Post by Billy Bush on Jun 9, 2024 0:26:15 GMT -5
“Until you are picked up by our contact at The Sector you are still property of the California DOC. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” grunted Billy.
“Yes what inmate?”
Billy scowled. “Yes sir.”
“That's better. Until you are handed off you will remain silent, you will remain still and you will do what you are told when you are told. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“I've been briefed on your special gifts. Sounds like bullshit to me but just in case it isn't, you should know that the men escorting you are all armed with a high caliber, semi-automatic rifles that have been loaded with armor piercing rounds. If you speak without being spoken to they will shoot. If you move with out being told they will shoot. If you so much as fart in a way the smells suspicious they will shoot. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, you're not as stupid as you look.”
It was 4 am when the armored prisoner transport vehicle pulled up outside the barbed wire gates of Sector HQ before the sun had even risen. Hours earlier Billy had been yanked out of his cell and, after a strip search and a pleasant little lecture from the warden, stuffed into the back of the truck.
The upside was that he'd been given a freshly cleaned, bright orange jump suit. Somebody wanted him to look nice for his meeting he mused. The downside was that the new uniform came with some jewelry.
Solid bar cuffs were shackled to his ankles and wrists and a metal collar was slapped around his thick neck. A heavy metal chain was then attached from the bar on his ankles to the bar on his wrists. Then another chain was run from the top of his wrists to his collar. Combined the chains had just enough length for the massive man to stand up as long as he hunched over and bent his knees a bit.
Billy Bush had no idea how far they'd driven from the prison to get to the HQ or how long the trip had really taken. He was too tired from sleep deprivation, and too lost in thought with too many mixed emotions about too many things to worry about the unimportant details. They would tell him when they got there.
Besides, even if he wanted to, it wasn't like he could look out the window to see where he was going. The nervous looking nineteen year old with the twitchy looking trigger finger had explicitly told him to keep his eyes on the floor. All he could see was the dull gray, diamond patterned platting beneath him.
As the truck slowly came to a stop and steady rumble of the engine ended Billy heard the driver call someone over the truck's CB radio. He figured it was the Sector agents who were supposed to pick him up. There were only two words Billy could make out clearly.
“He's here.”
“Yeah,” grunted Billy.
“Yes what inmate?”
Billy scowled. “Yes sir.”
“That's better. Until you are handed off you will remain silent, you will remain still and you will do what you are told when you are told. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“I've been briefed on your special gifts. Sounds like bullshit to me but just in case it isn't, you should know that the men escorting you are all armed with a high caliber, semi-automatic rifles that have been loaded with armor piercing rounds. If you speak without being spoken to they will shoot. If you move with out being told they will shoot. If you so much as fart in a way the smells suspicious they will shoot. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, you're not as stupid as you look.”
It was 4 am when the armored prisoner transport vehicle pulled up outside the barbed wire gates of Sector HQ before the sun had even risen. Hours earlier Billy had been yanked out of his cell and, after a strip search and a pleasant little lecture from the warden, stuffed into the back of the truck.
The upside was that he'd been given a freshly cleaned, bright orange jump suit. Somebody wanted him to look nice for his meeting he mused. The downside was that the new uniform came with some jewelry.
Solid bar cuffs were shackled to his ankles and wrists and a metal collar was slapped around his thick neck. A heavy metal chain was then attached from the bar on his ankles to the bar on his wrists. Then another chain was run from the top of his wrists to his collar. Combined the chains had just enough length for the massive man to stand up as long as he hunched over and bent his knees a bit.
Billy Bush had no idea how far they'd driven from the prison to get to the HQ or how long the trip had really taken. He was too tired from sleep deprivation, and too lost in thought with too many mixed emotions about too many things to worry about the unimportant details. They would tell him when they got there.
Besides, even if he wanted to, it wasn't like he could look out the window to see where he was going. The nervous looking nineteen year old with the twitchy looking trigger finger had explicitly told him to keep his eyes on the floor. All he could see was the dull gray, diamond patterned platting beneath him.
As the truck slowly came to a stop and steady rumble of the engine ended Billy heard the driver call someone over the truck's CB radio. He figured it was the Sector agents who were supposed to pick him up. There were only two words Billy could make out clearly.
“He's here.”