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42
TORMENTA

Samir was sick all morning, but by the afternoon he was well enough to make it out into the exercise yard. As before, we were sitting together on the benches against the wall, although this time feeling tired and hungover rather than happy. The sunlight was as bright as it had been the previous day, but the air had turned cold and dark storm clouds were beginning to form on the horizon. The first thing on Samir's mind was organising another party.

'Thomas, we need more cocaine,' he stated loudly, not even using code. I shook my head and told him that I was too sick. They could get someone else to do it. 'But you have to,' he insisted. 'We're having a celebration.'

'I can't get any.'

'You're a liar, Thomas. And I know there's some left. Anyway, you've got no choice,' he said over his shoulder as he walked back into the cell block. 'You have to join me.'

'Why is that?' I called after him.

'Because it's my farewell party.'

As the guards were locking us back in our cells, there was a distant rumbling of thunder from the direction of the mountains and I heard the first drops of rain falling on the metal roof. I lay down on my bed, relieved that I could get some more sleep. Immediately, I noticed there was something hard underneath the mattress. I lifted it up to reveal ten cans of beer. Samir!

I ran to the door and looked through the flap, hoping that one of the others might still be out of his cell and could help me get rid of them. The corridor was empty. Everyone had been locked up.

'Samir!' I called. I heard laughter. 'You bastard.'