The sound of chains on cement was the rhythmic sound of a steam engine as they escorted me to my cell.

Ching-Ching-Ching-Ching- Ching

It takes a lot of little steps to keep up with a long-legged Correctional Officer when you’re in ankle chains, and CO Mika was in a hurry.

“We have to move. They didn’t close the passageways for this movement,” she said as if that explained it all.

“What they afraid I will make a mad dash for freedom?” I laughed, then realized the short-haired inmate that entered our hall from a side passage.

She moved smoothly in her chains as only someone with a lot of time in them could, but that was far from the only about her that screamed institutionalized. For some reason, the Officer with her had allowed her to wrap the top of her jumpsuit around her muscular waist, which allowed her to show off her heavily tattooed arms and neck.

A professionally done queen of arts was done portrait style on her left shoulder, and a mirror image of it done prison style was on her right. The inverse was complete. One was a beautiful woman, the other a skull with clown makeup. The first was a queen the second a captive.

Except for her hands, which had too much going on for me to understand at a glance. Her body was covered in roses and thorns that covered each wrist and even crawled up her shoulders and even up her neck, stopping just short of her hairline in the back, and under her jaw from what I could see from behind.

“At least I didn’t return her to custody,” I thought but kept my mouth to myself. I’d only been in the recovery agent business a short time before all this went down, but long enough to have put some bad people in places like this. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that could work out poorly. I was just glad I was going to the asylum side of things, rather than the general population.

“Welcome to my house. You gonna enjoy it up in here Chronicville,” the woman was saying, and after a few beats, I realized she was talking to me.

“What the heck is Chonicville? I doubt Snoop Dog is there wishing me a nice day and handing out bones,” I asked Officer Mika, but the woman’s face remained stoic and hard.

The Queen of Broken Hearts in front of me tossed her head back and laughed, a response that caused her CO to give her shoulder a jerk.

“No talking! Keep moving,” he barked, but the Queen just laughed more, not even stuttering in her steps.

“Well?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed rather than freaked out. I had no desire to end up in Gen Pop.

“Order came down on the radio a while you were in with the cowboy. I don’t know who approved it, but clearly,” Mika raised her voice to a near yell, someone was talking about things in front of inmates who shouldn’t have.”

The neck of the officer in front of us turned a bright shade of red, and I knew who leaked the info, but I cared a lot less about that than about who gave the order. There was no safe place for a law enforcement officer of any kind in prison.

“I’m not even a convicted criminal, C-Block was just supposed to hold me for an evaluation,” I complained, which made the queen laugh even more.

“Oh, you were all badass on the street, with your gun and badge, but let’s see how badass you are on our turf,” the Queen said, once more showing she knew way more than she should about me.

I glared at Mika again. The officer stayed stoic, but I could see her jaw work, clenching and unclenching under that full Samoan face.

“What the hell is she talking about?” I asked quietly, and Mika drew up to a stop, letting the other officer and the Queen get some space.

“B-Block, tier two housing. It’s the disciplinary unit. No one is out of their cell, so it’s considered a secure cell block, but it’s not exactly a pleasant place,” she said under her breath.

We stepped off again, and I could only catch the occasional glimpse of the other officers’ shoes as they turned down a passage, and somewhere a buzzing noise sounded, and a door came open. Mika paused again.

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“We will wait till they have cleared the hallway, then proceed,” she said clearly and held my arm a little tighter.

The smell of the place was unreal. Warm concrete radiated the smell of something swampy and dank, even as the air reeked of a scent that reminded me both of copper and milk. I knew the smell of old blood well enough to recognize it, and my stomach dropped.

“I’m getting set up to get killed,” I said as the realization dawned on me.

“We won’t let you get hurt,” Mika sighed and stepped off again when the door slammed shut down the hall.

I shuffled as I walked, and tried to face Mika, but with each attempt, she jerked my shoulder forward and pushed me down the hall, “you don’t see something wrong here? I’m not a felon. I just pissed off the feds and now they are feeding me to the convicts!”

Mika’s eyes slid toward me, then up to an enclosed security glass dome where another officer sat looking down at us. “I’m sure they will work out it. Just stay in your cell, keep your mouth shut and let me see what’s going on.”

The heavy steel door buzzed as we got close and Mika pulled it just a little open, then turned to look right at me, “be patient, you don’t have a lot of friends here, the last thing you want to do is piss off the C/O’s as well.”

Pulling the door open, she urged me forward, then paused again as the door closed behind us. It was more of a long sally port than a hallway. The forty-foot-long passage was all cinderblocks on one side, then three rooms that appeared to have been holding rooms, though now they were clearly used for storage.

“I guess it takes a lot of toilet paper for a wing full of women,” I said as we passed the first, a room with large wire racks stacked to the top with one-ply toilet paper. There were also some sundry packs with toothpaste, pinky-length toothbrushes, soap, deodorant, and even some cute pink razor safety razors.

“We have more pipes clogged than a new jersey crack house,” Mika assured me but kept me moving. The second room had two women in it, but the door was locked, and they appeared to be folding linen. In the prison industry at work, the inmates had to do their own household chores, but the volunteers would only get pennies on the dollar for their work.

“There a lot of jobs?” I asked, but before Mika could respond the sound of rubber soles slapping the floor demanded my attention. A blur of motion was ahead of me, and all my trained instincts went right out the window as I fought against the cuffs and chains.

“Welcome to my house, bitch!” The Queen screamed as she came at me, unchained and gleeful. She had a murderous look in her eye, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do. I was chained, with Mika behind me and nowhere to hide in the narrow hall.

The Queen dropped her right hand nearly to the floor and, using her whole body, propelled it forward, throwing the haymaker to end all haymakers right for my chin!

I couldn’t stop her from hitting me, the best I could do was absorb it the best I could. Crouching as much as I could, I lowered my chin to my chest and drew up my shoulders. It was a pathetic defense, but it was all I had.

The blow caught me on the upper jaw like a hammer on an unripe melon and slammed me into the wall.

“CODE BLUE, B-BLOCK HALL!” Mika yelled, but Queen was on me already, her nails going for my eyes and cheeks. All I could do was roll and try to make my way to the ground. If I could put my body between my face and the floor, I might survive with only minor injuries, I reasoned, then felt Queen grab up and hand full of my hair and pull my head back.

“STOP!” Mika called and Queen wasn’t exactly following commands and bounced my head off the floor. The pain went light lightning down my neck and across my skull, only to be followed by another blow that shut down my vision and threw my balance into utter turbulence.

Something hissed and a familiar smell of cantaloupe and citrus came to me and my skin turned to fire. Mika was using her pepper mace.

The Queen screamed in rage, then coughed before another scream, this time pure agony as she took a deep breath of liquid fire. Her weight came off me as she cried and wiped her eyes. Mika might have sucked at keeping her charges safe, but she rocked with her mace, directly hitting Queen in the eyes.

Adrenaline coursed through me, but I’d been in more than one life-or-death struggle and knew better than to remain idle. I was given a good ass kicking, that was for sure, but Queen needed to leave with more than just a snoot full of pepper spray, she needed to show she got as well as she gave.

Rolling over, I pulled my legs under me and pushed up against the wall, “Stay down!” Mika screamed, but she wasn’t moving and I wasn’t giving up this opportunity. With a scream, I kicked off the wall and drove my forehead down, right at the bridge of Queen’s nose.

Pepper-Mace hissed out again. Mika didn’t know I had been hit with it recently and had come to grips with the burning madness. Besides, with my face pointed away from the spray, nothing was stopping my attack.

CRUNCH!

Queen must have turned her head because I nailed her right in the upper jaw, the same place she’d hit me, almost. But I had all my weight and the help of my legs to power my strike. Queen’s squalls stopped as, stunned, she felt the blow and didn’t know how to handle it, but I wasn’t done.

With her down I went to my knees and leaned back, then dropped forward again, aiming for her face and finding my mark with precision. Her nose collapsed under the attack, and I could feel her front teeth bit into my forehead just before they caved to the pressure.

Mika drew back and punt-kicked me into the ribs, lifting me off Queen and sending me hard to the wall. “Break it up!” She screamed as she regained control. At the same time, the door to the cellblock opened and several big men rushed in with stun batons. The batons cracked and popped as the men in blue flooded in, none caring an ounce that neither of us was fighting anymore. They were hands of order conformity, and both Queen and I had upset that. For our blood, we both got to ride the electric highway.