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   Chapter 55 No.55

My Sister's Keeper By Bill Benners Characters: 7710

Updated: 2018-05-28 11:27


THE TEMPERATURE INSIDE THE DRUM instantly began to rise and my claustrophobia drove me into a panic. Without air, we would suffocate in minutes. There was light coming through the opaque sides and I could see shadows moving around it as the drum tipped and fell on its side slamming us against the hard shell. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it. A drum within a drum. Fear gripped me, its sharp spears ripping my senses. I pressed my knees against the lid and pushed. My muscles cramped, but nothing gave way.

Scott's shadow fell over the barrel and I could hear his clothes rubbing against it as we began to roll—the heavy container crunching the ground like shoes on soft rocks. "This is what you wanted, isn't it, Baimbridge?" he grunted. "You and Sydney together forever? Is that what you wanted, Baimbridge?"

The tank turned another revolution. My right arm was locked behind my back, and I could barely move my left. The temperature in the cylinder climbed rapidly and perspiration poured from me. "Please, Scott. Let her out! She's never done anything to you!"

"You don't know the first goddamned thing about Sydney and me!" His body rubbed the barrel as he lay against it, pushing with his feet, grunting, forcing it to roll in the soft dirt. Sydney's knees were crammed against her chest and my chin jabbed her shoulder. As we tumbled, Sydney rolled on top of me, moaned, and tried to move. We rolled again and I fell into her and I heard the air press from her lungs. Sweat burned my eyes.

"Richard?" she whispered near my ear. "I can't breathe."

I could hear my weight forcing the air out of her as we rolled. "I'm trying to keep my weight off of you."

"It's hot." She panted, then screamed. "Let us out! We can't breathe!"

Her cries pierced my ears and gave me strength. I tensed my body and swelled in size trying to burst the thick plastic container open like Superman, but I was not Superman.

Scott pounded his hand against the drum. "I love it!"

"Shhh. Try to relax, " I whispered to Sydney as sweat rolled around my neck as the tank tumbled. "Take slow breaths." The light in the tank grew dimmer as it rolled away from the lantern until there was none. I forced my muscles to go limp and exhaled as her lungs expanded against me. When she exhaled, I inhaled. "

s. Shotguns. Tear gas launchers. As the tank bobbed in the canal, I watched the scene unfold through my tiny window and relayed it to Sydney. I saw an officer take a hit, heard the faint crackle of fire igniting, and watched the barn as it went up in flames.

They couldn't hear us and no one knew we were there.

As the oxygen diminished, I had difficulty thinking. I tried to get my mouth closer to the hole in front of me to suck air through it, but couldn't reach it and choked on what filled my lungs. The cold water had reached my knees and the euphoria I'd felt when the police arrived evaporated.

Sydney whispered, "We're going to die, aren't we?"

I shuttered and gasped for air. "Ironic isn't it?"

"What?" she breathed.

"I finally have something to live for."

She whispered, "Me, too."

Of all the unjust tragedies I'd witnessed in my life, this was the most unjust. Sydney was so innocent. She had molded a fabulous life for herself…had a…successful…business…and…

Starving for oxygen, I drifted in and out of consciousness.

Think!

"Sydney? What'd you do with that gun?" I coughed.

She panted rapidly. "I…hid it…in…my…"

"Where?"

"It's…" She fell silent.

"Sydney, where is it? Where's the gun?"

"It's…it's…"

"Do you have it? Is it here?"

"What?"

I must have been getting some oxygen through that hole. I wasn't thinking too well, but at least I could still think. "The gun. Is it here?"

"It's…"

"Where, Sydney? Where's the gun?"

Her voice was faint. "Under…my…shirt."

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