Nightrise

thoughts along the corridors, into the different blocks, trying to feel for any sense of his brother being nearby. He concentrated on the other side of the wall. But there was nothing. Why was that? Jamie refused to accept that Scott wasn't here. He had to be somewhere. Inside the secret compound. And if he wasn't responding, there had to be a reason. Maybe it was simply that he was asleep.
    Somehow the next hour crawled past. Then there were more lessons, an hour in the gym, dinner. The day finished with a wrap-up session in the unit's living area — an open space with four circular tables where they were allowed to play cards or board games. The boys were supposed to talk about the day and how it had gone, but of course there was never very much to say. A guard sat watching them from behind a bank of monitors that showed different views of the corridors. There were no cameras in the cells. Tonight, Max Koring was on duty, which meant that the lights would snap out at exactly ten o'clock — or perhaps fifteen minutes earlier if he felt like it.
    They were sent back to their cells at nine o'clock. They were given nothing to wear in bed — it was too hot anyway — so the boys just slept in their shorts. Each of them was given a toothbrush to use but it was collected and locked away again before the doors were shut. The handle of a toothbrush, sharpened, could make a lethal weapon, and the supervisors weren't taking any chances. Jamie had no watch. It had been taken away from him along with everything else that might give him any sense of identity or independence. Eventually the lights in the cell blinked out although it still wasn't truly dark. There were arc lamps all around the prison perimeter and they would stay on all night, the white glare seeping in through the window. Jamie lay on his bunk for about half an hour. Then he got up and dressed. It was time.
    He pressed the call button next to his cell door.
    A few minutes later, there was the rattle of a key and the door slid open. Max Koring stood there, his stomach rising and falling, his face half hidden in shadow. He had opened the door manually, overriding the electric control. And he wasn't pleased to be here. None of the supervisors enjoyed the graveyard shift. But being bothered by the kids just made it worse.
    'Yes?" he demanded.
    "I want you to take me to the units on the other side of the wall," Jamie said.
    The supervisor stared at him. He looked puzzled.
    'You will do it now," Jamie continued — and pushed, projecting his thoughts into the man's head. He knew what he was doing. He had done exactly the same thing when he had come face-to-face with the policeman at Marcie's house in Sparks.
    Max Koring didn't move.
    "We're leaving now," Jamie said. And pushed again.
    'You think you're being funny?" Koring muttered. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
    Jamie felt a shiver of bewilderment — followed by panic. It wasn't working! But it had to. "Take me to my brother!" he demanded. He was still pushing, burning a hole in the man's brain.
    Now Koring was examining him as if seeing him in a completely new light. He smiled — but there was nothing warm or pleasant in it. 'You have a brother?" he asked.
    Desperately, Jamie changed tack. He couldn't make the man obey him — but he could still use the moment to get information from him. He no longer cared about the consequences. He had to know about Scott and so he concentrated and jumped into Koring's mind, just as he had with Colton Banes.
    Nothing happened. His power wasn't working. Jamie just had time to absorb the shock before Koring grabbed hold of him and backhanded him — hard — across the face. The room spun. Jamie tasted blood. Then he was thrown backward, crashing into the bunk.
    "I don't like my time being wasted," Koring said. "And you don't give me orders. You may be new here, but you should know that. So maybe it's time you had your first taste of CRR."

    CRR. Corrective Room Restriction. Another way of saying solitary confinement.
    Ten minutes later, Koring returned with another supervisor. Neither of them said a word. They simply jerked Jamie out of his cell and dragged him down the corridor. The other boys must have heard what had happened. Suddenly they were all awake and shouting encouragement.
    "Good luck, Indian!"
    "Don't let them grind you down!"
    "See you soon, Indian. You take care!"
    The isolation cells were in a separate area, a pair of heavy, steel doors separating