Hank
“See?” Speed Bump said as he walked with Hank back to his cell. “Bull ain't such a bad guy, is he?”
“For a fucking Nazi, I guess,” Hank replied grimly. “How come I'm just finding out about all of this now? Why doesn't Bib know the Warriors in here are bending over for the goddamn Aryans?”
“Aw, well, I was gonna tell 'im,” Speed Bump mumbled. “But Bull said it'd maybe be better if he didn't know. Bull said it'd be best for all've us if things in here kept runnin' smooth an' simple. He said if Bib heard about our arrangement an' decided to interfere, it could fuck up his whole operation an' then he might not be able to protect us no more.”
“Jesus Christ, Bump, do you hear yourself? You were one of the founding members of the Carnage Warriors. You swore an oath to the club, to your brothers, and especially to Bib. And now it's 'Bull says this' and 'Bull says that,' like you're some kind of hand puppet. I mean, what the hell, man? On the outside, we used to stomp these racist goons for fun on weekends just because they're so fucking pathetic, and in here they're telling us what's what?”
Speed Bump seized Hank's upper arm. Despite how scrawny he was, his grip felt like a vise.
“Now you listen to me, Mister I-Ain't-Never-Done-No-Time-Before,” he hissed. “Me an' Bib formed the fuckin' Warriors back in the day 'cause we were both realists, and we saw that the ways things were goin' in this country, a man couldn't protect what was his without plenty've bikes, guns, an' brothers to back 'im up. Well, I dunno what kind've bullshit fairy tale kingdom Bib gets to live in these days while he's still breathin' the free fuckin' air, but I'm in here, which means I still gotta be a fuckin' realist. You gotta stop thinkin' of these Nazis as lazy slobs an' trailer trash meth heads like they are out there, 'cause in here, they're an army that outnumbers us about twenty to one an' they're the only ones willin' to put their arm around us. You get with that program, you get to live an' maybe even serve your time a little easier. You don't? You get treated like that fucker over there.”
Speed Bump pointed across the cell block. Hank looked, and saw that Foley was sweating and stammering nervously as a group of Sinners surrounded him, taunting him and shoving him.
“You go ahead an' make your choice, kid,” Speed Bump said. “I already made mine.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Hank rubbed his temples, trying to take it all in. But as perplexed as he was by the relationship between the Warriors and the White Knights, it was the thought of Beth working as a guard in Bluebonnet that made his brain vapor-lock.
He walked into his cell. Ram was still reading in the top bunk.
A few minutes later, Beth appeared in the doorway of Hank's cell, holding a Wendy's bag and a large cup. “Here's your food,” she said tonelessly. “Before you eat it, though, you'll need to come with me. The warden's secretary wants to go over some of your paperwork with you to make sure everything's accurate.”
Ram sat up. “What do you mean? What's wrong with his paperwork?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Don't ask me. I just do what I'm told, remember? Come on, Hall, let's go.”
Hank set the bag of food on his bunk and got up. “You want some of my fries, help yourself,” he said to Ram. “You can do the ketchup in the shape of a swastika or something.”
“Wiseass,” Ram muttered.
Beth led Hank into an empty stairwell. Once the door shut behind them, her expression relaxed. Now that they were standing so close, Hank saw that even though most of her face looked the same, her eyes made her look like she'd aged ten years since he'd seen her.
“Beth, what the fuck is happening here?” Hank asked. “Have I stepped into the goddamn Twilight Zone or something? What are you doing in Bluebonnet? Why are you taking orders from that Nazi shitheel?”
“I know, it's a lot to process at once. Just take a few deep breaths and try to relax, okay? I'll tell you everything.”
And she did.