Free Escape by Varian Krylov

pathetic, makeshift loincloth out of the way and waited for the pressure in his bladder to overcome his anxiety. Finally the ache in his abdomen blossomed in sweetly uncomfortable release and a portion of the liters of water he'd guzzled since they'd made camp went gushing onto the whitish stone at his feet.
    As Luka turned to go back, a massive black form loomed between him and the campfire. Kosos. With the bright flames behind him, the soldier's face was a mask of shadows, his wild hair and black beard giving him the aspect of a cursed man-beast from a fairy tale. One of Bosch's hell demons.
    “Find yourself a comfortable spot to sleep.” A strained note of tension stretching through the soldier's voice alarmed Luka. Not the sharp-edged timbre of his orders and interrogation in the cave. He thought of the neighbors' dog back in Bijeljina, who had had one growl for every person who came too close to the porch, and a faster, higher-pitched growl that would bubble through bared, yellow fangs jutting from pink and black gums when he was about to lurch up and hurl himself onto an enemy dog. “Go on, kid.”
    All his muscles going tight, Luka moved toward the fire. Maybe close to its heat, he wouldn't freeze, with his bare legs and no sleeping bag. With his boot, he cleared a few rocks from a patch of fairly smooth stone.
    “Sit down.”
    Every syllable out of the soldier's mouth released another pulse of cold adrenaline into Luka's thrumming bloodstream. He sank down, the ground hard and cool and slightly damp against his hot skin.
    “Put your hands out.” Now, looming above Luka, one side of his face lit by the fire, one eye a dark mirror flickering the flames' reflection, the bearded menace was back, madness peering out from behind his dark mane.
    Why was he asking him to do that?
    “Stop making me say everything twice.” The soldier's deep voice was cold and sharp.
    Luka held out his shaking hands.
    “This is just so I can sleep through the night without wondering if you're running off, or reaching for my knife.”
    Before he saw it, Luka felt a noose of rough cord slip over his hand and cinch closed on his forearm, tightening over the sleeve of the coat the soldier had made him wear. Cold panic exploded in his chest.
    “Calm down.” The bearded menace grasped Luka's arm in his powerful hand when he flailed and jerked, trying to slip free of the rope.
    “Don't. Please don't.”
    Futile struggle, yanking back against the soldier's vice grip. Caught, Luka kicked and jerked , scrabbling, stone scraping his bare skin as he tried to claw and crawl away. A massive weight fell onto him, crushing him down on the hard ground. Mounted astride Luka's hips, the soldier caught his other hand and lashed it to the first, loops of cord binding his wrists together in front of him.
    Luka thrashed, gasping. Chest cramping. No air. “Please. Please. Please don't.” The syllables were cracked shards.
    For a few seconds, the soldier stilled, staring down at him. Confusion spilled, muddying Luka's panic as a gleam of something like fear or revulsion played in his captor's dark eyes. “All I want is a decent night's rest, kid. I'm no fucking pervert.” One hand slipped from Luka's arm, disappeared into the darkness, then reappeared, firelight glancing off the blade of his knife. With a quick jerk of his hand the soldier sliced through the cord, shearing off the extra length. Hands bound, Luka was helpless as his kidnapper lashed his ankles together.
    The bearded menace got to his feet. “That's it, kid. Try to get some sleep. We've got another long march tomorrow.” He lumbered off a few feet to his pack, and flung down his sleeping bag.
    Luka's heart was still thumping hard when the soldier started to snore.
     
     
     
    *
     
     
     
    The next day was another exhausting forced march, but they were following the water as it submerged under the table of rock, then reappeared, a shallow, tranquil pool here, a trickling stream further