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    13 in a Container
    13 in a Container
    13 in a Container
    Ebook151 pages1 hour

    13 in a Container

    By David Kesting

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A man with no name wakes up in a confined space.

    It is dark and dank, with little breathable air.

    The man soon realizes that he is not alone.

    He is given a time limit to solve a problem.

    To decipher a puzzle.

    To discover a truth from his past.

    His life depends on finding the correct answers.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDavid Kesting
    Release dateJul 7, 2019
    ISBN9781386568445
    13 in a Container

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      Book preview

      13 in a Container - David Kesting

      CHAPTER 1

      A sharp, jabbing pain at the base of my skull.

      An adrenalin rush coursing rapidly throughout my nervous system.

      My brain bursts to a higher consciousness like a Roman candle.  

      Low, mumbling voices behind me.

      Steel mashing roughly against steel.

      The sound of the final crash of metal reverberates in my head like an echo.

      Silence.

      I am lying on my left side.

      I try to reposition myself onto my back.

      I cannot move my legs apart.

      I panic, tearing at what is binding them together.

      I soon realize that my right and left legs are simply entwined together.

      I untangle my legs and lay on my back.

      I scold myself for panicking.

      The surface below me shifts in an awkward movement.

      A second much more violent twisting of the surface follows.

      I roll back and forth on a damp metal surface like a child at play.

      My eyes are reluctant to fully open despite the apparent danger.

      Fear is tugging at my brain, opting for a retreat to a safer state of unconsciousness.

      I push back hard, forcing my eye lids open to a dull light.

      Four track lights are lit just above me, hanging on a strip of metal, attached to a low ceiling of rusty steel panels.

      I become aware of a variety of smells.

      Burning wires.

      Salt air intermixed with stale air.

      The stench of grime.

      Droplets fall on my neck, cheeks and then my forehead.

      I shield my face with my right hand. I wave my left hand to catch droplets on my fingers.

      I taste the water. It isn’t salty. Fresh liquid. Untainted.

      Rain?

      I think that I can make out the sound of a storm raging outside.

      Outside of what?

      Where am I?

      CHAPTER 2

      Heavy breathing.

      It is not my own intake and out take of air.

      Neither is it the breathing of another human being.

      This rapid expenditure of air is happening nearby, close to where I am still lying on my back.

      I rise up at the waist, balancing myself, with my arms and hands behind my back.

      The energy needed to perform these simple movements zaps my strength.

      Before I can locate the source of the breathing, I fall back with a thud onto the hard metal surface.

      A sudden whining sound starts up.

      It causes my eyes to open again.

      Very wide this time.

      Fear can swing your brain into another direction, generating a rapid clarity of the senses.

      Who’s there? I ask into the bleak semi-dark space.

      The heavy breathing begins again, followed by a scratching sound.

      The scratching starts and stops as it comes closer to me.

      The room shifts left and then right in a radical movement.

      I brace myself to prevent any further rolling to and fro.

      The shifting of the floor causes the four track lights directly above me to rock back and forth.

      The nose of a dog flashes in and out of the shifting beams of artificial light.

      It’s all too much. My brain is shutting down again.

      A wet nose jabs into my right ear.

      A long tongue begins slapping the side of my cheek at a rapid rate.

      A constant, rhythmic barking blasts into my right ear.

      I open my eyes again.

      More barking close to my face, this time in a triumphant tone.

      I turned my head a bit.

      A large German shepherd is inches from my face.

      Its eyes are alive with joy.

      I rise up my head at the neck and shoulders.

      As the floor shifts left and right, I can see a tail flapping in the air.

      I turn on my right side.

      I grimaced.

      The German shepherd pushes me onto my back with its front paws.

      It barks in a low tone and squeals with concern.

      I force myself off the wet metal surface, using the dog as leverage.

      I twist my entire body around, rising up onto my knees.

      I sit back on my hunches.

      I move my head left and right, stretching out my neck muscles.

      I swing my arms in the air, hoping to release the tension within my body.

      I glance against something plastic with the fingers of my right hand.

      I jab my right hand into the semi-darkness.

      The tips of my fingers come in contact with a plastic container.

      I grab for it.

      I lift the container up to the light.

      It is a full gallon bottle of water.

      I rip off the cap and greedily gulp down the liquid.

      The dog moves closer to me. It starts to breathe hard, with its tongue hanging out.

      Water? I ask. Here.

      I float water from the spout onto the cupped palm of my left hand. The dog laps the water up before any drops can hit the surface.

      You are my what? I ask the animal as I recap the jug.

      The German shepherd gives me an encouraging short bark.

      My guardian or jailer?

      The dog leaps to all fours and barks as if asking, ‘What can I do for you’

      I notice a collar on the dog’s neck. There is a metal tag hanging from it. I reach for the collar and examine the tag, twisting it in the weak light.

      So you are Millie, recently retired from the United States Marine Corps?

      The German shepherd barks with a mixture of joy and pride at the mention of her name. The dog then relaxes a bit and sits on its hind quarters.

      I take inventory. All my pockets are empty.

      I am wearing the same faded black jeans, black tee shirt and rough terrain boots as when I made a liquid run in the late afternoon.

      I was staying at a fishing cabin near the tip of the Baja Peninsula below the border.

      I remember getting out of my car to investigate a two vehicle accident that was blocking the narrow dirt road.

      Men were arguing.

      I tried to play the peacemaker.

      It had all gone dark without any violent interaction.

      Now this place.

      CHAPTER 3

      Still cloaked in darkness, the forward part of this enclosure suddenly bucks upwards.

      The flooring drops from beneath me.

      The dog and I are suspended in the

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