A big guard popped his head of an adjacent door I'd never have known existed there, saying, "Hey Dr Zeena, need my help?"
I realised the guards were everywhere when he disappeared through another door. Their posts were well hidden all over the place. I also suspected one of the steel doors in the annex housed their offices. By the time Baldy and Zeena left, I was at the edge of whatever was left of my slipping consciousness. The drug knocked me out cold for several hours, I could tell from the mild stench that arose from my mouth in the process of yawning after I came to. The squeak of rubber-soled shoes nearby reminded me someone was keeping tabs on me.
"Welcome back to earth. Aren't we feeling better now?"
The male voice said.
I turned, nodding afirmatively.
"That's the idea."
The owner of the voice glanced back at me behind horn-rimmed glasses, Doc Lanky. His impatient narrow face was closer now, and I could see my faint reflection, strangely, in his spectacles. The resemblance was too striking, and from the way he looked at me with suspicion, I thought he saw it too. His moustache was the difference.
"You can go now to your room." He said at last.
I wasn't sure of my breath, so I nodded again. My guess had been right, it was almost morning again. The scent of my room greeted me more pleasantly this time. I was grateful to be back, and even managed to not check the check-nots cabinet as I shut my eyes back.
The brunch ring woke me with a start, until my senses fully recompensated, I was dazed momentarily. On my way down, I met a queer fellow on the third landing speaking with an imaginary person while his left hand continually pulled and returned an unseen device to his mouth - in between puffs. It later occurred to me that he was smoking.
The dining hall was half filled already by the time I got there. The serving point was behind a door that escaped my eyes earlier in the dining hall. After getting served, I was headed out when my shoulder bumped into an old fellow at the doorway. He let out a historical yell,
"Watch it boy. You open your eyes really really good, 'cos I might be your ticket to solitary. This military zone boy, military zone! So you keep off, or I'll blow your monkey head off!"
Satisfied that his hoarse rendition had been dished out nicely, he took a slice of sandwich off my tray and wolfed it right there, blaring his wide nostrils at me. I found myself a privy corner seat with the whole view of the hall at my disposal. Tatum must've noticed me for a while before I took note of his presence, though he never bat an eyelid when our gaze met. This got me feeling uncomfortable, thus prompted me to quickly find another subject within my periphery.
"Look at me boy. Fela talking to you." The old fellow from the serving point bellowed at me again with his commanding voice as he left his seat to settle opposite mine.
"Are you from Delta? Look at me boy when I talk. Are you from delta?"
His demeanour had changed, whatever impressions of the criminally insane predator I felt he exhibited earlier had been uncled down to a look of pertubed curiosity.
"I'm sorry you must have mistaken me for someone else." I retorted, trying to sound as corrosive as possible.
"Don't dare use tone like that with me boy, I might be old but I can stand." Each word stamped out his timid outlook as fury leapt into his eyes. I wondered for first time if I really belonged here.
"Now listen to me, advice you cannot buy from any friend or enemies, but know enemy better than friend anyday." He pointed at Tatum and the rest, then continued. "The people you should scared of in here are the ones that bump you and apologise there, and the ones that bump you then apologise later. " Then he stood up and left. Food for thoughts.
WATCHOUT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER GUYS, TELL ME IF YOU LOVE THIS STORY SO THAT I CAN CONTINUE, IT WILL BE LIKE AN ENCOURAGEMENT, THANKS FOR READING... TILL WE SAIL UNDER THE BRIDGE AGAIN.
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