Sunrise Destiny

Chapter 3

If shouting didn't work, then how about pounding on the walls? I tried that next, beating on various parts, listening for a hollow sound that might indicate a door. Nothing. It was like punching a mattress. Not only didn't I make a racket, I couldn't even hurt myself.

Could there be another reason for the padded surfaces? Had I finally gone 'round the bend? Maybe my escalator stopped at sporting goods. Perhaps the shelves were stocked but nobody was minding the store. After all, I was seeing pink elephants, or at least phosphorescent red submarines. Maybe the men in white coats had locked me up for my own safety.

That was a scary and depressing thought.

I finally ran out of nervous energy and sat back down on the table-bed thing. There appeared to be nothing else to do but sit and wait for someone to tell me what was going on.

The good news was that I was still alive.

If the crew of this craft consisted of murderers or kidnappers, why not just kill me to keep me from revealing what I'd seen? Or, if they thought no one would believe my story of seeing a glowing red "thing" under the bay, why knock me out and take me along? Why not just ignore me? They must have wanted me alive for some reason, which was encouraging. But why?

Were they branching out into snatching men now? For that matter, what did they want with the missing girls—assuming the two situations were connected, as it seemed they must be?

I certainly had a big steaming pile of questions, but precious few answers.

Another hour passed, according to my implant, and still I sat in the near-darkness. Despite the lack of visible ventilation grills, the air in the cell was fresh, not stale. It had to be circulating somehow. Were the spongy walls porous? If so, why didn't the air leak out into the water?

More questions. If this kept up, I'd soon need to take notes.

One hour turned into two, two into three. It was now nearly dawn and I'd been running on adrenaline for most of the past twenty-four hours. It all finally caught up with me. I lay back on the table and slept, dreaming of Moby Dick. I was Ahab, harpoon in hand, sliding down into the creature's maw, kicking and screaming the whole way.

* * * *

I awoke. What the hell was going on? The fact that I still had no idea annoyed me to no end.  A week of pounding the streets and getting pounded on by Tiny and Weasel—not to mention whoever had knocked me out and stuffed me in this hole—and I was still in the dark. Figuratively speaking, anyway as the eerie ruby glow continued to permeate my part of the vessel.

Why had no one come to talk to, interrogate, or torture me after all these hours? It didn't make sense. Then again, why did they snatch me in the first place? Were they headhunters, looking to mount my noggin on a trophy pole on a desert island somewhere? That would have been a scary thought if it hadn't been so comical. On the other hand, I knew nothing about my captor or captors. For all I knew, Hannibal the Cannibal was piloting this thing.

They may not have had much interest in me at the moment, but I certainly wanted to know more about them.

* * * *

I opened my eyes to realize that I'd dozed off in an upright position. I was still sitting on the table. The cell seemed unchanged, but something had disturbed my nap.

Then I heard it, a low hum, coming from the wall to my left. I hopped off the table and backed away from the sound. What the hell was it? I braced myself for whatever. The hum ceased, replaced by a bright glow low on the wall.