I pressed myself against the cool cement blocks that made up the basement walls. There were just enough shadows left to provide a temporary shelter. For now, I was safe, though I could feel day trying to suck me under again.
I had no idea how much longer until sunset, but there couldn’t be more than four or five hours left. I could do that.
I was no stranger to sleep deprivation. The military had seen to that, incorporating it into training and then giving its soldiers a brush up any time there was a field exercise.
Trick was to keep your mind engaged and barring that, practicing physical activity.
Running or jumping jacks was out of the question, given my short chain. I could do pushups though. Or sit ups.
I curled up and collapsed back on the ground, seeing stars. Pain marched through my side and forced tears from my eyes. Nope. Not doing that again.
Sit ups were out. Pushups too.
That left keeping my mind occupied.
What to think about.
Routes. Easiest way to get from my house to work, from work to my mom’s house. Best roads to take if I wanted to avoid the highway.
On and on I went, imagining scenarios, finding paths I would have to try when I got out of here to see if they would actually save time. When that got boring I pictured all the food I wanted to eat again. Perhaps I’d take up cooking. I used to like it even if I wasn’t very good at it. I once burned a potato. In the microwave. The firemen had to come and everything. Mom didn’t let me in the kitchen after that.
When the sun encroached on my space, I edged out of its way. We performed our little dance for hours. The sun advancing, me retreating the bare inches the chain allowed. It was almost like being at a ball. Only without the music or fancy dress.
Any time I began to nod off, all I had to do was remind myself of what I’d gone through to get this chance. That helped perk me back up for a few more minutes.
That’s how I found myself promising to stay awake one more minute. Then when that minute was done, telling myself I could make the next one. And then the next. And the one after that.
Somehow, I managed, watching as the sunlight turned from bright yellow to orange and then finally began to fade, inch by inch, from my basement cell.
Shuffling footsteps slowly descended the steps. I was too tired to even raise my head. My skin felt as insubstantial as two-thousand-year-old parchment exposed to the air for the first time in millennia. I felt like it would crumple, and I’d float away at any minute. My tongue lay thick and dry in my mouth. The Grand Canyon had nothing on the cracks running across my tongue and lips.
“You’re still alive,” the draugr rasped.
Way to go, Sherlock. Want a cookie?
“Victor was sure you would be dead by now.”
So sorry to disappoint.
My head rested weakly against the cement wall. If only I could get up the energy to attack. To do something.
“You don’t have my treasure, do you?”
Finally. He was getting it.
Too bad that epiphany had come too late.
The draugr had sounded mournful when he made his pronouncement. If I hadn’t been so exhausted and in pain, I might have scraped up a smidgeon of sorrow. As it was, I could only exist and wait.
The door at the top of the stairs opened. Victor’s boots appeared.
This was my last chance.
“Y-” I licked my lips, trying to dredge up even a little moisture for my mouth. “You should get a look at his girlfriend’s necklace. You might find something you’ve been looking for.”
The draugr’s dead fish eyes searched mine before he turned away.
“Oh my, you’re still alive,” Victor drawled. “We had a bet going on whether you’d make it through the day. Didn’t we?” He gave the draugr a derisive look. “Looks like you were right, and she managed. Doesn’t really matter though. Just postpones the inevitable.”
