"Have either of you got any idea where we might be?" i asked.
"The bloody tropics, mate" replied Number 50.
"Thanks for nothing" i said and swipe sweat from my brow.
"You're welcome" he replied. "Beyond that...i got nothing."
He was right though.
It was hot and the humidity was high. We were definitely south of the Tropic of Cancer... Or was that north of the Tropic of Capricorn?
"There is a jungle out there" the woman said suddenly. "A wild place. I can feel it."
"Whoa" said 50. "I think she going all woo woo on us. And being stuck in a prison cell with a nutter is the last thing i bloody need."
"Why do you say that?" I prompted the woman, ignoring the man.
"Can you not smell it? Can you not feel it?" replied Number 47
There was something in the way she spoke that had the ring of truth to it.
I took a sniff and a long listen.
I could smell nothing than what i'd already smelt. Nothing that i couldn't see.
And then i heard a dog barking. And a voice. A commanding man's voice. Was that Spanish?
Then something hit the tin roof, then another, and another.
In seconds, all i could hear was the sound of the rain.
"Tell me more about the jungle" i shouted over the sound of torrential downpour.
The woman leant forward and i saw her say 'What?'
I shouted. "Tell me about the jungle!"
It was no use, the rain was too loud and we were too far apart, the woman just shook her head and leant back against the wall.
Without being able to talk to the others, i had nothing to do but evaluate the situation.
The temperature was dropping quickly with the rain, but the green tinge on the wall told me that this was a regular event.
And i'd heard some Spanish.
So, some sort of prison in the tropics. And in a jungle, if the woman was right.
Central America? South America? The Philippines?
A movement on the ground to my right caught my attention. I turned to see a rivulet of water running across the packed earth. It was coming through a gap at the bottom of the door.
The place was definitely low-rent. The compacted dirt floor would be slick with mud in no time.
But that didn't explain these bands around our necks.
What were they?
The band felt like a fine metal mesh sitting tight against the skin, but not tight enough to impede breathing. And there was that box on the back. What was that for?
Could it be one of those electronic devices they used to keep tabs on low-level criminals in home detention?
I didn't like the idea of being monitored, so i eased my fingers under the mesh to see how strong it was.
That was a mistake
The mesh suddenly tightened, and within seconds it felt like i was being strangled as my own fingers were being crushed into my throat.
If they'd wanted to kill me, they'd have already done so.
I managed to pull my fingers out, but the mesh closed even more tightly on my throat--Now i couldn't breathe.
But somehow i knew that was the least of my worries.
The carotid arteries that supple the brain with oxygen lie close to the surface in the throat. With the band positioned as it was, i would pass out in seconds, and die soon afterwards.
Unless the pressure was reduced.
But why kill me now? What would be the point?
I looked desperately around the cell, hoping someone could help me.
The woman was on her hands and knees, one hand reaching towards me, but still too far away. The others were oblivious to what was happening to me.
Mouth open, and trying to draw a desperate breath. i collapsed onto my side, clawing ineffectually at the mesh band that was killing me.
The world was starting to go black around the edges when the pressure suddenly eased off.
Blood flowed again, and i could breathe.
I drew in a ragged breath and i realised what the point was.
This had been a lesson.
They were in control.