False Witness (John Steel series Book 3) Read Free Page A

thick grating as the deluge appeared to come down sideways against the side of the bus, the noise like a storm of hailstones. Brian watched the world as it blurred past through water-streaked windows. This was not a world he knew, just merely one he had passed through several times.
    His world had gone, ripped away from him in conspiracy and lies ten years previously, however, he had reinvented himself and established himself as a big part of the prison. The large man who had visited him in his cell on his first night had said something to him once that he had never forgotten, which was:
    “You can let this place consume you or you can make yourself become so important that you are hard to be swallowed.”
    At the time Armstrong hadn’t understood this logic, but as time went on and he saw the beatings and the stabbings he came to understand. Be someone they respected. Respected not out of fear, no, that was someone else’s domain. His strategy was to become something so different that they couldn’t do without him, he’d become an influence of a different kind... a teacher .
    Brian was suddenly awoken from his daydream by an argument between the head guard and the driver. He couldn’t make out what it was about, as they held their tone down, so as not to alarm the prisoners. However, he paid it no heed, just went back to listening to the music of the raindrops on the metal.
    “Okay, ten minutes, people,” yelled the guard who stood next to the driver. Brian opened his eyes and smiled, calculating that even if the board never granted him early release he had still gotten outside the jail for a little while.
    Brian casually looked around the bus, at the other inmates and three guards who were along for the ride. His slight glance suddenly turned to an interested glare, and as he took note at the way everyone was set out, almost confused at the seating arrangements, the ‘old soldier’ in him kicked in. He hadn’t noticed it before, he hadn’t really had time as they were carted on to the bus like cattle for the slaughter house.
    He found it curious the way they were set out into two groups and his group was at the back of the bus and seated against the right-hand wall, while the others were seated against the left-hand side near the front. He shook the suspicion off as just his soldier paranoia began to kick in, and he went back to looking out of the window.
    The rain had gotten heavier, making it almost impossible to see out of the glass, which was beginning to mist up. The glazing had been strengthened but was still breakable, however, the steel caging on the outside of the windows prevented any idea of escape. In addition, each of the men was clamped down by a securing grip that held the leg cuffs in place on the floor.
    Brian stared out of the window as best he could, shapes of buildings blurred past and he realised in horror that the bus was getting faster. Brian turned towards the long gantry to see if there was a problem and everything seemed to go into slow motion as the bus skidded out of control when they turned a sharp bend. Those at the rear were thrown to the ground as the men at the front were almost pinned to the windows of the bus because of the sudden velocity of the skid.
    Armstrong heard screams and then what seemed to be a loud explosion behind them. Small glass fragments fell from shattered windows, covering the men as they sought shelter on the floor, then there was another massive shudder and their bodies were thrown upwards as the bus was hurled onto its side.
    Prisoners on the left side of the bus screamed in pain and fear as they suddenly found themselves hung upside down from their leg restraints. Brian Armstrong looked up at the men as they struggled to grab hold of something to support themselves. Fountains of water sprayed inside through the broken windows. Filling the interior with rainwater as the bus skidded across the flood-covered road.
    The sound of yelling and the screaming of