The sound of the klaxon rebounded off the walls of the tiny cell. Bethany Chalice was visibly shaken by the blaring sound, Dice noticed. The sound no longer bothered him. like so many things to do with the prison he was cold to it. He waited patiently while the soft-side guards came and collected the doctor. He waved his manacled hands in her general direction as she was led from the room and then settled back in anticipation of the firm, vice-like grip of the tough-side oderlies who would escort him back to his cell – once it was considered safe in the prison grounds and along the walkways of course. The last time the general alarm sounded it was because Mad Dog escaped. That crazy bastard managed to kill five guards before they brought him down. They didn’t kill him; he was far to important to the research wing. The Dog could pull as many wings off as many flies as he liked and he’d always be returned to the comfort of this cell with a pat on the back and an admonishing word from the governor. Not suprisingly, the guards were a little less eager to get out and do their thing when the alarm went these days, just in case it was Mad Dog on another rampage.

“We’ll pick this up later.” Dr Chalice gave Dice a nervous smile as her escort hurried her to clear her things into a hold all. For his part Dice gave her a nod. There was no point telling her that there wasn’t snowball-in-hell’s chance that they would resume today. She was quite sweet he had dicided. Sweet in a I-think-I-know-the-way-things-work-but-haven’t-actually-got-a-clue kind of a way. She had a great butt too the soldier decided as she was led from the room.

They didn’t come and get him until five minutes later, after the alarm had stopped. He heard the bolt slide in the door, followed by the screeching of steel as the hingles protested against the weight of the huge door. He didn’t bother to turn and acknowledge McGreavy and Stain – or Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum as he and the other inmates liked to refer to them. “Nice of you boys to come fetch me . . . finally.”

“Shut it Dice.” Ordered Stain. Or was it McGreavy; it was so hard to tell. The pair were so similar they might have been brothers, and maybe they were but they definitely didn’t share the same father. They both placed a vice-like grip on each of his elbows, squeezing a little too tightly Dice felt. Not for the last time Dice wondered what it would be like to pummel these two into the ground in a fair fight in a locked room. “Let’s go.’