It was only about a week later when the Kid banging the bristle head into the long handle he was holding to complete his tenth broom of the day, felt a shift in atmosphere around him. The usual resentful silence had been replaced by an air of almost dark anticipation. The Kid almost dismissed his feeling, thinking it was just a product of his ever present anxiety. But despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sense of danger only intensified to the point he had to take note of it. So while still appearing intent on his task, he glanced round the workshop and quickly identified the reason for it. A tall broad man with a heavily pockmarked face and two others were, in direct disobedience talking quietly together with an air of conspiracy about them.

The guards were changing shifts and too busy ribbing the youngest about his recent marriage, hadn't yet noticed anything amiss. Out of the corner of his eye, the Kid saw a flicker of something shiny as the pockmarked man lunged at the back of the nearest unsuspecting guard, Jenkins. As the other two men launched themselves at the remaining guard, the Kid didn't really stop to think, simply swung the broom he was holding and caught the first man's wrist while kicking out to try and trip one of the other men. The first attacker yelped and dropped whatever was in his hand, while the second man stumbled.

His intervention gave the guards time to react and the three men were quickly subdued, cursing the Kid as they were restrained.

The Kid along with the other prisoners were called out into the yard to watch the prescribed lashes before the men would be hauled down into solitary. A shove drew his attention and he turned to glare at whoever had pushed him. He found himself looking into the angry gaze of an inmate named Barker. One of the prisoners that the Kid figured deserved his sentence. He was as vicious as he was stupid, which made for a dangerous combination. "This is your fault. You shoulda just looked the other way like most of us woulda' done. Always thought you followed the outlaw code. I'm real disappointed that someone like you turned lackey."

With a quick glance round to check none of the guards could hear or see them the Kid said just as quietly, keeping his expression and tone calm so as not to antagonise the idiot anymore. "Don't follow no code, 'cept my own. Me bein' in here don't mean I gotta change the way I see things. I won't never stand by and watch someone who don't deserve it, get stabbed in the back. Besides what do you think life woulda been like for the rest of us if they'd done what they wanted?

He subsided into silence conscious of other hostile glances from some of the others. The Kid knew that maybe if he'd had time to think he might not have stepped in. He didn't regret his intervention as Jenkins was one of the few good ones. But neither did he want to get into an argument which would only end up in a fight.

His cellmate came to stand beside him, making his support clear, with a slight smile on his lips as he whispered. "You sure know how to make friends."

The Kid catching the look one of the guards was throwing their way, managed to suppress a laugh and shake his head. He made sure he kept his gaze neutral and his eyes down. He had no desire for either him or Jake to end up in trouble with the guards themselves.

XXX

The Kid woken as usual to the banging on the bars of his cell, and as Jake did the same, quickly scrambled off his narrow bunk, reaching for the clean underwear under the pillow before making his bed neatly.

Today was bath day, which always gave the Kid mixed feelings. He hated having to bathe with unwelcome company, in uncomfortably cool water, but the chance to stretch his cramped muscles and to soak his grimy skin albeit briefly was always a relief.

He, Jake and the rest of his block were marched to the wash room area and pushed to stand against the wall, waiting to be called in cell order to bathe.

It was only a few minutes later that the Kid realised something was terribly wrong. He looked round the room and realised in some shock that unlike him, most of the other prisoners weren't fully shackled. He wondered why he'd just not noticed it before. He saw that their escorts had disappeared and he swore the air crackled round him in the desperately charged atmosphere.

He exchanged a glance with Jake who was also still restrained. Tensing himself he tried to move quickly, but was only able to shuffle forward. He'd only managed a few tiny steps away from the wall when six unrestrained inmates pounced on him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that two others held his cellmate in a tight grasp, covering his mouth to prevent him either intervening or yelling for help.

Kid brought his fists up in an attempt to defend himself, but restrained as he was and overwhelmed by numbers, he was soon seized and held helpless as someone hissed in his ear. "Well a few of us figured you needed to be brought down a notch or two. Even them guards agreed that ain't no call for you to be uppity." The pressure on his throat meant the Kid couldn't speak and the fierce grip on his body gave him no chance of moving. Anger warred with trepidation over his situation and what was about to happen. A heavy fist in his stomach doubled him over in pain as the grip on him slackened. Before he could react any further, he was yanked backwards and his feet lifted off the ground.

Lying naked in a pool of blood he watched a steady pink stream trickle down towards the wooden tubs against the wall, hardly registering it as his own. A heavy kick to his bare side made him groan, as the brutal pain in his body flared to another level of agony. "Hope this will act as a reminder that you ain't no better than the rest of us." Something landed with a clattering thud close to the Kid's head. The Kid turned to gaze at the object with a detached curiosity. It took him several seconds to register what it was. A broom handle, with one end discoloured and broken exposing sharp shards of wood. That explained the excruciating torment that had thrown him full length onto the filthy floor feeling as if he was being split in two.

When everything started to fade round him and the burning pain receded to numbness, he wondered if this was what death felt like as he struggled to breathe. His last thought before giving into the darkness, was that he hoped Heyes and the rest of his family would be there to meet him.