The sharp metallic sound of steel-capped heels on black combat boots echoed through the corridor, keeping time with all the paraphernalia tapping against the guards’ thighs—keys dangling from metal chains, walkie-talkies, and black wooden Billy clubs. The stocky female escorts, a blonde and a brunette, both with hard chiseled features, were bored and uninterested. This was routine for them; another day, another prisoner.
Musty sweaty odors, mingled with those of stale food, drifted through the air. Walking along on either side of their prisoner tightly holding her upper arms, the guards escorted Kate to what would be her new home for a few years. She stared straight ahead, her peripheral vision taking in the gray cell bars, the gray walls, the gray atmosphere, and the empty cells. All the “ladies” were at lunch. She thought the city jail drab and unwelcoming. This one was slightly worse.