Thirteen
“Come, Thomas. You have been on the island for many weeks and not seen the beach.”
Pattie is exuberant about sunning herself. I struggle to rise, having sat tightly restrained for hours. And of course the after effect of bastinado brings pain as my feet endeavor to accept my weight.
“Take him for a good long walk, Pattie. With the sleep deprivation it will exhaust him nicely. And take this... for the next phase.”
As I struggle to stand, Bai hands Pattie a canvas bag, smiling uncharacteristically.
As I sense the burn of recently abraded skin touching soft sand, Bai stoops with the turnkey to my ankle bracelets. Similar to that used to tighten roller skates, Bai inserts the small shard of metal and twists, the clamp closing tighter and pressuring the right Achilles tendon. The
