"What's going on, Faust?" "Hive B. They're running death matches for rich sickos to gamble on. Warden Lancaster and the guards are all in on it. That's why nobody ever comes back from Hive B. They're not on lockdown, Brisco. They're dead." Under two days of stubble, Brisco's cheeks turned pale. "Jesus," he breathed. "You're serious."