Suddenly two of the cell doors behind us sprung open, with their scruffy-looking occupants peering out to see what was happening. 'Carney, it's time.'
We'd picked up the pace the moment the doors opened but stopped at the next intersection to see if we were being followed. And unfortunately, we were. It seemed there was but one other way out of this place, and these inmates somehow knew it too.
Carney was around seven feet tall, with muscular arms like tree trunks and a shaved head covered with spider tattoos, and he didn't even wait for his cell neighbour to venture out before he began knocking on every still-sealed door. 'What's the matter, Ponca? Did someone forget about you?' He was still laughing when he stopped at another cell, three doors down. 'Hebbon? Why isn't yours-'
