“Alone?” he asks.
He raises the rifle barrel, indicating she should stand. She gets
to her feet and stands on watery legs. He points the rifle toward an opening in the wall behind her. “Go,” he says.
She shakes her head. “Go!”
He takes a step toward her and with the gun barrel pushes her roughly toward the opening, then into a chamber formed by collapsed cinder blocks. The roof of the ruined building is gone, but only spots of sunlight penetrate the area, dappling the scattered bricks and splintered wood and rotted planks. A slab of fallen wall angles overhead and keeps most of the room in shadow. With the tinted glass of her helmet, she is almost blind.
A final shove with the rifle knocks her to her knees. She pulls her helmet off and crawls away from him into a corner.
At least she can see better now. Though she sees no escape for herself.
The man looks around one more time, then leans the rifle against the side of the chamber and bends to twist her onto her back. Instinctively, she covers her body and braces for whatever is to come.
But all he wants is the plastic container than hangs from her belt. Her water. He grabs it from her and downs the entire contents in three gulps.
“More?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Done.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish