by Caro Savage
‘A little bit more, Muscles.’
Muscles increased the force of her grip. Bailey flailed uselessly and started to feel herself going dizzy. She tried in vain to prise Muscles’ fingers from her neck, but it was no good. She batted at her huge thick forearms to no avail. Muscles’ face was expressionless.
‘She’s gone the colour of a tomato,’ said Rong with a snigger.
‘I think her eyes are going to pop right out of her head,’ said Keisha in a tone of mild observational interest.
‘Let go, Muscles,’ said Toni.
Muscles relaxed her grip and Bailey collapsed to her knees on the ground hyperventilating.
‘Pick her up, Muscles.’
Muscles gripped hold of Bailey’s collar and yanked her to her feet. Toni gestured for her to step back and Muscles stepped back and stood there, her huge arms slack by her side.
Toni stepped forward, right up close to Bailey, almost nose to nose.
‘Do you know what we call ourselves?’ she said.
‘You’re the Ace Blade Crew,’ said Bailey, fighting to keep her voice from stammering.
Toni nodded slowly, a thin smile spreading across her face as she reached behind her and pulled a home-made shank from her waistband. It was little more than a sharpened sliver of metal with the handle bound with tape, but Bailey could see that it was quite capable of inflicting serious damage.
Keisha and Rong both reached behind them and also pulled out knives. The three crudely fashioned blades sparkled in the sunlight. A thought flashed through Bailey’s mind – was this the last thing Alice had seen before she was murdered?
The three of them pressed up against her, leaning in, their faces twisted in hostile grimaces. She felt the points of their knives digging into different parts of her body – her stomach, her chest, her neck.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ said Toni.
‘Where the fuck are you from?’ said Keisha.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ said Rong.
Bailey cowered beneath them, frozen, not daring to move for fear of puncturing herself on their shanks.
‘We’re going to fuck you up unless you start answering our questions,’ said Toni.
Bailey could feel beads of sweat rolling down her face.
‘My name’s Bailey Pike, I come from London, and I want to hang out with you guys because…’ she paused to think of a reason and they leaned in even closer ‘…because you’re cool.’
She bit her lip, realising in retrospect that it sounded a bit lame, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances.
‘Because we’re cool?’ said Toni, her face morphing into an expression of absolute disdain. The three of them swapped derisory glances, shaking their heads in disbelief.
Toni drew back her lips, revealing her gold tooth, which glinted in the afternoon sun. It took Bailey a few moments to realise that it was a smile, but one that was devoid of any warmth.
‘Well, that was a clever little move you pulled back there, jumping off the balcony. I suppose you think I should be thanking you. The thing is though… you could be a snitch for all we know. All that could just have been a set-up, just so you could ingratiate yourself with us.’
The three of them glowered at her, the sharp points of their knives pressing into her even harder.
‘Tell us why you’re really here,’ hissed Toni.
Bailey’s blood turned cold as fear seeped through her veins. Had she made a massive misjudgement? Had she underestimated their powers of perception? Had Alice made the same mistake? Was she about to end up the same way?
She gritted her teeth and held eye contact with Toni. Toni was clearly a sociopath – the mildly amicable front was a thin facade behind which dwelt a ruthless, highly intelligent and very paranoid individual. She’d encountered people like this before as a police officer and she knew just how dangerous and unpredictable they could be.
She took a deep breath, willing the steel from within. To reveal any sign of weakness right now would be fatal.
‘Fuck you,’ she snarled. ‘I’m no snitch.’
Toni raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Oh yeah? So why did you help me then?’
These were people who didn’t help anyone. To them it was a pathological behaviour.
‘Like you said, maybe I just want to sit at your table.’
Toni smiled and laughed softly. ‘Not just anyone can join our gang. No, I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy.’ She crossed her arms and smiled sadistically. ‘No. First, you’ve got to prove yourself.’
‘Prove myself how?’
‘Blood in. Blood out. Know what that means?’
Bailey didn’t know exactly what it meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it.
‘“Blood in” means that in order to get in, blood has to be shed,’ said Toni. ‘Either your blood or someone else’s.’ She pointed to an inmate slouching across the yard. The inmate had a thin wan look about her. ‘See her? She’s a snitch. A bit too matey with the guards. No moral compass, if you know what I mean.’
Bailey watched the hapless inmate walk across the yard puffing on a roll-up. She had seen her previously in the canteen, sitting alone with no mates.
‘You’re going to shank her with this blade.’ Toni said matter-of-factly.
She looked down and saw Toni had flipped the shank in her hand so she was offering the handle to Bailey. She felt her policewoman’s principles rise to the surface. There was no way that she could justify stabbing an innocent person, even though technically no one was innocent in here. At any rate, doing anything illegal undercover could risk destroying the entire operation if it surfaced later in court.
‘You either shank her or you face a beating from us,’ said Toni. ‘Either way, blood has to be spilt if you want to get in. Yours or hers. What’s it going to be?’
Bailey knew she only had one choice. And it wasn’t looking good.
‘You know what I think?’ said Bailey.
‘What’s that?’
‘You didn’t say the magic word.’
Bailey took a deep breath and punched Toni in the face.
Toni staggered backwards but quickly regained her balance. She looked astounded that Bailey had actually hit her, as did the others. A small dribble of blood oozed from her left nostril. She slowly brought her finger up to wipe it off. She looked at the smear of blood on her finger. Then she looked at Bailey. A strange empty crazy look came over her face.
Bailey gulped and braced herself.
And then all four of them simultaneously laid into her. Their blows rained down on her, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through her body. She felt them punching her in the face, the ribs, the back, the stomach, and there was no way she could parry all of their blows at the same time.
She swung out blindly, making contact, hearing grunts of discomfort. But the force was overwhelming as they pummelled her into submission.
She crumpled down onto the ground, putting up her hands and arms to try and protect her head. And the last thing she remembered seeing was Muscles’ huge trainer-shod foot coming towards her face.
And then blackness.
32
Bailey woke up and opened her eyes. Or at least she tried to, but the left one wouldn’t open properly for some reason. Through her semi-blurred vision, she could deduce that she was lying in a bed in a whitewashed pristine room that was definitely not her cell. Where was she?
The sheets felt crisp and clean and the room smelt faintly of disinfectant and chlorine. It was quiet, apart from the odd sound of a door opening and closing, but there seemed to be something wrong with her hearing. The sounds appeared to be coming from a long distance away, as if she was standing at the other end of a tunnel.
Her thoughts were scattered and confused and she couldn’t quite get them to gel coherently in her head in order to work out what was going on.
She looked down. Just that small movement of her head sent a sharp jagged pain through h
er neck. She shifted slightly in the bed and her entire body responded in the same way. It hurt all over.
What the hell had happened to her?
She noticed that the white sheets were stained with blood.
Now it was coming back to her.
Blood in…
She was in the prison hospital. That’s where she was.
Bailey turned her head slowly from left to right, wincing as she did so. She was the only person in the ward. The other beds were neatly made and empty. The place seemed remarkably clean, lacking the signature grime and decay which marked the rest of the prison.
Concussion. That was the reason she couldn’t think straight. That was the reason for the weird thing with the sounds.
She gingerly touched her eye with her forefinger. It was tender and sore. That was why she couldn’t see through it properly – because it was all swollen up.
Bailey looked around for a mirror, but there wasn’t one in the room, which was probably a blessing.
She ran her tongue around her teeth. They were all still there, thank god, but at least one of them was loose enough for her to wiggle it with her tongue.
Slowly, methodically, she checked the rest of her body. She appeared to have a cut lip, multiple bruises on her forehead, and her ribs… Jesus her ribcage felt like—
The door to the ward swung open. She looked up. It was Amber. As soon as Amber saw her, her jaw fell open with shock. Bailey had no need for a mirror – Amber’s expression said it all.
‘You look awful,’ whispered Amber.
‘I feel awful,’ she said hoarsely.
Amber sat down gently on the side of her bed.
‘I want you to tell me who did it,’ she said, her eyes smouldering with fury.
Bailey knew that Amber had her best interests at heart. She was just doing her job and she meant well. But to reveal who’d beaten her up would be to undo everything that she had just worked so hard to achieve.
Bailey shook her head. ‘Nobody. I just slipped and fell.’
Amber rolled her eyes in frustration.
‘You slipped and fell?’ She sounded very sceptical.
Bailey shrugged and nodded. ‘What can I say? I’m just clumsy.’
Amber placed a caring hand on her forearm. ‘Don’t be afraid, Bailey. Don’t be intimidated by the bullies in here. We can protect you from them. We can put you in segregation.’
‘What? With all the sickos and the snitches?’
‘There’s no shame in being a snitch.’
‘Maybe not to you, but on my side of the bars there is.’
Bailey had worked undercover long enough to know that criminals regarded snitches as the lowest of the low. Admitting to being one was tantamount to signing your own death warrant.
‘I’m worried about you,’ said Amber.
‘I can handle myself.’
‘Are you sure?’ Amber didn’t look convinced.
Bailey turned her head away to signal that she wasn’t going to reveal anything more.
Amber sighed and stood up. ‘Just remember, I’m around if you need me.’
She headed to the exit of the ward. Just as she got there, the doors swung open and Toni and Keisha swaggered in. Amber stopped and fixed them with a stern stare. They passed slowly by her, defiantly staring back.
Amber glanced back at Bailey with concern. She seemed to know it was them who were responsible. She must have recalled what had happened in the canteen that time she had intervened.
She stood there for a few moments. Bailey gave her a small nod to indicate that she would be fine. She sighed again and shot Bailey one last anxious look and then left the ward.
Toni sat down on one side of her bed. Keisha sat down on the other side.
Bailey swallowed, her body tense. For a moment she wondered if they were going to finish her off, lying here, vulnerable as she was. Toni could easily slide a shank into her right here in the hospital bed.
Toni held her head poised upright, listening for the sound of the outer swing doors to the ward closing, ensuring that Amber was well out of earshot. Then she looked down at Bailey and broke into a wide grin, her gold tooth glinting.
‘Welcome to our little club,’ she said.
Bailey forced a weak smile. A mixture of relief and joy surged through her, momentarily eclipsing the pain. She was in. Her ploy had worked.
‘You took your beating well,’ said Keisha, nodding in admiration. ‘When I saw Muscles lay into you, I thought you were a goner, but it appears you’re tougher than you look.’
Toni’s smile dropped off her face and she went serious again. She leaned into Bailey, gazing deep into her eyes. ‘Just remember what I said though. Blood in. Blood out.’
‘You never told me what “blood out” meant.’ Although she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know right now.
‘It means that, now you’re in, you can’t ever leave. The only way out is by dying, by spilling your blood. So if you want to leave, just let us know and we’ll be more than pleased to help you out on that front.’
Bailey nodded, trying to look like it didn’t bother her. What had she gotten herself into?
‘Sounds pretty straightforward to me.’
Toni scrutinised her thoughtfully. ‘It’s kind of fortuitous that you joined us when you did,’ she said. ‘Seeing as we’re shy of one member.’
A dirty look passed between Toni and Keisha. Bailey wondered what Toni meant, but she didn’t ask them to elaborate. It was a bit too early to start asking questions, particularly as she had the feeling that the answers wouldn’t make very pleasant listening.
33
All in all, Bailey spent three days in hospital recovering from her injuries before the prison’s medical staff felt reassured that she had improved sufficiently to be released back into the prison population. All the while she lay in the ward, her mind was riven with concerns that she had been out of contact with Frank and was wasting valuable time, but she managed to assuage her worries to a certain extent with the knowledge that all of this was ultimately serving a valuable purpose in helping to insinuate her with the gang.
By the time she was released, her black eye had gone down considerably, the other bruises had started to fade and the multiple aches and pains had subsided to the extent that she could move around without wincing too much. It turned out, fortunately, that none of her ribs had been broken and her tooth was fine, but she had required several stitches for the cut in her lip; the stitches would apparently fall out of their own accord within the next few days as the wound healed.
On leaving the hospital, she made her way across the prison yard in the direction of the phones to call Frank. The sun was shining brightly and she welcomed its warmth on her face. She felt like she hadn’t been outside in ages. The weather seemed summery and she recalled that the calendar in the hospital had read 31 May. Summer was indeed almost upon them. She worked out that she had been incarcerated for just over two weeks now, although it felt like much longer.
Bailey had got about halfway across the yard when the gang appeared out of nowhere to intercept her. They closed in around her in a menacing fashion, Muscles looming up behind them, blocking out the sun. Bailey held herself upright and tried not to look scared.
‘It’s not quite over yet,’ said Toni.
Bailey’s stomach turned over for fear of what might be next. She prayed it wasn’t going to be a repeat of what they’d just put her through. Or worse.
‘Yeah,’ said Keisha. ‘We’ve got to get you inked up.’
Poppy was a member of the gang Bailey hadn’t met before – a biker goth with pale skin and large green eyes, her black hair cut in a ragged fringe with a shaved undercut. She wore a dark grey vest which revealed numerous tattoos of a particularly striking quality. A psychedelic Day of the Dead skull ornamented with multi-hued flowers dominated her upper left arm, while a rattlesnake coiled down the entire length of her right arm. She had a knuckleduster engraved on the side of her neck an
d Bailey could make out some kind of French writing etched in an antique font across the top of her chest. The writing looked elegant, pretty even, but Bailey suspected its sentiments didn’t match its style.
She sat on the chair in the cell, one knee up under her chin, observing Bailey, while the rest of the gang filed out, leaving just the two of them in there.
Poppy’s cell was situated on the very top floor of C-Wing at the far end of the landing. From this high up, it was possible to see over the prison wall, to see the countryside which lay beyond – a patchwork of fields and woods and the blue expanse of a nearby reservoir. The cell felt akin to an eyrie and Poppy some kind of exotic beautiful bird which dwelt there.
Poppy eyed Bailey up and down, scrutinising her body with the professional detached eye of a craftsman. She looked serious, stern even.
‘Take off your clothes,’ she said, unsmiling.
Knowing there was no easy way out of this, Bailey obeyed, pulling off her shoes, then removing her trousers and then her vest, until she was standing there just in her underwear.
‘And the bra,’ said Poppy.
She took off her bra and dropped it on the floor on top of her other clothes. She crossed her arms across her breasts. Bailey’s modesty elicited a small glint of amusement in Poppy’s eyes.
‘Turn around.’
Bailey turned around slowly, three hundred and sixty degrees. She could feel Poppy’s eyes on her, an intense penetrating gaze, inspecting every inch of her body.
Poppy raised her eyebrows. ‘Mmm… no tattoos. Unusual.’
It was true – almost every inmate Bailey had seen in here had a tattoo of one form or another.
‘I could never think of anything I wanted engraved on my body for eternity.’
Poppy gazed at the lattice of scars with interest. Bailey dropped her arms to reveal the scars in their entirety.
Poppy frowned. ‘Did you do those yourself?’
‘I’m not the self-harming type.’
Poppy nodded slowly as if forming some unspoken opinion about her.