Martin on Mars – Secured Log – Day 7,8,9

OIS weasels: Thanks for creating this secured log after my old one was compromised by you-know-who. Baxter. At least we can now put a name to the cold blooded killer. I’m using a new wristband computer. I don’t know how Baxter was able to break the encryption on the old one, but it’s obvious that he did. I’ve changed all my passwords except for the compromised log. I want to make sure he can keep writing to it if the psychosis allows him.

I’ll now brief you on as many of the details of my captivity as I can remember. The last day is still pretty much a blur. Lack of food, water, and oxygen pretty much left me fuzzy, and almost dead. Fortunately, I’m recovering. Though it has taken several days.

In my last (unsecured) log entry, I told you about my first day in the cave cell. My hands were tied behind my back with some sort of zip tie and I was contemplating on how I could somehow use my belt buckle as a tool to get free. I spent the entire next day working on that. I was thirsty and hungry and I couldn’t even see the reading on the oxygen tank strapped to the back of my shoulders. The nose hose was crusty and dirty and was making me quite sore. So it was getting hard to stand it. I did manage to yank the belt buckle through the loops to the back where my hands were. This took hours of painful, wrist cutting maneuvers, but once done I was able to find a relatively hard rock to scrape the tongue of the belt buckle against repeatedly for yet more hours with my back up against the cave wall. I think may have dozed off sometime during the night for a few minutes. At least I think it was night. I couldn’t tell in that dark. The time went by invisibly and I lost total track.

After hours of rock scraping and trying a few different rocks in the wall surface, I manage to get that little piece of metal pretty sharp. I tested it on my finger lots of times until it was wet and bleeding. Then I knew I had something that I could use. I think I cut my wrists twice as much as that damned plastic, but in less than half an hour I had my hands free. I could barely feel them at that time, but after what I estimate was another day, they started to feel almost normal again, besides the damage that I’d done to them getting free.

Two days of no food or water. I swore if I got out of the cell I’d drink Baxter’s blood and eat his flesh. But now that seems a little over the top. I’d settle for beating the shit out of him, though. I didn’t know how much oxygen I had left. I knew I had about another day before dehydration would kill me, but frankly suffocating was scarier. That’s about when god showed up.

A rumble of ocean waves echoed into the room. Crashing and hissing. A voice consisting of the elements of waterfalls and ocean waves that modulated up and down the lower registers. “Martin”, it said.

Then a light formed before my eyes. I was blind but now I could see. An image of thunder clouds shone on the rock wall projected from somewhere I couldn’t determine. Symbolically the clouds parted on the wall, just a crack in the darkness of their boiling turbulence of dark purple fury, and a bright spear of golden light shone down out of the wall so brightly, and so incredibly skillfully crafted in three dimensions, that it illuminated a distinct circle onto the floor in front of me. Between the light show, the thundering water sounds, the hunger and dehydration, I was helpless to stop the rush of manipulated emotions that my body exploded into after the extended sensory deprivation. My skin crawled with goosebumps, my eyes drank in the light. I felt a flood of emotions bursting up inside of me out of my chest. Just when I thought I could take no more, I felt water gush beneath my knees where I knelt in front of the light. I could see a small rivulet crossing the floor of my cell.

“Drink” The voice of waters boomed.

I dove my face down into the mud and and guzzled as much of the water as I could. I didn’t know or trust how long it would continue. My throat was full of cracks and the cool water soothed them. My sanity returned somewhat and I looked up at the boiling clouds on my wall.

“Martin, will you follow me?” the voice of waters boomed

“Go fuck yourself,” I said.

There was a long silence. Then the water stopped flowing.

“Perhaps with some more contemplation, you will repent,” god said, and disappeared.

My strength renewed, my hands freed now, I set to work on the door. It felt like a week, but my sniffer began to beep frantically. I still had no light, and I hadn’t thought to examine the dial on the stupid tank when god had visited. But now the thing was yelling at me. I knew it was only a matter of time before I started to asphyxiate. The panic and adrenaline that came with that thought drove me into a frenzy. I pulled the buckle apart with my bare hands and straightened the metal. I jammed it into the latch in the crack where the door met the frame, and I jabbed it in everyway possible. And impossibly, because I had no faith that it would work and every reason to believe that I would die in that dark cell, the latch slid in on a spring and I pried the door back with my tattered fingernails.

There was no light, as I had envisioned there to be outside the door. No adversary or guard. My hands told me that I was in a narrow tunnel and moved along it as quickly as I could feeling the walls for direction and using them as support. My increased activity made my breath come fast, but then I realized that I was using up the last of my oxygen, and that my time was very very short. For what seemed like hours of this, I passed many branches in the tunnel, not knowing which way I should go. I just kept moving. And then I saw dimly in the distance light and the tunnel getting larger. I called out, my breath coming short and hoarse. My breathing went into overload, and I couldn’t catch my breath anymore, no matter how fast I breathed. I felt dizzy, and I collapsed.

The next day. I awoke inside a pressure chamber with clear windows and Broderick’s somber unchanging face staring down at me. I think I might have seen a slight twitch of a grin on the side of his mouth for a second, but that was probably just a hallucination.


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