by Ma West
Sasha took a couple of deep breaths before her mind was able to clarify its own plan. “Ok, when the room fills with water, it will also fill the elevator shaft, creating a water flow we can use to help us up the shaft.”
An extreme look of terror stoned Emilia’s face. “Are you crazy? After the room fills with water, you might have some superpower to breathe underwater, but I sure don’t.”
The water level was rising high, waist level, and it was cold and salty. The girls were beginning to shiver, and despite Emilia’s initial better composure, her panic level was rising along with the water.
Sasha took a moment to look at Emilia, and it filled her with power. This was the first person she could call a friend, a person she didn’t want to let down again, a person she wanted to save. Sasha grabbed hold of Emilia’s biceps this time and moved in close. She used one of her hands to brush the wet hair off of Emilia’s face. “I will help you, I will protect you, and I will love you.” Then she kissed Emilia’s forehead, and both girls inhaled a deep breath.
Of all the most disgusting circumstances to encounter a large, burly queer of a homosexual, it would have to be on the one day Drexter most urgently needed the assistance. Yet as hard as he might try, the option was going to have to be shoved off the table. “Listen here, fellow, you might be the one on the outside, but I’ve got the goods in here, so you want it? Come and get it.” Captain Drexter was far from certain he would persevere in a fight, but it was far, far better than the alternatives—nothing, or that.
The large homosexual reached in but fell short of being able to grab the captain. Had the captain been a more experience fighter, he might have been able to take advantage of the homosexual man reaching his arm in, but the idea crossed his mind too late.
The homosexual man whistled and shouted a few profanities before promising to wipe the smirk off the captain’s face and leaving. The captain scouted his surroundings, only to find that little had changed. One corpse lay floating, trapped under the bench, while another was wedged in the far corner, its shoe in between some bars, and the lone man still sat with his head in his hands.
With no hope of escape, his fears about Sasha abounding, and his career in jeopardy, Captain Drexter had never needed a hit so badly in his life.
The girls stayed close, cuddled together for warmth, but no amount of companionship could ease their journey of death. The rising sense of panic, the darkening room, and the exhaustion from treading water were all waging havoc on Sasha’s confidence. There was now only a foot of air spanning between the water level and the ceiling.
“I can’t go on, too tired.” Emilia’s shivering was starting to worry Sasha. “Let’s stand on the kitchen counter at least.”
It was easy to forget how much stronger and more durable she was than Emilia. For a brief moment, she felt the way a man must feel—a powerful, strong defender, protector, and caregiver. Yet it was fleeting without someone to do them for. A kick from Emilia’s leg and a gasp from her mouth signaled the time for action.
“Listen to me, Emilia, we will make it, and we will make it together. We can’t go until the water starts pushing hard that way. We want to stay right here because this water will be rushed back up the elevator shaft.”
A trembling, exhausted, and scared Emilia never looked so ugly, yet so precious. “Are you sure?”
Only a few breaths remained, and it was too late to respond. Even if Sasha had the air and time to respond, she might not have had the confidence to even speak it out loud. The girls each took their last breath and held each other tightly as they waited for the plan to happen. And they waited, and they waited, and they waited.
Chapter 25
Cold Dawn
It wasn’t going to work. Nothing was happening, and Sasha could barely feel any movement at all in the water. She cursed herself, as she had once again failed. Fearing it was already too late, she hooked her arm in the weakening grip of Emilia’s armpit. Sasha thrashed her legs, pushing with as much force and determination as she had ever had in her life. Had they not been submerged, tears would have been streaming down her face.
Sasha had never prayed for a miracle, nor had she ever been inclined to, but at the moment, she felt like she had been granted one. The water grabbed the girls, and with a force much stronger than Sasha, the two were rushed up the elevator shaft at a confusing speed.
It was impossible for Sasha to keep her orientation, breath, or wits. So she did the only thing she could: she held on to Emilia for all her worth. A strong jostle from Emilia only worried her further, as there was no way of knowing what lay in the shaft above or to the sides—until Sasha’s left shoulder slammed into a hard surface. The elevator cord kept the rebound to a minimum, but Sasha could feel the hurt.
It would bruise, but Sasha had experienced worse physical pain. Although, she had never found it so easy to power through it before. Despite the soreness of her shoulder, she pounded the ceiling until, at last, a panel moved. Directly above the impact point, something had loosened, so Sasha pounded vehemently until it finally shook free.
Precious oxygen had never seemed so miraculous to Sasha before, and yet so distant for the one she loved. She pulled herself out with one arm, refusing to release Emilia. There was no breath for Emilia, no sudden gasp for lifesaving breath—only a limp, pale body, and Sasha was the cause.
The water continued to sink but left behind a bile grime on everything it had touched. Pacing proved too slippery and nasty a proposition for what it would offer in relief. Drexter’s stomach churned with worry, hunger, and disgust, and a dryness began to form all around his mouth. His day was getting worse and worse.
He had faced similar kinds of challenges before. Like any career officer, he couldn’t escape the inevitable difficulties the army supplies. This time, however, the stakes seemed almost higher than life and death—it was both personal and spiritual. Only the Lord himself could concoct such a terrible menagerie of events.
For the next several hours, Captain Drexter leaned against the upper part of the back wall, internally cursing a Lord who before had no formal place in his life.
“No, this can’t be the end of the miracle.” Sasha wondered why she would be forced to face this alone after just being given a chance. She grabbed Emilia’s limp, pale arm, laid it against her weeping face, and fell face-first onto Emilia’s stomach. It wasn’t much, nothing more than a wheeze, but she heard it, and Sasha bolted upright, waved her hands in panic, and continued to cry.
It wasn’t the fog, it wasn’t a lack of desire, and it wasn’t even a lack of knowledge, but the emotions Sasha was feeling were creating a cloud so thick that only panic remained. Her muscles jumped into uncoordinated, purposeless gestures as those emotions drowned out her brain’s commands.
An unintentional slam to Emilia’s gut made water project out of her mouth. The blunder brought back with it the miracle of hope, and with the hope came a thought, which propelled Sasha immediately into CPR thrusts. Over and over again, she pressed as her tears flowed. Her body was now focused, oriented, and motivated. She stayed strong and steady as she vowed not to let fatigue become a factor. For a hundred thrusts, Sasha kept rhythm and pace, her sweat mixing with the tears, creating an intense stinging in her eyes. Then, as Sasha’s count approached two hundred, the miracle ended.
Too tired to stand anymore, Captain Drexter sat next to the man who had been sitting remarkably still throughout the entire ordeal. Truly, he felt at a loss for words, his brain so bogged down in everything going on that he spoke more from his heart. “Misery needs company, and I feel mighty miserable right now.” He waited a while before speaking again. “Guess we both got plenty to be upset about, including ourselves. I certainly won’t ask anything you don’t wanna say, but I’m happy to listen to anything ya got to say. Sometimes it’s best to get outside your own head, ya know.”
Again the captain waited before carrying on. “There’s something I remember hearing, growing up as a child. ‘Until you the
reach the end, it’s not over.’” He waited once more. “The meaning I take from it changes all the time. Guess its meaning has progressed with me. It may not seem like a gift, but it has been a beneficial part of my life for a long time. Maybe someday it will serve you well too.”
As his speech ended, the lights went out, and the prison sat in total darkness.
Sasha wondered which loss would be greater, herself or a loved one. She thanked the Lord that she didn’t have to face either one, at least not yet. Emilia was not doing well. An immense amount of water came out of Emilia, her body convulsing, constraining, and wringing itself like a wet towel, until finally that first precious gulp of air entered her lungs. Several hard, wet coughs were chased by more breaths, each one working to restore the lost balance.
Emilia didn’t, or couldn’t, speak. Her body lay nearly motionless, her chest heaving with labored breaths. Sasha burst out in a new round of tears fueled by joy and worry. She held Emilia’s hand close, but it still hung limp.
The artificial yellow of the emergency light inside the elevator tinted everything, and Sasha struggled but managed to realize how cold and pale her friend’s entire body was. She ran her hand along Emilia’s face and down her neck, and then she ripped off the tank top and the bottoms. She then removed her own clothes and pressed herself against Emilia’s shoulder and side, giving her friend as much warmth as she could without causing more harm.
No amount of worry or stress could overcome Sasha’s eventual fatigue, and as she lay there warming her friend, her eyes closed, and without permission, she fell asleep.
“Sasha, I must find Sasha!” The words came out in accordance with the dream, but the context fell away as the captain stirred back awake. It would be impossible to tell how much time had passed or how much sleep he got. “My cellmate, my compatriot, maybe even my friend, are you still there?” There was no reply, only the sounds of breathing. “I must get out of here. Sasha, I must find Sasha!” He kicked the bars of his cell with frustration.
Noises in the distance told of stories and injuries as the other prisoners attempted to navigate the dark in an effort to find clean water or food, or even shelter to sleep. Again the captain spoke. “My friend, we can’t just sit here, yet I don’t have any ideas. Perhaps you have some, or perhaps we could create some.” He waited. There was a change in the breathing pattern, to a slightly faster pace. Otherwise, there was no motion or response. “My friend, are you dead?”
This was harder than getting through to a teenage Sasha, who would often break the silence with a snappy remark. So Drexter wasn’t surprised at the man’s tone, only the content, when he finally spoke with venom. “Do you want to butt fuck me?”
“What, what do you mean?”
“I said, do you want to motherfucking butt fuck me? That would be the only possible reason you would ask if I was still fucking alive.”
Once more, Captain Drexter felt surprisingly cool, considering the outburst, more like a father than a prisoner. Perhaps he was becoming more comfortable in that role. “No, no, none of that, my friend. I won’t, however, vouch for that man somewhere out there in the dark. No, I was just hoping you might have an idea as to where we might find some drinkable water? Or maybe an idea how to get out. I have a daughter, Sasha. She’s out there.”
There was the sound of a foot stomping. “I could piss in your fucking mouth. This is just the beginning of our torturous descent into hell. Now piss off, Daddykins, so I can receive God’s wrath in peace.” This was a man consumed, consumed by a demon.
Emilia just lay there—breathing, yes, but alive, still unknown. Sasha cursed herself for being too slow, too weak, and too stupid. She pounded her hand against her head over and over again. Her eyes hurt with the sting of tears and salty water.
The elevator swayed but held true, never springing a leak and only allowing splashes of water to enter the room. The yellow emergency light taunted Sasha as it repeatedly revealed her failures. Her stomach ached, and her mouth was dry. Had she not been in physical union with Emilia, she would have gotten up and destroyed that light by now, yet her friend still needed her warmth.
Emilia had taken to random bouts of shivering. Each time, Sasha would both rejoice and dread the action. Her breathing had steadied, and despite the difficulty with that damn lighting, Sasha would have sworn Emilia even had some color returning to various parts of her body.
At one point, Sasha laughed at the thought that when she first met Emilia, the idea of being trapped naked in an elevator with her was appealing. It was as if her gentle laugh had burst a dam, for a gust of wind entered the elevator and the water level started to drop, and Sasha smiled.
God’s wrath came quickly, encompassing the entirety of his dark universe. It started as tremors, as if multiple great beasts were jumping in unison. Some of the men yelled, others relocated, and one man even screamed, but then everyone buckled.
Every sense told Drexter that the demon man next to him was experiencing the same thing. Gasping breaths spoke out in the dark as gut-wrenching momentum pulled the men down under heavy gravity. No physical presence was touching them, yet its physical touch was unmistakably present.
A gentle lurch in the pull caused one man to puke, someone up higher along the windows maybe, and Captain Drexter might have puked, had his stomach not been empty. The lurch continued to gain in strength, and while he had already been forced to his knees, he now faced the prospect of being toppled onto his side. As his body tilt neared a tipping point, so did the lurch slow and finally begin to move back in the opposite direction.
A swinging arm suggested that the demon man either was trying to fight an invisible enemy or had nearly lost his balance. Either way, the captain was in no position to defend himself, and the lurch was pushing him directly that way. Fearing the violent nature of the demon man, and the fact that no amount of ingratiation would stop his wrath under duress, Captain Drexter dropped facedown on the nastiest floor he had ever smelled.
Sasha’s smile didn’t last long, and the rocking was getting less and less gentle. The water was receding quickly, and as she now looked down the shaft, it was a ten-foot drop to the water, and who knew how far to the bottom. Sasha now faced another choice. She could jump into the water, hoping it still flowed deep enough to support her. Throwing Emilia down first wouldn’t work, and carrying her on Sasha’s shoulders wouldn’t be any good for someone in Emilia’s condition.
Time was running out, as were Sasha’s options. She now projected fifteen feet to water level. She figured there would be a ladder in the shaft, but in the dark, it was impossible to find. Her time to make a decision grew short. Fighting off the panic was all Sasha could muster. Again there was no fog, no guiding presence, just a never-ending barrage of terrible thoughts while she watched as her lone friend lay dying.
A strong lurch in the elevator flipped Sasha’s stomach. Leaving Emilia wasn’t going to be possible, for she knew that guilt and shame would follow her forever. Action was desperately needed, yet her mind was blank.
It was a sign from above that brought the answer, and as the elevator lurched and gravity grew heavy, it smashed down and opened a panel. Sasha whispered under her breath, “Holy shit.” The light came crashing down, bringing along a corner of a ceiling panel. This time, Sasha acted without pause. She jumped up and looked around for an idea, an idea that wasn’t difficult to find.
She really wished this day would end, and now as she and her fingers worked bitterly to open clips and pull pins, she was ready to skip the next week too. Darkness covered the elevator as an unseen force pushed down hard upon them. Sasha’s stomach protested, but to no avail. A jolt shook the elevator, and a loud snap could be heard.
Oh, God, did it stink. Oh, God, did his stomach hurt. Oh, God, did he ever need a hit. And where the hell was God, anyway? Captain Drexter’s mind rambled with curses as he hated every moment of his current existence. Yet he saw no way out of it either.
Suppressing his gag reflex, he
built a stronger base with his knee and lifted himself up. However stronger he tried, it only felt as if gravity would countermand his physics and deny the request. Gasps and dry heaves filled his ear as the demon man continued to struggle.
It seemed to go on for ages and ages. Every foul breath coated his lungs, every drop of sweat slickened the floor, and every motivation seemed a goal too distant. Great thunder brought a distraction but no relief. Someone managed to yell, “Incoming!” but there was no sound of any hustle or jostle of movement to accompany it. As his body started to fail in fatigue, the thunder once again roared, piercing his ears and pounding his brain.
Having a handicap was a pretty foreign idea to a soldier. True, many soldiers were taken from the battlefield with handicaps, but it never hit home until it was too late. The silence that followed such an awful sound could only mean he was now deaf. Again he cursed a god who would take away a useful sense while letting his sense of smell nearly bring him to tears.
With the loss of sound came relief as well. His stomach no longer churned, and his body lifted without effort. The cold was an unexpected, yet hellish, twist. And Captain Drexter simply forced his mind to shut down before he gave God any new ideas.
Had Sasha been only a few inches to her left, any body part beyond that line would surely have been severed by the whipping cord. However, it was hard for Sasha to recognize her good fortune while falling down an elevator shaft.
Her heart sank even faster than her body fell. Smoke was pouring out of the elevator and climbing up through the cracks along the side, and in a moment’s time, the shaft had filled. Oddly, however, the smoke brought with it cold, deep cold as if the smoke had collected every heat molecule and whisked it away. Then, just as oddly, the elevator seemed to stop falling for a moment. Sasha swore she had actually left the floor, only to have it confirmed with her landing. Her wrist and forearm landed first, but it didn’t stop her head from taking a significant blow. The pain blurred her vision, but she was still able to see that Emilia’s body had been severely disturbed. Her mind commanded, but her body failed. Smoke filled the elevator, leaving Emilia’s body in a hazy, dark shroud. Sasha rolled onto her side, the movement greatly sickening her and temporarily blinding her.