|[ DEATH'S APPRENTICE ]|

[Chapter Eleven]

Metal bars pressed painfully into my ribcage. I could hear Malik breathing beside me, as well as seeing his breaths fog up in the cold. We had made our way to the guards' building, my cold hands and feet occasionally slipping on the smooth roof. Through the bars I could see two officers talking, wearing the signatory blue-grey uniform with an intricate eye symbol stitched over their breasts. They both had a sword strapped at the side and a gun held in a holster across their chest.

"What do we do?" I breathed quietly, resisting the urge to move and stretch. Lying down on a grate in the roof of a prison was not the most comfortable thing to do and I could feel my body begin to reject the position.

"We need to find out the cell number that Adam is being kept in." he edged his hand down between the bars and moved to open the glass window below it. "We can't waste time and risk being seen searching every cell. We've already lost an hour since I knocked out those men. Only an hour to go."

I bit my lip, halting my breathing. If we made one noise too loud those Officers would know we were here. The alarm would be rung and we would have to fight our way to Adam, or flee. Either way I would have to kill. If we could just grab Adam and leave... Minimal – hell, no – casualties were my goal.

Malik managed to hook a finger around the latch that opened the window. The hinge swung inwards and for a moment time seemed to stop. But the officers noticed anything – they were too busy talking and shuffling the cards between them. They sat at a small table, dice and chips scattered over it.

"...What did he do, exactly?" the one shuffling the cards asked, his hands moving with practiced speed. His companion didn't answer for a second, leaning back in his chair to glare into the unseen. There was the loud bang of metal and I flinched, looking for the noise.

"Quiet, you!" the second man barked, shaking a finger menacingly at an unseen person

"There must be a few cells in there with them." Malik hissed almost inaudibly. I nodded without speaking, refusing to peel my eyes away from the scene below. A moment later he faced back as he was dealt his cards.

"What did who do?" he asked roughly, picking up his cards and viewing them.

"That kid they brought in a few days ago... Epping's younger brother." The dealer looked down at his own cards, placing the rest in a stack in the centre of the table. He began to evenly share the chips. "Epping says that he is a traitor." Shrugged the second guard nonchalantly, "There's no proof, of course. But... well they're brothers. Maybe it's just a ploy to keep his spot as Leader."

"Can he really do that though?" the first officer asked softly, "Lock his brother up in a prison without proof?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." The second man said indifferently, "I get paid to keep 'im in there and to keep 'im quiet. And so I will do It." he turned to glare in the direction of where the cells were, "Pitiful though, isn't he? Didn't even put up a fight when they brought 'im in. I'd say he is a traitor and he knew he'd be coming here."

"Where did they lock him up?" the first officer asked curiously, "Surely he'll only be here for another week until Epping has him released."

"I wouldn't be too sure. They threw 'im into the high security cells. I don't know why – he didn't put up a fight coming here – I doubt he will try to leave." The officer shrugged, "Oh well. I just do what I get paid for – no questions."

"Sometimes I wonder if the money is worth it..." the first guard sighed deeply, grabbing the dice and tossing it over the table.

"Don't be muttering that when Epping visits," his friend said seriously, "Or you'll end up in here too." They fell into silence as their game began, cards being exchanged between hands, and bargaining chips being pushed to and fro.