The Undergrounders: Volume I

21

Undergrounders were accustomed to possessing very little, but the unit used to jail Ryker had nothing but a thin bedroll on the floor, a partitioned area with a toilet, and a small wash basin. Anything sharp, heavy, or that which could be used as a type of weapon had been removed, including linens or furniture. No table, chair, nothing.

Ryker sat against the corner on his worn bedroll, resting his forearms on his crossed legs. He barely acknowledged Kanden or his mother with a cursory glance, and he completely ignored Olivine.

Taking in the sparse room, Kanden frowned. "Where is everything?"

"We needed somewhere to place the prisoners," she replied, blasé to the inhumane conditions.

"But it's empty."

Olivine's features curled into a sneer as her steely gaze sought to suck the warmth from the room. "So? They're criminals. Why do they get to enjoy comforts while the rest of us mourn and bust our asses with extra work?"

"It's barbaric," he snapped, curling his fists. "We are not going to become monsters."

Dropping her voice, she growled into his ear, "This wouldn't have happened if they hadn't incited that violence. They are guilty; not us. He and anyone else who encouraged the people to react violently deserve to rot."

Kanden held his breath and stopped himself from lashing out. Ryker often said the same about the Elites; the only difference was he had joined the losing side. Kanden could have easily been in his place if Father hadn't survived. Instead of Ryker forced in this prison, it would have been him huddled in the corner on a bedroll.

"We don't know what he did," he retorted, putting space between them. He wanted to tell her to keep her biased opinions to herself, but he couldn't say with any certainty if her peers shared her sentiments. There had been rumors in the past of Enforcers trying to beat a confession out of people, but again, it was all hearsay. But her attitude indicated some of those previously executed might not have been guilty of their perceived crimes.

Rumi watched the change behind a wary mask, tucking her hands into her long sleeves. A few seconds into their pause, she said, "May we have chairs? My knees aren't what they used to be, and Kanden shouldn't be aggravating his injury."

When Olivine rolled her eyes and strode to the door to speak mumbled instructions to the guards, Rumi whispered, "Sometimes, it is best not to cross fire with fire. Show a little respect, even if the other person doesn't deserve it."

He was about to ask what that had to do with chairs when Olivine and the guards brought in a quartet of chairs. All showed signs of wear and tear, but only one wobbled, which they predictably placed beside the bedroll. As the two sentries shuffled back to their post at the door, Olivine addressed Ryker and pointed to the unbalanced seat. "Get up, and don't try anything. I'm not crawling to your level to speak, you understand?"

Ryker rolled his eyes but used the wall to heave himself up and take the rickety chair, keeping his hands in sight at all times. As Kanden, Rumi, and Olivine sat across from him, he scoffed. "I'd welcome you to my humble shithole, but it appears you've already made yourself comfortable."

Pink burst across Olivine's cheeks, making the rest of her skin appear translucent in the dim lighting. Aside from her visible annoyance, she didn't take the bait as she took a comfortable stance and planted her feet on the floor. "If I were you, I'd cooperate. You're lucky the younger Calvorite took pity on you."

The younger Calvorite is right here, you stupid bitch.

A gentle touch from Rumi's steady hand doused Kanden's inner fire before he could blurt something he'd later regret. She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head as if she'd read his mind, nonverbally commanding him, Don't.