20
Jamie heard a noise above as a shadow fell over her. She craned her neck and saw that a large chute had swung over the opening of the cylinder. She screamed through her gag and ducked her head as she saw the thick, wet, gray concrete begin to sluice toward her.
The pasty, lumpy stream missed her by inches, splattering and clattering instead against the cylinder wall before sliding to the floor.
As she watched it begin to collect just a few feet below her and rise like a riptide, she knew she had only seconds to live. A part of her had accepted the inevitable, but another part refused to give up. So she struggled against the ropes that bound her to the reinforcing rods, trying to slip one of the loops, but they'd been expertly tied… by someone who knew what he was doing… someone who'd done it before… and more than once…
Frantic, she looked around. On either side she saw a vertical seam. This cylinder wasn't a single piece, it was two half cylinders bound together. If she could push the side of one of those seams outward, bulge it just a little, maybe the rising concrete would seep through it, and maybe the increasing weight behind would further bulge the cylinder wall, maybe split the seam wider until the cement flowed out rather than up.
She stretched her arms wide, to their limits, straining her weight back and forth against the coils around her torso, inching her fingers toward the seams.
The concrete lapped against her feet, oddly warm, almost comforting.
She pushed harder. Somewhere a knot slipped along one of the reinforcing rods. Not much, but enough to allow her to touch the seams on either side. Her left hand was still exquisitely tender but she pushed through the pain, forcing every fiber of her strength and will into the effort.
The warm cement tide rose to her thighs, her waist.
She moaned behind her gag as the stub of her left pinkie began to spurt blood again. She ignored the agony and pushed hard left and right and—it gave! A small section of the right seam bulged outward, letting in a thin shaft of light.
The concrete was caressing her bare breasts now and moving toward her throat.
Push! Push!
Jamie was still pushing when the lumpy tide swirled to her chin, then engulfed her head, filling her nostrils and sealing her eyes.