Sixteen
These guards were going all out. Were they really that afraid of him, locking everything on him from his hands and feet to his head? Every shackle, every handcuff, every bit of armor—locked.
Clarence blew a breath out. He pulled against the handcuffs, without letting on—not moving a muscle. Tight. Everything was tight. His hands had begun to tingle.
But as Clarence scanned the people gathering, maybe the extra protection was for him. Men gathered in every allowable place that inmates could gather. It had only been a couple months since Clarence had been shipped off to Hillcrest Nursing Home, but these people seemed more evil than he remembered. He knew he hadn’t changed that much in such a short time.
Their eyes were more evil—squinting, but more than that. The eyeballs were bl
