When finally his voice was lost to the wind, the inmates looked around at the guards’ stern faces.
“You’re no better than us,” Novak said, to Bishop, speaking for all of them. “All you have, is that pistol, but that thing ain’t gonna keep you safe when that man goes back to Montreal with his story, now is it―”
“Shut up, you dumb Pole, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Dumb Pole. Dumb Pole.” Novak laughed darkly. There was a madness in his blue eyes. “That’s all you can ever say. Yeah well, we may be sons of French whores and dumb Poles. Dirty Jews and Italian beasts, but we didn’t chose to be here.” He spat to the side, eying Bishop, then the other guards. “You did. You’re in the Icebox ‘cause you ain’t got the balls to make it out there, in the real world―”
“I’ll kill you right now.”
