Without a word, they lifted her off of the ottoman and walked her into the basement. Her arms were weak, her back was sore, her legs had fallen asleep and she couldn't walk. They let go of her two steps from the bottom and she stumbled, fell forward on the cold floor, her arms breaking her fall just in time. One of the men tied her wrists and the other wrapped thick ropes around each ankle. They dragged her by her feet across the basement, the rough floor scraping her shoulders and back. Halfway across the room, they flipped her face down, now her breasts and nipples were being torn by the sandpaper surface of the floor. She felt rather than saw them attach hooks to the ropes around her ankles, then she heard the crank turning and felt her body lifted into the air. She swung there upside down for several seconds, legs wide apart, arms hanging limp in front of her. She saw them walking around the room, circling her, all in deathly silence. The first blow was a long leather whip. It. Even the ventilator on deck was fastened.'Gee, it's sure in good shape.' David had a thought. Acting on that thought he decided. He hadn't been down more than 15 minutes but still, decompress is a good idea. The silhouette of his boat was visible and he followed his little bubbles to the surface.Sliding the bobber along the monofilament, he left a little slack, 'for the tide' he thought. Maneuvering his skiff directly over the wreck, he 'line of sight'ed the lighthouse and old Baldy to the north and the abandoned firetower on the south shore dunes.'If I'm not gone long, I'll remember.'David's thought was Mr. Anderson and his inner tubes. The trip back was a lot faster than the putt putt out.Old man Anderson had quite the collection of truck inner tubes. Old, patched and big, he loaned them to the kids in town to use in the summer as floats and in the winter for the snow covered dunes. Mr. Anderson was very popular with the younger set.David putt putted down to the channel (NO WAKE).
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