Quietly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself. “Come on out here, boys,” shouted the guard, chuckling. “Can’t leave the boys unattended.” Quiggly didn’t move. “All right, I’ll have to come and find you.” The guard’s gruff, familiar voice took the form of a young man who strolled up to Quiggly and took a seat on the edge of the ledge, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. “Now, how would you boys like a little party with a couple of the girls?” he asked. “They’ve got some of the boys over at a room down the hall. They’ll be in no mood for being quiet. And who knows, maybe they’ll make a few trades, if you have the right gear.” “You’re going to get us killed,” Quiggly said in a hollow voice. “You don’t understand. There are people out there who know your face. The people you work for. If they find us here….” The man took a long drag on his cigarette. His face was like a stone. “Is this about that little girl?” he asked. “My people know you were watching her, spying on us. Now you’re going to have to pay the price for that. This will hurt. They’re going to make you pay.” Quiggly took a step towards the ledge, his feet sinking into the soft ground of the ledge and causing him to falter. The man flicked his cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out. “Get out of my way, punk.” He pushed Quiggly onto the ledge. He staggered backwards, tripped over the railings and fell backwards. The guard caught him by the collar and punched him square in the face. Floating above the scene, Quiggly watched as the guard dragged Quiggly away by his collar, out of sight of the window, then shoved him into the ground with a foot placed on the back of his neck. The guard stomped on his foot. Quiggly tried to get back up, but couldn’t. Something told him he was in trouble. A large hand reached down into the earth and the guard picked up Quiggly by the neck, heaved him out of the ground and let him dangle in the air. The man’s hands tightened around Quiggly’s throat. “Is this you looking to get yourself some friends over here? We’re taking care of you the best we can.” The guard squeezed Quiggly’s neck. “You ever mess with us again, and I’ll make you wish the girls really were in here. Understand?” Quiggly tried to say something, but the guard slammed his head into the stone ground. Quiggly saw stars. The guard threw him back into the ground and lifted him out again. Quiggly coughed as blood ran down his face. The pain in his arms and legs was like electric shocks. He thought he was dead. The guard pulled him close and punched him in the jaw again. Quiggly’s head rattled with the blow. “Are you okay? I know a lot of people who can really hurt you.” Quiggly could hardly breathe. He tried to speak but could barely form words. “What are we going to do?” he asked. The man put his gun back in its holster. “Hey, if this isn’t going to work out, we can always just call it off.” He pulled the pistol from his holster and pointed it at Quiggly’s forehead. “There’s no use in this….” A man ran up to the ledge. “You can’t do that!” he said, breathless. “Those boys up there, I’m telling you. They’re waiting for just that.” The guard scowled and lowered his gun. “What boys?” “Look, if you want to make yourself look good to Mr. Warden, you can do it. Just not here. Or you won’t get promoted. I’m telling you. The boys in the barracks are going to be doing some pretty big things.” He stepped up to Quiggly and stared him in the face. “This isn’t you.” The guard nodded. “And this is Mr. Warden’s little boy over here. We should probably, uh, send him in to the boys in the barracks. Show them that we can be friendly to them.” He smiled. “Do what you have to do, but not here.” He winked at Quiggly. “Yeah. You do that. I’ll let ‘em know you’re coming, then.” The man disappeared into the darkness, leaving Quiggly staring up at the stars. He could barely breathe. If he was going to die, he was glad that the man had at least told the truth about Mr. Warden. At least this guy knew a lot of people he couldn’t help. That was the only good thing he could think of. The man could be useful to him, but only if they were careful, or could think of some reason to bring the man to their cause. Perhaps if Mr. Warden was unhappy with the work being done in the prison, he could put pressure on the man… No, the man could use that kind of pressure on him to make sure the men they wanted, the men they needed, were all working in the same place. No. Their only option was to break him out, and as soon as possible. There was too much they needed to know. Quiggly saw the man appear at the entrance. He was a short, stocky man, with a long scar that made his eyes look all the more sinister. Quiggly didn’t like the way the man looked at him. He had seen that look before. The guard held out his hand, signaling that the man should come closer. The man stepped up onto the ledge. Quiggly could see the man’s eyes, narrowed in hatred, on him. He looked away. “It’s nice to meet you,” Quiggly said. The man laughed. “You’re a fucking weird little man. What do you want?” Quiggly shook his head. “We’re all trying to get away from Mr. Warden. We’re going to need your help.” “You’ve got quite the mouth. Or is that your nose?” The man stepped closer. The guard let out a short whistle from the bottom of the ledge. “I think he’s going to work out just fine.” “You don’t have anything I want.” The man pulled a pistol from his belt. “Wait!” Quiggly shouted. “We’re… We’re friends. We can help each other.” The man laughed. “I already know who you are, you piece of shit. You’re Quiggly Jones. And you’re just like all the rest of your kind.” “Maybe, but you’ve got to see. The men we’re with, they’re doing work for Mr. Warden. He needs people like me and them to bring the supplies to the prison. It’s work, not a party. It’s really important.” The man leaned forward. “See, Mr. Warden, I told you I could work with you. The more I see of you, the more I think you’re just like any of your kind, always looking for a way to get something for yourself.” He smiled. “But you know, I have a rule that I think could help you. If you work for me, I have to work for you. If we work together, we can all get out of here.” Quiggly shook his head. “I told you, I can’t join you. I told you why we’re here. If you want to kill me, you can do it right here. But if you don’t, Mr. Warden needs me. And all my friends. We’re working for a better way to live, and to survive.” The man laughed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Mr. Warden doesn’t care about you. He’ll get rid of you the minute he can. Like he’ll get rid of me, if I don’t do a better job.” He stared at Quiggly. “But don’t think about giving me any information about your friend. No matter what happens. Your choice.” He walked down the ledge. The other man smiled. “You heard the man. I didn’t even know you were on the ledge. Let’s go to my office and have a drink while you decide what you’re going to do. I know a nice bar.” The guard looked out over the town, over the city. Quiggly could see it all, spread out in front of him like a grand painting. The people moved across it, some going through the gates into the prison, others heading into the town. He looked at the empty city and felt strangely alone. “I never thought I