Walt gets wet, and devises a plan to escape the net.

Walt woke up to a pounding rain. Before he was fully awake he tried to bat the heavy drops away from his face, only to be pummeled everywhere else on his body. He tried to sit up, and found it difficult, in part due to an aching back. Then he remembered where he was, trapped in the net like a dumb animal. A bit of delirium took over his thoughts: At least if I have to be naked, I may as well take a shower.

Occasional shouts for help had no chance against the volume of the store. Walt lay back as comfortably as he could with his head in his hands, a multitude of raindrops relentlessly pounding his body. He thought to open his mouth and was able to drink enough water to last the day that way. From time to time he turned over, letting his backside get an equal dose of the onslaught. This actually feels all right, like a massage. I could last several days in here, Walt thought as he closed his eyes and made the best of it.

Hour after hour the deluge persisted. Walt couldn't have been more soaked if he had been in a swimming pool. There were periods of great intensity, when it felt like bathtubs full of water were being dumped on him. He made more attempts to free himself from this demeaning prison, pulling and biting at ropes, but met the same results as the previous day. Walt found the best way to deal with the situation was to laugh at himself, picturing the scene as viewed from an outside observer. I bet I look ridiculous. Like some dummy that doesn't know enough to get out of the rain.

"Hey Jacob, you going to give me a hand out of here?"

Walt said that with a wry smile as an afterthought, not expecting any reply. He figured Jacob was upset at him for destroying the Swan Hatch. Having to fend for himself, Walt continued to adjust his position periodically to alleviate developing aches. His back was getting the worst of it, and he found it better to stand for periods of time. But even standing proved difficult due to the onslaught on his shoulders, and the ropes of the net were uncomfortably digging into his feet. He could jump up at try hanging by his hands, but figured he could only last a few minutes that way, and would use up energy unnecessarily. He came up with another idea. Grasping the net as high as he could reach, he swung his feet up next to his hands, worked them into the spaces of the net, and carefully climbed down with his hands, then let go, so that he was hanging freely upside down.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH."

Almost immediately his back felt much better. His weight was being used to stretch his spine instead of to compress it, and that made a huge difference. He rolled his shoulders to work the kinks out of his back, and then hung loose, not caring how ridiculous he looked. He closed his eyes, and let the pounding raindrops massage his aching feet. This is why some people like those exercise bars that let you hang upside-down.

But after half an hour the ropes were digging in too hard on Walt's ankles. He tried a vertical sit-up, but his hands slipped off his legs, leaving him stretched out again. Ha ha, I'm stuck like this. But Walt could reach the sides of the net just by reaching forward, and with a laborious process climbed with his hands until he was bent over double. He worked one foot free with one hand, while holding onto the net with the other, and then repeated the process switching hands and feet. Hanging by his hands, his hands slipped on the slick ropes, sliding down to knots, before he dropped the short distance to the bottom.

Feeling refreshed, Walt was confidant he could endure his cell in the air for quite some more time. As he did earlier, he lay on his back and tried to turn the net into a hammock. He titled his mouth upward again to drink more water. With his head cradled in his hands, he considered the possibilities. The wind could break this tree branch. Or the tree could be struck by lightning, and fall down. I can survive that if I survived the hatch implosion. The island needs me, it's not going to kill me now. Calmer than before, he let his front side take a pounding for another half hour before deciding to change position. He reached up to pull himself up, but his hands slipped on the wet ropes, just to the next knots. It was similar to when he was hanging by his hands for an instant.

Then the vital thought struck him: The ropes are slippery now! Maybe I can move them. With renewed energy, he scrabbled up a side of the net as he did the day before. Getting his weight all to one side, and crouching, he stuck one hand through a gap to seize the main supporting rope, and with the other the knot at the top. It took several efforts but finally the knot began to loosen. Slowly and surely Walt increased the size of the loop, until it was large enough to get his body through. With a measured thrust, he propelled his body upward so that he was out to his waist. His strength then faltered, and the loop at the top of the net cinched tightly around his waist. He had to rest a couple more minutes, the rain pounding him all the while. Then with renewed determination, he grabbed the loop again while leaning forward and pushing with his feet. This got him out to his knees, and a little more wriggling left him free of the net, grasping the exterior.

Walt was very proud of himself, but there was still work to be done. He was still six meters from the ground. Looking around, there were no branches within reach that he could climb down, so he carefully climbed down the outside of the net, his hands and feet nearly coming together at the bottom. Then he stepped off with his feet, and hung by his hands. Wanting the drop to be as short as possible, he climbed down hand over hand until he was hanging from the very bottom of the net. The ground was now two meters below his feet.

Before letting go, Walt observed that the straightening of his back once again felt good. He had been confined in awkward positions for twenty-five hours, and having his spine stretched by his own body weight, this time right side up and not having to conserve his strength, was quite a relief. He shrugged his shoulders one at a time and twisted all he could, working most of the last kinks out of his back. All in all, he hung there for four minutes before deciding it was time to drop. The rain probably softened the ground some, it should be a soft landing. Smiling in triumph, Walt got a good look at the distance, and let go.

SPLLLLOOOOOSSSSSHHH!

Walt's prediction of a soft landing was something of an understatement. Before he could think he had sunk in the now saturated earth up to his waist. Panicking, he tried to lift his right leg out. While he succeeded in lifting it two centimeters, the effort drove his left leg three centimeters deeper into the mud. Reflexively he lifted his leg up, with the symmetric result. He noted there were no branches or roots within reach as he continued to struggle, his stomach disappearing centimeter by centimeter until he was in up to his chest. Close to exhaustion, he stopped moving and had time to think. What was it they said in science class? Struggling only makes you sink deeper, until what was it? You displace as much mud as your body weight? In any case, he couldn't help chide,

"Jacob, are you trying to be funny?"

In any event, Walt stood still, and stopped sinking perceptibly. He didn't want to admit it, but it felt real good. The squishy mud soothed the spots on his body sore from contact with knots from the net. The raindrops felt like a massage on his shoulders, and Walt was able to relax in his mud bath. However, his head and shoulders continued to be bombarded by rain pellets, which still softened the mud some and drove him in deeper, but only by tiny increments. In one more hour the sun set behind the dark clouds, but the rain continued. Walt wanted to stay awake, but was still feeling the effects of sleep deprivation from his stint alone in the hatch. After another hour couldn't keep his eyes open in the pitch darkness, and drifted off with his arms spread out resting on the supersaturated ground.

Millimeter by millimeter downward he went, when by a stroke of luck he was woken by a tickling sensation when the surface of the mud reached his nipples. Annoyed that he chuckled at being tickled in this manner, he had the sense to push the mud away from his chest so that he could breath easily in case the mud hardened when it stopped raining. At first he could feel the mud filling the space back in, but he persevered, and a few minutes later it did indeed stop raining. Walt made some small movements and realized he couldn't get out until the ground hardened some, hopefully not too much to trap him. To prevent this, he twisted, giving his body a little space, and importantly breathing room. While it cost him a few more millimeters, it was worth it. He yawned, and realized that he had to wait for daylight to see what he was doing. For the second night in a row Walt was condemned to sleep in the nude in a rather undignified position, but that was unimportant. What mattered was he had successfully used his brains to overcome the hazards of the Island.