Surviving The Dead 03: Warrior Within - Plot & Excerpts
At least I think it was two days, my only way of gauging the passage of time was to fall asleep and wake up again. When I was awake, I stretched, did some light exercises, and practiced shifting my cuffs under my feet, back to front. Moving them back was easy enough, but getting them in front of me was still a pain. I kept practicing and got a little better at it each time, slowly building up flexibility. Other than that, pacing my cell and singing to myself were my only distractions. No one brought me any food or water during that time. The hunger didn’t bother me too much; I had gone hungry plenty of times. The thirst, however, quickly became a problem. My throat went dry, my lips felt like sandpaper, and the simple acts of blinking and swallowing became painful endeavors. By the end of the second day, I had stopped exercising and my throat was too parched to talk, much less sing. A throbbing started in the back of my head, low and faint at first, then growing and spreading until it felt like someone had opened up my skull and was pounding directly on my brain with a ball-peen hammer.
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