Another short burst of gunfire broke Temmins’s thoughts, and the fat man spun back toward the cell door. As fast as it started, the firefight was over. What could this mean? Did they kill whoever was here? Was the danger over? Curse them for not utilizing the loud speaker. Someone tell me what’s going on!

The man on the table chuckled, and Temmins turned on him, scared of even this small sound, so foreign in this place.

Icy water still dripped and poured on the unknown man’s face, ice still hung from his hair, his body, a field of pain.