Capítulo 166: A twist
"Zi, zi, zi," just as all the spectators thought the movie had ended, and Paul had been buried alive as implied by the film's title, the vibration of a mobile phone resounded once more, rekindling hope in every audience member. That sense of urgent restlessness, though forcibly suppressed, ignited anew, the fear of missing any sound that might herald the impending reversal.
Chanelle had always mocked how Hollywood movie protagonists never died, like immortal cockroaches, a notion she found genuinely repulsive. But in this moment, she harbored an unprecedented wish that this movie could be clichéd, following the typical Hollywood ending, allowing Paul to survive. Her hands clenched into fists so tightly that her muscles began to ache from the strain.
On the other end of the phone was the kidnapper. The army had killed another group of people, reigniting Paul's hope.
However, the kidnapper demanded that Paul record a video, and cut off his finger. Otherwise, they would not cease. They knew Paul's address, where Linda and Shawn resided. Paul's heart froze instantly, a light brighter than hope gleamed in his eyes, his tone menacingly laced with desperation as he tried to bluff the kidnappers, believing they were merely trying to frighten him. Yet he didn't dare to take the risk.
The sand was pouring in faster and faster, and in the blink of an eye, Paul's body was mostly buried. He quickly dialed Linda's phone, warning them to leave immediately, as staying at home meant danger to their lives. The lid of the coffin was already riddled with holes, sand falling like a river, cascading down in chunks, slowly burying him beyond visibility.
Next, Paul dialed Dan's number, but it was a voicemail. He had to quickly inform Dan that the kidnappers were still alive; there was no time left, as the kidnappers had given him only five minutes to record the video.
Chanelle averted her gaze in unbearable distress. She knew Paul would do this, he would do it. The torment and pain in her heart made her feel trapped between fire and water. She looked at Tessa, who covered her eyes with her hands but couldn't resist peeking through the gaps. Chanelle forced herself to look at the big screen again, and then she saw—
Paul clenched the cloth, and with all his strength, he tried to sever his left pinky finger. Yet, the bone was too hard, and it still wouldn't cut. He had to start sawing back and forth, trying to grind the bone away with the blade, the excruciating pain mingling with the dull cries. She could even see Paul's pupils dilating, his agony plunging him into momentary blankness. Sweat on his forehead blurred his cheeks.
Chanelle could no longer hold back; scalding tears streamed down her face. Her stomach was churning as if she might vomit up all of today's lunch at any moment. The utmost fear, the tightly coiled confusion, robbed her of all control over her thoughts.
After sending the video, Paul fell into a half-conscious state. His eyes remained wide open, but the focus had faded. He gazed upward at the sand continually falling, gradually burying his head. It was as if he could clearly witness the air dissipating, yet Paul showed no reaction. He lay lifeless, devoid of vitality, time and space seemingly losing all meaning.
The phone vibrated once again, but Paul remained unresponsive, merely awaiting death's arrival in tranquility. Hope flared up again and again, only to be extinguished repeatedly. It seemed to have sapped every ounce of Paul's strength. Even Chanelle, even Gavin, even Bradley were caught in a standstill, gaping, watching as life slowly dissipated from those pupils. The world seemed to shatter, leaving words colorless and emotions void of vigor.
"Move to the side, quickly! Quickly!" shouts echoed from a distance, approaching. The entire coffin began to shake violently, and then the sound grew clearer. A beam of sunlight broke through the darkness, casting away death's pallor and rigidity from Paul's cheeks. "I see him! Hurry! Step back, everyone, step back!"
Saved. The hostage was saved. Paul was saved. "Talk to me, Paul! Talk to me!" Dan's voice resonated from above.
Chanelle raised her hand to cover her mouth, but even so, her sobbing sounds leaked out. He was saved, he was finally saved. The relief of a narrow escape shattered all of Chanelle's defenses. Tears burst forth uncontrollably. If she hadn't covered her mouth, she would have wanted to cry out loud.
"Ah." A sound echoed, the sunlight retreated, and the scene returned to Paul's face. The numbness and stagnation in his eyes still lingered, unchanged. Chanelle's crying suddenly ceased.
Was it all an illusion?
This thought struck him like a comet colliding with the Earth, leaving him completely stunned. Even his breath had been forgotten. The confusion and astonishment in his eyes echoed. Who could tell him that this wasn't real? That none of this was real? Paul was saved, he should have been saved!
Paul answered the phone, and on the other end was Dan, his voice urgent. "Paul, we're coming for you now, can you hear me? We know where you are!"
"You're coming?" Paul struggled to react.
"We are, Paul." Dan's phone captured the sound of rapidly rolling tires and the roaring engine full of vitality. "We're almost there now!"
Gavin couldn't contain his excitement and stood up, but as soon as his butt left the chair, he sat back down. His hands clenched into fists, the fear that had wrapped around him seemed to shatter in this moment. The icy blood once again surged, an overwhelming joy that he couldn't control.
"Coalition forces picked up a Shiite insurgent just outside of Baghdad. Said he knew where an American was buried alive. He agreed to show us where if we let him go."
Dan's explanation finally brought Paul back to reality. He started scanning up and down, attempting to find a gap in the sea of sand, as if he could free himself in the next second. "You're coming for me?" Paul's voice was hoarse and dry, emerging as if from the depths of the earth. Yet, the shattered look in his eyes was gradually piecing back together. The deep confusion once again found its brilliance.
"We're practically there already," Dan said with confidence.
"You... Uh, you have to hurry, hurry..." Paul's gaze held a faint halo, like a layer of mist, like a hint of vitality. "You... You... Sand... It's filling up fast."
"Just hang in there for three more minutes. This will all be over soon, I promise!" Dan continuously offered Paul hope, causing his voice to tremble. "Okay. I believe you. Thank you. Thank you."
"Three minutes, just three minutes!" Dan kept emphasizing, but Paul saw an incoming call on his phone. He had to disconnect from Dan's call and answer the new one. "Linda! Linda!" Paul came alive all of a sudden, as if he had traversed from the depths of death's hell, brimming with vitality in his words.
Chanelle couldn't contain her sobs. She had never known that she could be moved to tears by such a Hollywood-style happy ending. She had never known that she could be ecstatic over such a clichéd yet beautiful conclusion. But in this moment, as Paul called his wife's name with a full heart, she was truly touched, tears streaming down her face.
"What are they doing to you? Please tell me you're okay. I just saw the news. What...oh my
God, baby. I missed all your calls. I left my cell phone at home." Linda, too, was unable to articulate her words, her choked voice trembling, her speech disjointed.
"They found out where I am and they're on their way to get me. They are Americans." Paul was also in tears of joy, revealing a smile once again. The sand was increasing, already completely burying his chest. Now only his face was above, allowing him to breathe, but Paul didn't care. He beamed, comforting his wife, "It's all going to be okay."
"Thank God! Thank God!" Linda on the other end was already completely overwhelmed, her words drowned out by her sobbing.
"They're coming, they're on their way. Everything will be fine, it will all be fine." Paul repeated steadfastly, the brilliance bursting from his pupils, as if he could escape to safety in the next second. "I love you, I love you very much. I should have never come here. You were right. I'm sorry." The thickness in his voice betrayed Paul's current guilt and excitement, and the drought of tears resurged.
"Sweetie, I don't care. I just want you home. Please come home to me." Linda called out affectionately.
"I will!" Paul said, "I promise, I promise!" Then Dan called again, and Paul had to disconnect, Linda's urgent voice coming through, "I love you, I really love you so much, darling, can you promise me again? Promise me!"
"I swear I will!" Paul's voice choked involuntarily, his breath stopping in that instant, as if only a millisecond, yet it seemed like an eternity. Then he answered Dan's call. The sound of an iron shovel came through on the other end. Dan's excited voice spoke, "We're here, right here. Paul, hold on, hold on!"
The entire coffin was almost packed, leaving only thin seams. Paul's cheeks were already covered with sand. "You have to hurry up, it is almost full."
"Just hang in there!" Dan continued to cheer Paul on, "Almost there, almost there! We see the coffin, we see it!"
"Faster, faster!" Paul could no longer hold on. The flashlight's beam was gradually buried, and Paul clung to the coffin lid, his voice growing more earnest, more urgent, and weaker. "Open it, open it quickly!" He could clearly touch the light of life, while the darkness of death chased him from behind. Just one more step, just one tightly held step, and he could escape to safety. "Hurry! Hurry! Oh God! Oh God!"
"Oh my God," Dan's voice came through, filled with despair... Silence, a long silence, a silence that froze the world in coldness. "I'm so sorry, Paul. It's Mark White. He led us to Mark White's burial site. I'm so sorry, truly sorry."
The sand completely buried the flashlight, the last hint of light vanished. Then, the entire coffin was filled. Paul, too, vanished. The big screen, once again, fell into darkness.
Gavin was frozen, Chanelle was frozen, Tessa was frozen. Everyone in the entire theater was frozen. Everything happened too suddenly. They were lifted high and then slammed down hard. All hope shattered into countless pieces, leaving them standing still, their minds stopped spinning, even their souls utterly immobilized.
Gavin felt a suffocating sensation, and the icy fear consumed his mind entirely.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
Shallowman
Shallowman The Chinese-speaking folk are sure blessed. They have total access to novels in their own native language, and we have the scraps.
The song of the chupster is "Alexander Volosnikov - Things You Left Behind"
Estado de energía semanal
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