyes that were used to seeing newcomers. Thus began my stint in the new jails.
My description of cafeteria had not been entirely accurate: this was truly, clearly, and legitimately a cell. The walls were blank and the ceilings were low. There was no furniture. A motley crew of criminals littered the room, mostly hanging around the walls. I stared at them all with the steeliest eyes I could muster. Surviving in a world without rules was going to be much more difficult than surviving in a world in which every rule was carefully dictated, but I felt up to the challenge; in fact, I relished it. This was the first thing in years, or maybe the first thing I had ever come across, that could challenge my intellect. And maybe there would come points where it also challenged my physical capacities. And maybe I technically considered physical work to be for the lesser humans, for those who were not as heavily endowed in the intelligence department as I was. But a challenge was a challenge and I had spent so many years being so hopelessly bored that I was willing to accept that.

The first person to garner my notice, and to notice me, was that Jeremy, the same one from back in the old jails, who had watched and caused me to wonder, who had been the closest thing to a companion I had had since I had realized I was feeling less and less every day. He came up to me as I stood on the doorway, not puzzling over what to do but assessing my new home, this new scene. He took my bag from my hand gently and led me over to a side of the room without touching me. I would not have allowed him to touch me; I was determined to exhibit dominance with him. From everything I had garnered in observing him in return, I realized that he was someone I could be stronger than, someone who would fall prey to my ploys of weakness, and someone who would cater to my needs if necessary.

Jeremy was my first pawn in my new kingdom.

Ultimately, that was what was to happen. None of the businessmen in their lofty apartments realized it, and none of the politicians in their oval offices realized it; none of the lowly kindergarten teachers working at my old school realized it, and no voter who had elected those poor bastards realized it. Only we, here in this self contained prison, realized it: they had turned us from killers into kings, if we could prove it to ourselves. If we could exhibit just the right amount of dominance over the others, in the absence of rules, we could be anything.

In that Jeremy boy’s corner, there was an arms dealer and a prostitute. She, at least, looked like she had been here a while. The makeup that was left on her face was cracked and smudged, but she didn’t have lacerations from too many different on and offs of handcuffs, like the rest of us did. She hadn’t been in the old jails, then. She was new to the system. “Hey,” she growled at me in a smoke filled voice, but not in an aggressive way.

Still, that Jeremy would not have any of it. “Leave her alone,” he commanded gruffly, sounding much too much like a boy who was afraid. There was something lurking in the back of his tone that led me to believe that he wasn’t really scared, but I did not for a moment doubt the sincerity of his command. I hadn’t anticipated this luck, that I wouldn’t even have to prod and manipulate in order to start my regime here. This Jeremy character, for all his quiet observation back in the jail, had clearly come to admire me, perhaps for my looks, perhaps for my crimes—whatever the reason, he had aligned himself with me in some way or another, and I was not about to ignore such a gift.

I twitched my mouth into the semblance of a smile and regarded the prostitute levelly. “Sugar,” she drawled at that Jeremy, with the ease of someone who has had much too much practice charming men, “I was not trying to bother her. I was just being all friendly. You might want to try it sometime. People been talking, and they’re all saying that these jails are going to be dangerous, if you don’t have your friends and your wits about you.”

That Jeremy, clearly a character of few words, merely glowered at her. His glower was pointedly unimpressive, but somehow impressive because of that. He, I assumed, had been a con man before he’d been caught, perhaps a thief, or a rapist. His career had involved making women trust him when they had no reason to; he charmed them with a clearly boy like innocence, and then took them or assaulted them or raped them with the hardened criminal that lay behind. He wasn’t a killer, that I could tell with ease. He did not have quite that much of an edge to him.

I turned my body subtly to face the prostitute, and then gave her my most genuine, apologetic smile, reaching out to touch her hand. Instantly her slightly irritated, pointedly defensive façade melted and she gave me a smile that was just as true as mine was a lie. I had already pitted, or had at least started to pit, two members of this new world against each other—and better yet, both of them were pitted against each other while believing themselves to be on my side. Little did that Jeremy know, but he had given me an obvious advantage over the rest of the misfit toys in here, just by showing that I already had someone who was protective of me. Instantly I had something to offer. This was the best, most elaborate game I had ever played, and I anticipated winning.