Shit. Blurry vision. Something blue is coming into focus. My left arm won’t move for some reason. People talking. I let out a small grunt, and the blue blur turns towards me. The talking stops.
Focus regains slowly. Shit. It’s a uniform.
“Jackson. Come on wake up”, the cops instructs me. “Hey get him some water.” A young girl brings me some. She was one of the bartenders. Her eyes show how rough the night has been for her already. I try to focus on those eyes as I sip the water. Try to reassure her even though I’m the one in serious trouble here.
“Jackson, what happened here?”
“ I don’t know.” I look to my unmoving arm and realized I’m handcuffed to the chair. “This necessary?”
“That’s up to you,” He kneels down to my leg, pulling up my jeans, revealing the small tracking radio on my leg. “Pretty impressive how you disabled this.”
Could this night get any better?
“Look Jackson, tell me what you know, either way you’ve broken parole and are heading back south, but you help me, I’ll talk to your Parole Officer for you.”
I stare at the floor. Watch an ant skitter across. I’m now a bug in this, whatever this is? Before we get started there is one thing I need to know.
“Sparrow?”
The faces in the room tell me all I need to know.