The prison yard didn’t look the same as it used to. Once, it was an isolated place, fenced in and heavily guarded. It was still fenced in, of course, but the guards were no more. They were either dead or long gone, but dead was the more likely option. Jose felt pity for them, as many times as he’d hated them.

The weights were still there, haphazardly pressed against the gates. This area had been undisturbed by the chaos during the first few days. One of the benches was turned over on its side. Jose went over to it and righted it.

“Can’t believe I was here with Evan two weeks ago.”