Chapter Twenty-Six
Seeking a Status Quo
There were ways to gauge the passage of time, if not to confirm any guesses.
Of course it was pitch black in here. Though there were holes to allow him air, the dungeon above must have stayed in sepulchral dark as well. Likewise its soundproofing defeated any audibility. Occasionally faint vibrations traveled through the granite that entombed him, but with no air movement, nothing to see or hear, only scent, taste and feel remained to Alex. And of course these just added to his torment.
Beyond the ordinary odors of stone, plastic and water, was the astringent stench of the half or so inch of body products pooled about him. That was one way of marking time – counting the number of pisses he’d been forced to take. He was up to four, which suggeste
