Riot at Yorkville (I Am Mercury series - Book 1)

By Grant Piercy

Two journalists have been dispatched to investigate a prison riot at Yorkville State Penitentiary, just outside Chicago. All inmates have been accounted for, except one. It becomes apparent quickly that something isn’t quite right about the missing inmate, and now he might be out in the world. But who set him free, and why? This is the first novella of the I AM MERCURY series.

I AM MERCURY is a nine-part serial suspense thriller about visions of other worlds, the stories we tell ourselves, and the things we do for love. Each short novella in the series features a different narrator, a different lens through which to view the events of the series. We begin with the riot at Yorkville State Pen and follow the journalists investigating what happened, the agent responsible for the incident, and the lone inmate who escaped. What do these interlocking stories mean for each other, and how will they coalesce?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grant Piercy
• Release date: Dec 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370838516

Grant Piercy

Grant Piercy is the author of THE ERASED SAGA and I AM MERCURY. He lives with his family in Columbus, Ohio.

Book preview

RIOT AT YORKVILLE

a novella

I AM MERCURY, BOOK I

By Grant Piercy

Published by Grant Piercy at Smashwords

Copyright © 2016 Grant Piercy

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work, in whole or in part, in any form.

Cover art by Grant Piercy

Edited by Emily Zapp

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, organizations and products depicted herein are either a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

Table of Contents

dramatis personae

epigraph

(segue)

1. riot at yorkville

2. macro-organism

3. on air

4. deadly whispers

5. que sera sara

(segue)

about the author

Dramatis Personae

- Alex Graves, a prisoner

- Tyrrell Garrett, a journalist [narrator]

- Tom Stockton, a journalist

- Raymond Tierney, a prison counselor

- Dodd, an editor

- Daz Turner, a radio personality

epigraph:

Come, let's away to prison; We two alone will sing…

- William Shakespeare, King Lear (act 5, scene 3. 1608)

(segue)

They told her it would be awhile.

Why? Nobody else has to wait.

This inmate’s in the SHU. He has to be brought up.

She batted sharp eyes behind round, black sunglasses. Her tongue nervously licked her upper lip.

She signed into the log. The big guard behind the desk spun the log around to read the printed name next to the signature. As she handed over identification, she betrayed nothing.

Marion... How do you say that? The guard asked. She wasn’t sure if the guard was male or female. O-lander?

She didn’t flinch as the guard repeated the name.

Can you take off your glasses? Let us see that pretty face.

The guard took a long look at her, fingers dancing along a keyboard. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she removed the glasses. It didn’t matter what the guard saw.

The ID lay on the desk between them. Her hand quickly reached to cover it. She swiped it back between her fingers and slid it into her wallet.

We’ll call your name when the inmate’s ready.

She sat in a waiting area, marveling at the piss-colored paint of the thick concrete brick walls. It made her think of grade school.

After the guard called the name she’d given, they led her through metal detectors and barred gateways. She was particularly conscious of the cameras that cataloged her movements. She tried not to sweat, but the flame-colored wig bottled the heat. The back of her neck was wet.

She was brought to a dingy room with round, Formica tables and stiff orange chairs. Other inmates in khaki-colored overalls spoke with their families. Everyone ignored when she entered. She sat at an empty table, her purse draped to her side.

He came in through a doorway on the opposite end of the room. He was a wraith, a shade of the man she once knew. Wiry thin, with hazel eyes sunken in their sockets and his hair buzzed down to stubble. As he glanced around the room, she noticed the bandage on the back of his head. Those hazel eyes widened, as he comprehended the red hair.

He sat across from her, the name hanging in the air between them. Marion?

No, Alex, she responded simply. Marion’s still in the hospital.

His eyes fell to the Formica, distant. She thought of the way a shadow moves as a cloud floats in front of the sun. What are you doing here? he asked.

Before she could answer, an alarm sounded—a whirring, circular siren accompanied by spinning yellow warning lights. On the ground, inmates! an angry guard blared. The other prisoners in the room