53: Ryann
Ryann
The prisoners were terrified. The fear burnt in their traces, but it also showed in the way they recoiled when Keelin ripped open the bars of the door to their cell. Some stared, wide-eyed, with trembling lips. Others looked to their feet as they backed against the far wall of the cell.
The cell was about ten metres square, and it held seven of the prisoners. They wore regular clothing, but they were dishevelled, and a couple had bruises on their faces. A woman with short hair and broad shoulders had a cut under her left eye.
There was a bucket in one corner. The air hung heavy with the stink of urine and vomit, and there were damp patches on the floor.
“It’s okay,” Ryann said. “We’re here to help.”
There was a series of metallic crashes as Keelin tore into the next c
