Whack!!
Thud.
Harris hit the ground hard, landing on his back, the impact sending a jolt through his spine. A single light source hung above him, casting his face in sharp relief from the ceiling.
"Where the fuck have you been, you piece of shittt."
A voice came down at him . Harris kept his head lowered.
"Fuck."
His hands tightened against the floor. "Those bastards have the Semi-Saint Anchor now."
He pressed his palms against his temples, fingers dragging through his coiled hair, that were almost an afro , tangling in it, pulling hard enough that several strands came loose between his fingers.
His foot connected with Harris stomach.
Then he jolted back with a sharp sound, grabbing his own leg. He limped to the nearest chair and dropped into it, jaw tight.
Five people in the room. The two of them and three others standing against the far wall, heads down.
Harris kept his voice low. "I apologise, Mr. Quinlan."
