THE SERPENT took his hand away from the wall and placed it on his naked body. Exhaling, he shivered as he caressed his scarified skin. He closed his eyes and pushed his palm down his torso. He stopped when he found a section of unscarred skin. Opening an old wound would have been easier, but revelations were not meant to be easy. He pressed the tip of the sharpened knife into his thigh.

Nothing.

He pulled the knife back before thrusting again.

Still nothing. Not enough pain.

He reefed the knife, slicing a deep gash.

The revelation.

He began his work. Arabic. Again.

‘Scorched altars burned,’ he said while wondering which of the thirty-three the revelation came from.

It only took him minutes to finish.

Once he was done, he limped across his cell and hit the knock-up.

CHAPTER 11

Long Bay Correctional Complex, Sydney, NSW, Australia

JAX opened his eyes as his cell door swung inwards.

‘Uhhh?’ he blurted, startled by the noise and then stunned by the light, the sun a speeding comet that had just crash-landed on his face. He closed his eyes and rolled over, shielding himself from the UV blast.

‘Get up,’ the guard called from the corridor. ‘Out in the yard for muster in ten minutes.’

‘Arggh,’ he exclaimed, as a pain like buckshot fired pointblank tore through his side.

He slowly lifted his heavy head and opened his eyes. One eye. He realised his left eye was swollen shut. He went to feel his face with his left hand but was stopped by another jolt of pain. He looked down and saw his left arm dangling like a sausage and the shoulder was at a right angle, a few inches higher than his chest. He summoned the right arm instead, lifted his hand all the way to his face and grunted when he made contact.

His cheekbone was broken.

He moved his hand higher to continue the examination, almost certain his eye socket would be smashed too. But there was no way to tell, not with the swelling, the blood-filled tissue raised an inch off his face.

‘Come on,’ the guard shouted. ‘Get moving. Time for muster.’ He poked his head into the cell. ‘What are you doing on the floor. Oh fuck . . .’

The guard edged into Jax’s room and stood there, aghast.

‘You need to go to the hospital, kid,’ he said as he moved towards the knock-up. ‘I’ll buzz for help.’

Jax ignored the pain and tried to struggle to his feet. ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I’m all good. I don’t need help.’

The guard pulled back from the emergency intercom.

‘Righto,’ he said. ‘But you gotta tell me what happened. You have to tell me who did this. I can help.’