You Are Dead

55

Monday 15 December

Logan heard a scraping sound, the lid above her being opened. She saw in the faint green glow a head appear, the features entirely obscured by a black gimp mask, with goggles. An instant later a searing white flashlight beam blinded her.

‘Everything’s a bit shit at the moment,’ he said, in a clear, educated voice. ‘But look on the bright side — there always is a bright side — you’re still alive. But I thought you should know that you are on borrowed time. But then, aren’t we all, eh? No one gets out of life alive!’

Hyperventilating with terror, she heard him chuckle. It was a hideous cackle, like a witch.

‘I’m thirsty,’ she gasped. ‘I need more sugar. Please — please tell me why I’m here. What do you want? I’ll give you anything you want. If you want to have sex with me, I won’t resist. I’ll do anything.’

‘Yes, you will. You will do anything I want!’ He cackled again. Then his voice suddenly softened. ‘You want water?’

‘Please.’

Suddenly, without giving her any opportunity to draw breath, a stream of icy water began pouring onto her face. She gulped some of it down, but it kept on coming, covering her whole face, pouring down the sides of her face and her neck. She shook her head, swallowing more down but it kept on coming. It shot up her nostrils, agonizingly. She tried to breathe, but choked on the stuff now. She turned her head sideways, trying desperately to break free of it. But it kept on pouring. She began shaking. Suffocating. Drowning.

She tried to scream but only a gurgle came out. She was thrashing, twisting and turning against her bonds. But the water kept on coming, jetting down on her as hard as a fire hose.

Her whole inside was tight. Her lungs bursting.

The water kept on coming.

Then as suddenly as it had started, it ceased.

Spluttering, coughing, choking, gulping air, she closed her eyes against the searing white light again.

‘You talk when I tell you to talk. Slut.’

The lid slid shut above her.

She lay, whimpering in terror, closed her eyes and prayed, silently. Oh please, God, help me, please help me.

When she opened her eyes again she realized the lid was open once more. The man in the mask and goggles was staring down at her.

‘God doesn’t like sluts who break off their engagement,’ he said.

The lid slid shut again.

Who was it? Was Jamie behind this, she kept wondering? Had he set this up? Where, oh where the hell was she?

She listened constantly for any sounds to give her a clue where she might be. She’d not yet heard the dawn chorus again. No sirens. No aircraft noise. Just the constant unremitting silence, except when her captor came to visit.

She called out. But only silence came back at her.