Shadows of Reform (Probably being edited)

Chapter Four

Mellisa remembered why she hated Reform prison. Her cell was cold and dark, dirt covered the floor, and a wood panel hung from the ceiling, held by rope. This is where she sat, for her bare feet could not stand the filth below for too long. The floor seemed to have a special property, its heat-sucking ability made her believe that it was almost alive. Mellisa dared not step off the platform.

There was a singular guard that strolled by the area, stopping to speak with one inmate or another. Upon reaching her cell, the man stopped to look at a piece of parchment, probably a manifest. He laughed, then turned to her.

"You must be worth a good lot, to have been put in here in place of..." He returned to the manuscript, "... two gun smugglers! Damn, what the hell did you do?"

Mellisa smiled. "I took a job, simple as that."

"You took the wrong job then. Jesus, the people I have to deal with..."

"You shouldn't have to deal with them. Get me out, and I can help you." She leaned closer, hoping to charm him to submission. She was still wearing the same clothes she had worn yesterday, and he took notice for a second, but then he recalled himself.

"Hell no. Ryan brought you in here; if I let you out he'll be on me first. I really don't feel like dying in the streets."

"Ryan, eh?"

"...I did not say that!"

"Yes you did."

"...Just... Shut up!" The young guard strode away, trying to act as if nothing bothered him. But she knew that she had struck a nerve. He would be back, and Mellisa would be waiting...

------

Jason was ten years old again. It was a normal day with his parents, his mother tending to a small garden behind the shed, and his father atop the roof with the rifle, an old gun. And Melody, only four years old, was trying to play tag with him.

"Come on! You can't catch me!" she performed a little dance around his legs, waiting for him to take notice. But he was too busy revering his father to notice. So she pinched his back.

"Ow! Hey! Watch it!" he tried to push her away.

"Come on! Chase me!" she screamed, as Jason gave chase.

What a strange--

Instantly, he was awake. The last word escaped his mouth as he rose.

"-Dream..."

He looked around, expecting Melody to come into the room, her cheery face pleading to get him some food. But alas, it did not come. That cursed assassin took the one thing that mattered. They would perish by his hands.

But first, he was hungry. Jason picked his equipment up off the table, strapped his coat and belt on, and placed the weapons where they belonged. The next thing he did was completely foreign to him. He walked downstairs, over to where his sister cooked their food, and searched for some nourishment himself. The small pit where Melody cooked items was empty, and covered in ash. Jason decided to leave cooking for another day, and grabbed a piece of bread from the cupboard instead.

Next, he became methodical. He required a few materials before he exacted his revenge. The first of which was ammunition, as his sister seemed to have taken it with her in her death.

Jason stepped out the door of his home, and made his way towards Dragger's home, making sure he had enough Debts for a box. He trusted the man, and there was no one like him in the whole city. Nobody else had an expert track record smuggling items in, and that's when he needed to. Most of the time the old craftsman built whatever he was asked for inside his shop. That reduced the risk of discovery tenfold. Plus, despite the outward expression, Mr. Dragger was a genial man, but he was also a good fighter. The cane he carried was much more than a cane, as the man himself had placed a shotgun shell inside. Pulling the handle back would send five ounces of buckshot flying outwards. That was the short summary of why he liked the man.

The door was slightly ajar upon his arrival. Jason drew his knife, and stepped inward. There was nothing, save the glass cases where the merchant displayed his works of art, the chairs that he sat on with his clients, and the remnants of the workbench in the back. Even the curtains were gone. Obviously there was no one here anymore, and everything had been looted or taken by Dragger. There was, however, a note left behind, trampled by feet and moved by wind. Jason picked up the note.

------

Mellisa was worried now. Her friend had not returned, and he was most likely being replaced with another guard, who would probably not stand for the same routine. She decided next time to try for the 'innocent pleading girl' trick, to see if the next man would react at all.

Sometimes, she chuckled, the veterans feel they deserve payment.

In the meantime, she became bored with holding herself on the platform. She tried to occupy her mind by performing exercise, pushups and curl-ups, and a few pull-ups as well. Mellisa practiced her shooting stance, moving and flowing with the imaginary wind to keep her hands steady and on target. She even became bored with that, and began honing her combat form, bobbing and weaving tediously to avoid the invisible assailant. After she finished her opponent, she stopped for a second.

The other inmates must think I'm crazy. But she had something to live for. There was hope, and there were friends, friends that would get her out.

"Left... down here, on the left... Where is she?" the voice brought Mellisa out of her trance.

A small light permeated the darkness that enveloped the hallway. Mellisa ran forward, to the bars, to see what was going on. The voice sounded familiar...

As the light came closer, she could see a face behind the blinding whiteness.

"Rick?" She hoped this was not a dream.

"Right here, friend. The Order is not going to leave a good soldier behind. Say hello to the second shift guard!" he smiled just enough to show his teeth, white spots surrounded by his dark skin. She thought he looked quite handsome in this outfit, contrary to his overcoat that he usually wore. The muddy thing fit in outside, but not here.

"Now get me the hell outta here. I can't stand this dank place." She watched Rick reach for the keys in his pocket. The door unlocked with a click, and she was free again.

"Alright, your weapons and equipment are sitting out by the church; the Watchers will tell you where to find it. And Mellisa..." Rick paused for a second.

"What?"

"Dragger isn't happy with our little stunt."

"I know, and I'll make it up to him. Plus, he keeps operational secrecy. He wouldn't tell Jason anything."

"Whatever. Now go, and quickly."

------

Jason could not believe his eyes. First, Dragger had escaped the madness following the shooting, and he had a present for him? Didn't he care at all about Melody's death?! Jason did need to see the man, and perhaps he didn't know about it yet. The letter he stuffed into his pocket a few minutes ago was bothering him greatly. Currently he was wandering the streets, looking for something to take his mind off the loss. There was a doctor sitting up ahead, at least that was what he claimed to be. Jason realized that his shoulder was still hurting, so he moved to the side to have it looked at.

"Well, what could such a perfect looking man as you have issues... with...?" Jason had pulled up his sleeve. "Well, um, let me have a look at this." The healer motioned for Jason to come closer. He sat down next to the doctor, and helped him to pry off the bandage.

"How is it?"

"Well, the hole looks cleaned out, and the bullet is gone. The blood loss is minimal, and... everything seems in order, except for this. The wound is clean, but the bandage is not wrapped tight enough. Let me get you another one."

"No, this will do."

"Are you sure? I have much better materials tight over here... AH!" Jason gripped the doctor's hand tightly.

"Doctor, how many bones are in the body?" He picked a finger, and began applying pressure.

"Ow! Uhh, two hundred and six? What does that have to do with--"

Snap. "Two hundred and seven. Good day sir."

Jason left the man to nurse his own wounds while he closed up the bandage, and walked off. There was an old man he needed to talk to.