Roberta emerged out from the elevator, still wearing her soiled reserve riot police uniform, after the Cleveland's Cathedral detail mission. She ran across to the coma ward, passing Nurse Eker at her desk. She entered Laura's room and spotted her comatose sister on bed, with a bandage bound on her forehead...

Her initial credence thought was that her sister was attacked — by the intruding albino stalker ...

Dr Emma Rickman was there checking up Laura vitals with a stethoscope. Her aunt, Florence Jensen, was also present. She related the incident of Laura falling off her bed — she hugged her niece. That was assuring to Roberta's foment at that moment that everything was now alright...

Roberta now knew that Laura was gradually coming out of her coma, after being entrapped in her limbo state for twelve years. She finally saw some hope that her older sister was on the road to healing — after all those years of patiently watching her fingers, for some twitching signs of revival.

*

A road led to a huge concrete structure smacked in the middle of nowhere, in the Chihuahua Desert in Texas. Five prison-buses loaded with the half-sleeping she-boys drove on that road with three state trooper cars following from the rear.

A few hours ago, the boys were spiked by the refreshments that were served, in the travelling police buses, once they had left the Wesleyan University in Delaware, Ohio. The unconscious orphans Intersexuals were then transported by air, in two army Chinook choppers to an airfield in the desert in Texas.

A black, metal sliding gate opened, and the Texas State Prison buses drove into high pitched cheering Tombscradle Penitentiary's yard — where Warden Graves and the female prison guards were waiting for their arrivals.

The vehicles stopped, the doors of buses opened with hydraulically hissing — followed by the voice, of a huge prison guard on a bullhorn...

"OKAY ALL OF YOU 'GAS UP'— GET INTO YOUR GROUPS — GROUP 'A' HERE, 'B' HERE, GROUP 'C' OVER HERE AND GROUP 'H' OVER THERE!"

The frightened Wesleyan boys in their half state of grogginess gathered into their respective groups, they noticed there were loud jeering greets from other prisoners — the Blacks and Hispanics — both the racial rival street crime gangs were separated from the White Wesleyans by tall fences on both left and right.

Someone peered out from a dark cell window at the Wesleyan boys alighting off the buses below — his hands clenched on the prison bars, of the furthest edifice which was F-Block — where Marlin had been there for the past four days...

He was still keeping a looking out for Dr Jane Morris to come, and take him away from the mess that he had made with the public brawl in a mall — but now, he was jailed here without a court trial.

"Dude, where are the police academy and the damn carnival? This looks like a fucking prison, man — and why the fuck are we here?" said the fish-out-of-water Hank, who then looked above, at the watchtower armed guards.

"Oh shit, this can't be happening! I want to be a cop someday, but now I am at a fucking prison — why the fuck is this happening?" replied the equally scared Kiki-boy, as they squat in Croup C...

Just like the other twelve-year-olds around him, Kiki-boy was trembling — and he started crying when he experienced the firsthand living nightmare of intimidation — by the bloodcurdling shemale gang-bangers like, he had seen arrested on the TV news — they were hollering out at them from behind, from over their side of the fences.

*

Further down the dusty road, the army green cage-pickup truck was also heading to the similar penitentiary with the monk-boys — captured half a day ago. Doran had regained his consciousness, and he was bereaving over his beloved Sister Lisa Marie's death...

He vowed bitterly to find the one called Wolfe once again, to get his ascribed retribution over the cold-blooded murders of his brothers and sisters — and he promised himself that day, that he would keep on fighting his self-bestowed pledge, as a Soldier of God — in wherever they put him next.