Survival
What was it with Strachen and water? Between the boats and tortures involving water, Sark wondered what the man's obsession was all about.
He voiced that to Strachen. "You seem to have an otherworldly regard for water," Sark said.
"And you seem to not like it, which is what brings us here," Strachen said. He motioned in front of him, to a water tank in the basement. Sark's body was sore and limp from his welcoming party, but he focused on the liquid.
It was more of a pit than anything, but it was filled with water. Strachen motioned to a guard, who moved to a panel on the wall. He hit a button, and suddenly Sark heard metal screeching.
He looked up to see a metal cage being lowered from the ceiling.
You've got to be joking, he thought to himself. The guards pushed Sark toward the cage as it descended. The cage was submerged in the water, and before Sark could object, the guards started to lift him up.
He thrashed about like a fish, but the guards weren't affected. They dropped him in the cage through its top door.
His body fell through the water, and hit at the bottom of the cage. Sark's hands were still bound behind him, but pushed off the bottom with his feet, heading for the surface.
No room was left above the water, and the cage's door was firmly shut and locked. Sark started to panic. His lungs were starting to burn. He kicked in the water, driving his body to the top door of the cage. It was desperation, nothing more nor less.
The water started to fill his mouth. He tried to spit it out, refuse the liquid, but instead he started to gulp it. His mind started going blank, and Sark found it difficult to even move.
His body
sank to the bottom of the cage.
He felt the air on his body, almost cold air. It stung him. That's when it registered that the air was available.
Sark choked on the first breath. The water started to come up, and he fought to get it out of his lungs and take in air at the same time.
Coughs racked his body. The force of his chest expanding and collapsing was added pain. The fitful coughs lasted several minutes.
"Is that the first time you have drowned?" came an elated but rapsy voice. Sark didn't bother to open his eyes, but just coughed some more.
"I would have thought you could hold your breath longer after Burma," Strachen said. Sark slowly rolled to one side, just resting before he dared look. When he opened his eyes, he saw the cage, and thus his body, was suspended in the air, near the ceiling. The water pit waited twenty feet below.
"What do you want?"
It came out as a whisper, and the meekness of it startled Sark. But part of him was ready to negotiate, to dispense with this unpleasantness.
Strachen didn't answer, but just grinned at the helpless spy for a moment. Then he hit the button to lower the cage. The water taunted Sark, coming closer and closer. Sark rolled up to his knees. He got to his feet, stumbling and leaning against the bars. His hands grasped them, keeping him upright.
His feet and the bottom of the cage met the water. That panic started to rise again. Sark shot a glare at Strachen. He looked up at the top of the cage, which was only six inches above his height. His body rose in the water to the top of the cage as the water continued to flood in.
Suddenly the cage lurched to a stop, leaving only three inches of air accessible. Sark sucked in the air, his lips pointed skyward like a fish trying to catch a fly.
"I'll leave you to ready
yourself for tomorrow," Strachen said. Sark held back a shudder. "Sweet dreams, Mr. Sark."
With that, the man and his entourage left, leaving Sark with little space for air. Sark tried to calm himself and just focus on keeping his head above water.
I'm just going to soak here all night? What was the point? Sark shifted his hold on the bars, and in so doing, slipped beneath the water. He propelled himself to the guarded surface, somewhat panicking to get to the air.
That's the point, Sark thought. I won't be able to sleep, or rest at all if I'm struggling to stay above the water and get air.
This technique was a new take on sleep deprivation.
Joy.
"Can you hear me?" came a soft, feminine voice. Sark's eyes darted around to find the source.
At the edge of the pit stood a slender islander. She had creamy chocolate skin, and her dark hair hung in a long ponytail.
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly. Sark watched her amber eyes dart around, as if someone may happen upon them any moment.
A sympathizer.
"I've been better," Sark said, matching her soft tone. "Who are you?"
She wore a simple uniform, almost like a maid. She ran a hand over the skirt without meeting his eyes.
"I'm part of the house staff," she answered. Sark shook his head.
"I meant, what's your name?" He didn't feel bad about his tone; it was inviting, purposely sensitive to entice her to warm up to him.
"Tenya," she said. "Mr. Strachen says you're strong—a formidable opponent."
Sark froze. How much does she know about Strachen? "He told you about me?"
Tenya shook her head.
"He doesn't address me," she said. Then she charged ahead, as if avoiding that issue. "You should be flattered that Mr. Strachen thinks so much of you," she said.
"I'm not flattered by anything to do with Strachen. He's caused me enough pain," Sark said. A bit of water seeped into his mouth, and suddenly Sark was coughing. His grip on the cage bars gave a bit, and suddenly the water covered him completely.
He kicked up to the top again, grabbing onto the bars for his life. His body felt weak still; the soreness from his earlier beating still remained.
A loud creaking filled the air, and the cage rose a bit. Sark looked to the control panel, where Tenya stood, raising the cage with a push of a button. Worry spread over her face, but she seemed relieved as Sark got enough air. She quickly let go of the button that made the cage ascend. She looked around her, making sure no one saw what she did.
"I must go," she said, and quickly turned to leave.
"Wait!" Sark yelled as quietly as possible, for her benefit.
She just shook her head, and kept going.