Beastly Winter — Chapter 13

Something poked Lance’s chest and he groggily tried to sit up.

“What’zit?” he mumbled, then realized his left hand was cuffed to the metal frame above his head.

He felt the sharp pain as he was jabbed again. His eyes followed the length of the pole through the bars. Just outside the cell, Deputy Zellner held a long-handled broom by its black bristles. He thrust it into Lance’s bicep and then jerked back quickly as Lance reached across his body to grab at the stick.

“Get up, shit-for-brains.” Zellner rapped the end of the broom handle down on Lance’s forehead.

With great effort, Lance struggled to a sitting position.

“What’aya want?” He was having trouble focusing and his head throbbed, from both the rap on his head and a monstrous hangover.

“Hey, same as any red-blooded American male. Peace on Earth. Fair pay for fair work.” Zellner laughed. “A good lay without the clap.”

Lance glared. “Well, you won’t get it from me.”

The deputy smirked at him.

“The lay, or the clap?”

Lance stared numbly at Zellner, beginning to realize his position. He was handcuffed to the cot, where the deputy could inflict pain without entering the cell.