Chapter 2

It was another visiting day and this time, they sat across from each other on different ends of the hall. Until…

“Get down!” someone yelled.

The riot began with that scream. Metal clanged, military boots thundered and the visiting hall erupted into chaos.

Matteo was on his feet before the guard finished speaking.

Smoke bloomed near the far corridor and inmates surged like a black tide. Alarms wailed with red lights flashing.

Ezra stood frozen looking at his father that had just entered the room across from him, eyes wide.

“Ezra!” Nickolai shouted, pounding on the glass.

Matteo’s heart slammed against his ribs.

A guard grabbed Matteo’s arm as he moved. “Back to your seat so evacuation will be easier!”

Matteo wrenched free. “My father!”

“Everyone’s father is in here!”

Across the hall, Ezra was being shoved toward the exit. He twisted, searching.

Their eyes met.

For a second, the noise fell away. Ezra mouthed something but Matteo couldn’t hear it.

Then a wave of bodies crashed between them and gunshots cracked through the hall.

Matteo ran as smoke clawed at his lungs.

The visiting hall had become a storm of motion. Guards shouted as inmates surged through the security gates that had given way in the explosion. Somewhere, glass shattered. Somewhere else, someone screamed and did not stop.

“Antonov!” a voice barked.

Matteo ignored it.

He ducked under a swinging arm, shoved past a man with blood running down his cheek, and sprinted toward the corridor that led deeper into the prison. His boots skidded on the polished floor. A guard tried to grab him again but Matteo slammed his elbow back into the man’s ribs and kept running.

My father.

That was all that existed.

He burst through the security gate just as another gunshot echoed but something was wrong. There was a second one above. It wasn’t the flat crack of a warning round, this one was muffled and his ears could tell through years of experience… a silencer!

A guard collided with him. “You can’t go in there!”

Matteo seized the man’s collar. “Where is Sergei Antonov?”

“Block C,” the guard snapped. “Now let go before—”

Matteo released him and ran.

—

Ezra was being dragged toward the exit by two guards.

“Wait!” he gasped. “My dad—my dad is still inside!”

“You’re a civilian,” one of them snapped. “You don’t belong in this mess.”

“That’s my father!” Ezra twisted, fighting their grip. “Please!”

A woman nearby sobbed as she was shoved through the doors. A man shouted a name until his voice broke.

Ezra dug his heels in. “Let me go!”

A guard backhanded him across the mouth and stars exploded behind his eyes.

“Move,” the guard growled.

Ezra stumbled, blood on his lip, heart hammering. He craned his neck, searching through the chaos.

Matteo.

He didn’t know why he looked for him. He just did.

But Matteo was gone.

The doors slammed shut behind Ezra.

—

Block C was a furnace.

Smoke poured from a side corridor, sprinklers hissed overhead, soaking the concrete and inmates that hadn’t been let out yet pounded on their cell doors. Some screamed. Some laughed.

Matteo skidded around a corner and nearly collided with a guard firing down the hall.

“Get back!” the guard shouted.

“Sergei Antonov!” Matteo yelled over the gunfire. “Where is he?”

The guard hesitated. “Cell seventeen. But you can’t—”

Matteo didn’t wait, he sprinted down the corridor.

Cell seventeen’s door hung open and inside, chaos reigned.

Nickolai Roman lay sprawled on the floor, eyes open and empty. Blood pooled beneath him. A dagger protruded from his hand, slick and red.

Matteo barely saw him.

His father was slumped against the wall.

“Papa.”

Sergei’s breath rattled. Blood soaked his shirt. Multiple stab wounds bloomed across his torso.

Matteo dropped to his knees. “Papa, look at me. Look at me.”

Sergei’s eyes fluttered.

“Who did this?” Matteo demanded. “Tell me.”

Sergei’s hand twitched.

“Papa.”

Sergei’s lips moved.

“Say it,” Matteo whispered. “I’ll make them pay.”

Sergei’s gaze slid toward Nickolai as he shook his head with an emotion Matteo couldn’t quite grasp in his anger.

His mouth formed a single word.

“Nickolai.”

Matteo’s world tilted.

Sergei shook his head weakly. “Nickolai,” he breathed again.

His hand fell and the rattle stopped.

Matteo stared at him… then he screamed.

They dragged him out by force.

He fought. He bit. He kicked. He tore his knuckles open on concrete and metal as he resisted.

“Let me go!” he roared. “Let me go back!”

A baton cracked across his shoulder. Another across his thigh.

He collapsed.

Hands wrenched his arms behind his back and cold cuffs snapped shut.

“You’re going to isolation when we get back,” a voice said distantly.

Matteo laughed but it came out broken.

—

Ezra sat on the steps outside the prison, knees drawn to his chest. Snow drifted down in lazy flakes, melting against the blood on his lip.

People cried around him. Some argued with guards while some stared at nothing.

Hours passed before a man in uniform finally approached.

“Ezra Roman?”

Ezra stood so fast he nearly fell. “Yes, yes, that’s me. Wh…Where’s my dad?”

The man hesitated.

Ezra’s stomach dropped.

“There was a fatality during the riot,” the officer said carefully. “I’m sorry.”

Ezra’s ears rang.

“Your father didn’t make it.”

“No,” Ezra whispered. “No, he was just about to talk to me. He was fine.”

“I’m sorry,” the officer repeated.

Ezra shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

The officer handed him a paper, it was a file. Ezra stared at it before flipping through to the last page and there in block letters.

Nickolai Roman. Deceased.

Something inside him tore.

—

In isolation, Matteo stared at the wall with steely eyes.

Nickolai.

The name pulsed in his skull. Nickolai had done this, Nickolai had stabbed his father. He had seen the dagger in Nickolai’s hand and the gun near his father’s body.

Then his fingers curled as a strange smile bloomed on his face.

“I’ll find you,” he whispered into the concrete. “I don’t care how long it takes.”