Chapter 7 

The Visit Underground

The underground prison echoed with the sounds of crying, nightmarish screams, and soft sobbing. Max lay unconscious on the cold cell floor, slowly stirring as the noise penetrated her foggy mind. Her head throbbed as she sat up, squinting through the haze.

She scanned her surroundings, noting the other prisoners: women, beaten and in tattered clothes, locked in cells stretching as far as she could see. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed her situation like a soldier.

"Okay, soldier. Get up," she murmured to herself, wobbling to her feet. She noticed the electronic ankle shackle and knelt to tug at it.

"Don't bother with that thing, girl," a voice called from a nearby cell.

Max spun around to see a woman, Jackie, watching her through the bars. "Why not? It's a free country," Max retorted.

Jackie chuckled wryly. "That's an interesting choice of words, considering you're in jail."

Max's face hardened. "I don't belong here. I didn't do anything."

"None of us did, except be at the wrong place at the wrong time or accept the kindness of strangers," Jackie said, her words resonating with Max.

Max looked away, lost in thought. "So, they got you like that too, huh? Don't be embarrassed; girls who are more street-savvy than you got caught the same way are kicking themselves daily. Don’t do any good, though."

Max tugged at the electronic shackle again, more eagerly this time.

"That device around your ankle is a tamper-resistant electronic bomb," Jackie warned. "Unless you have a spare leg someplace, I suggest you leave it alone."

Max stopped, frustration and determination warring in her eyes. She shared a look of angst with Jackie.

Logan furiously typed away on his computer when Bling entered, noticing his friend's tension.

"Logan, you're looking kind of spooked. What's up?" Bling asked.

Logan pounded his fist on the keyboard in frustration. "The signal is stagnant and weak. Max hasn't moved for five hours, but the signal is damped like she's underground. I don't know if it's the equipment, but something weird is happening."

"So give me the coordinates. I'll swoop in, pick the ole girl up, and call it a day. No need to press a dead issue," Bling suggested.

Logan nodded and began typing again. Suddenly, the cat, Ruth, jumped onto the desk, knocking over Logan's coffee into the computer. The machine sparked and smoked as Logan wheeled himself out of harm's way. Bling grabbed a fire extinguisher and doused the flames. Ruth darted off into another room.

Logan and Bling looked at each other through the smoke, a shared understanding passing between them. 

"What do we do now?"