Bridget Bundy - The Secret Weapon

“What is this about?” She asked as she eyed every officer carefully. Her mind began to race. She wondered where Senator Cassis was. What was his wife trying to do?

Detective Price stepped forward and stated, “I’m Detective Lewis Price of the Barat Region. I need to speak to you about the murder of Police Lieutenant William Donner.”

Coraset glared at Lea who was smirking evilly. With a subdued anger, Coraset stated, “I don’t know anything about a murder.”

“She is such a liar,” Lea whispered towards Detective Price. “She knows him.”

“I’m going to need for you to put your hands over your head,” Detective Price ordered as he pulled out his weapon.

The six police officers followed Detective Price’s lead and pulled out their weapons, as well. Coraset slowly moved her hands to her head. One of the police officers frisked her and when he was done, he forced Coraset’s hands behind her back, and her wrists were placed in handcuffs.

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out.” Lea spoke as she slowly approached Coraset. She was talking about something other than what Coraset was being arrested for, but she didn’t let on to what she meant.

Coraset stared at her, confused by her last statement.

Lea laughed and asked smartly, “Do you realize that killing a police officer of any rank from any region has the punishment of death?”

Coraset stated angrily, “I didn’t murder anyone.”

Detective Price commanded, “Take her away.”

They walked Coraset out of the apartment. When the police tried to put her in the back of the police van, she fought against them. She didn’t want to face a trial and the death penalty. She didn’t do what Lea claimed she did. She didn’t know any police lieutenant, and she never killed one. Coraset managed to head butt one of the officers and kick the leg of another before she was controlled by a tranquilizer to the back of the neck. She became weak and collapsed within seconds.

It was over a day later when Coraset woke up finding herself in a ten by ten cell. She had dry mouth, a splitting headache, and the room was spinning. She closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths. Once she opened them again, Coraset noticed on her right side was a cold cement wall and on the left were a silver toilet and a sink. A thin slit window went down the center of the wall facing the head of the bed, and her feet were facing the only wall with an entrance into her cell. Coraset closed her eyes again. At least, the Federation didn’t kill her. In the new government, trial and punishment was all executed the same day, and since she was still breathing with a massive headache, her fate had to be prison instead of death. Now, Coraset had one question. How long was she to stay in prison?

A year and a half passed and Coraset was still a resident of the Mojave Prison. She never had any visitors, but that never truly mattered to her. She still had her stepfather, but she didn’t want him travelling from the Barat Region to Death Valley by himself. It was at least a four hour drive, and anything could happen. There were people who still lived outside of Erato, and they would try to take his car or mug him if he stopped to get gas. It was a worry she didn’t want to bear.

Coraset sat on the bed with her hands together in her lap, and she waited patiently for her breakfast and to take a shower. She stared at the bare wall in front of her. She never wanted to make her cell feel like home. She hated being there. The small space remained just as empty as the day she arrived.

Finally her tray of food was shoved in through the slot in the door. The eggs and soggy toast was never edible, but she always took a couple of bites to satisfy her angry appetite.

An hour later the food was taken away, and Coraset was finally taken to the showers. She placed her towel and comb on the tiled wall in front of her. She took off the orange jumpsuit she was required to wear that indicated she was a dangerous inmate and her underclothes, but she kept on her flip flops. She stepped under the stream of cold water from the rusty hooked shower head. With her eyes closed, Coraset tilted her head back letting the water beat on her face, neck, and chest. The steady rhythm on her body felt absolutely heavenly.

Coraset was the only inmate in the showers, and she was being watched by male armed guards. She was used to it. She simply acted as though they weren’t there. Most of them looked forward to watching her while she was showered.

The first time in the prison shower, one of the guards tried to take advantage of her. Coraset got the best of him. She gave him the impression that she wanted him, and when his guard was down, she got his gun and killed him. Coraset was placed in extreme solitary confinement with no lights and no windows. Her shower privileges, outside privileges, and her library privileges were taken away. She remained in there for three weeks.

When Coraset returned back to her regular cell, another guard decided to try his luck. She let him have his way. She was all over him as much as he was all over her, and she got a hold of his night stick. She brutalized him, and he eventually died of his injuries. She was put into extreme solitary confinement for a month. The warden ordered the guards not to touch her or approach her alone. She was considered very dangerous, and she was to be treated as such.

The three guards that watched her that day in the shower had their rifles armed and ready. They noticed her smooth chocolate colored skin, her malnourished thin frame, and subtle but perk breasts. Her wet black hair was pasted to her back, arms, and shoulders in twisted strands. Before she could apply soap, the shower abruptly stopped. The guards lifted their weapons higher, surprised themselves that the water had stopped so sudden. Coraset looked at each one of them, turning only to look at the guard against the wall behind her. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t ask any question.

With angered impatience, Coraset snatched the half towel from its resting place on the waist high tiled wall. She wiped herself completely down and dressed back into her clothes. She grabbed the wide toothed comb that was on the tiled wall and raked her hair into a ponytail. She wrapped the wet strands around and tucked it to create a bun. When she was done and had all of her things, two guards approached her, and one stood behind her. They led Coraset to the only door into the shower room and waited for the loud obnoxious buzzer that indicated the door was unlocked.

Once they were in the hallway, two more guards showed up, and one of them placed her wrists in cuffs. Coraset stared at the floor, never making eye contact. She never wanted them to see her emotions or read her expressions, and she didn’t want to look in their faces.

Coraset was taken to her cell, and she was released of her restraints. She noticed their normal practice of escorting a prisoner had changed a bit. Usually she had to be completely in the cell with the doors closed, and then she had to stick her arms through the rectangular slot to have the cuffs removed from the outside. Coraset wondered why the change in procedure, and soon her silent question was answered.

The guard commanded in a dry tone, “Get your things. You’re leaving.”

Coraset was looking into the clear blue eyes of the guard that gave her the order. She didn’t know what to think. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought again remembering where she was. She turned and stared at the room. She didn’t have any personals, just underclothing. The room was bare of pictures just like the first day she arrived. No drawings, no letters, and nothing to remind her of a family she once loved. The bed was made, folded in precise military style. A slit of light shined across the small space illuminating dust particles as they swirled in midair. Her clean underclothes, which consisted of five pairs of underwear, bras, and socks, were folded on top of a foot locker. She placed her clothing in a blue bag that was wedged underneath her undergarments. Coraset took one last look at the room.