The Servants Of Freedom - Excerpt 1
I had no idea what time of day or night it was. My primary concern, if one could categorize renegade fears and emotions into any semblance of order, was how long I'd be left to suffer in this place without a stitch of clothing. The chill in the air affected me immediately. It would have been a compliment to say that my frame was a mixture of muscle and bone. I was in good shape, but I had always been thin, too thin, and the cold hurt. Killing time in the cold and in the deprivation that darkness brings with it, would have been bearable, even easy, for some. The difficulty came in keeping a clear head. Exhaustion was begging my body to shut down, but the uncertainties of the situation were working overtime to spin my mind out of control.
A man dwelling on uncertainty, in the company of his own demons, can fight more battles than a brigade of gallant soldiers. He can inflict more wounds on himself than any armed antagonist. How to persevere, to survive in isolation, that was the immediate challenge.
Understanding what was happening was difficult. There was no reason for most of it. There was no precedent to fall back on. Trying to guess what was going to follow in the next second or hour was futile and a dangerous journey into mental illusion. Instinct wanted to take over and my instinct was to fight back, but at what - the darkness? Without the face of an opponent, there was only blame and that was a game I refused to play.