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She was dropped into the cushioning with a tenderness that inexplicably reminded Susan of her mother tucking her in for the night. Her whole body became surrounded by firm yet comfortable padding. It pressed against her body with the same inescapable pressure as her latex suit. She was being cradled inside the coffin. She could not see, because there was nothing in front of her eyes but darkness.Her world was what she felt, what she saw, and what she could hear. Which was all nothing. The sensory deprivation was inescapable. Except that wasn’t entirely true. Her body still felt strain. Her feet, her mouth, and especially her privates. Even the latex was intolerable, in its own way. It was like a fist was clenched down on her whole body. For a short time, that was all there was. Nothing but her and what she felt. Susan focused on her breathing, just for something to cling to.Then Andrea grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. Each hand was made to firmly grasp her other arm’s. We had to get further away from the river than they’d expect us to travel in case they thought of using them to search the jungle from helicopters. I pulled the boat motor off and sank the boat with rocks, pushing it deep enough into the water its profile shouldn’t be visible. All evidence of our passing was removed from the bank of the river, except for a distress sign that would stand out like a sore thumb to the five superbly trained men from my former military troops now waiting for me to return to our camp with supplies. I couldn’t risk dumping the motor in the river because of the danger of an oil slick being noticed. We made two trips to a staging area I established a mile from the river where we concealed the motor and all the supplies we could not carry with us immediately. Perhaps you’re wondering how I was finding my way back to those sites in the dark? My superior navigation skills I’d learned in Uncle Sam’s Army, of course. My handy Global Positioning System receiver.
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