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Dead and Buryd, Page 2

Chele Cooke


  ***

 

  It was almost an hour before Georgianna sighed, slumping back on her heels. She reached up, about to rub her fingers wearily into her eyes when she realised that they were covered in blood. Pushing herself up, she stepped to the basin in the corner of the cell, twisting the tap until tepid water spurted angrily from the spout beneath.

  “Med, what you doing?” Owain, one of the inmates, asked from his spot on the other side of the bars.

  She scrubbed the stains from her hands, thinking of what to say. Owain had been rather vocal throughout, always asking questions, telling her the story of how it had happened. The prisoner, Jace, currently sprawled across the flimsy mattress, had gotten into a disagreement with Vajra and Ta Dao, two of the more powerful men within the compound. Though the guards ruled the compound, these men ran the block once the doors were closed. Jace had apparently refused to bow to one of their strict rules and his injuries were their punishment for his disobedience.

  As soon as the lock had fallen into place after count, they’d come for Jace. They’d hurt him just enough so that it would be a long, painful death before he was found the next morning. Jace had not died before count thanks to the quiet help of a couple of the inmates, Owain included. However, from Owain’s constant quiet chatter, Georgianna had realised that most likely, those who had helped Jace might be the next to receive a visit once the block door slid closed.

  Once her hands were clean, she turned to look at Owain, frowning when she saw his hopeful gaze.

  “There’s nothing more for me to do,” she answered. “I’ve done all I can for the wounds, but he was left too long. Infection has gotten in. I only have two options now, to give him drugs to make it easier, or see if he can fight it off.”

  Owain glanced both ways as Georgianna dried her hands on her trousers. For a moment, Owain watched Jace, a frown knitting his brow as he finally nodded.

  “Give him the drugs,” he said slowly.

  “You don’t…”

  “Just give him the drugs!”

  Owain’s voice was stronger, rougher, and she knew better than to argue. While Owain had been kind to her during her visit, she had no doubts that he knew how to deal with those who weren’t helping his friend. He had the look of a man who had been in the compound for a while. He probably knew what happened to those who couldn’t fight off infection within these walls.

  Finally, Georgianna nodded, crouching and digging into her bag for the small bag of pills she hated using most.