group marching to its death in solemn reverence.
Gradually another thought entered his mind. If this line of death-walkers never stopped, there would be no way he could just stay in the cell. There would be no one to provide him food. There was no lock or latch on the door, so perhaps he was not expected to stay where he was. Was he expected to fall in line with the others? An almost certain death, he thought. Either way, he was dead. He would either starve here in this hole, or fall in line and die in another hole, a pit at the end of the corridor. Silas imagined the line of bodies walking to the end until finally falling lifelessly into some fiery chasm that consumed its victims for eternity.
Silas shook the thoughts from his head and slapped his cheek. The blood rushing to the imprint of his hand actually felt good. Well, at least he was alive. Something had happened to Silas to bring him to this moment. All he had was his memory or vision of floating. He was quickly beginning to discredit the vision as a dream the more he gained his wits.
He opened the door to a crack once more. People were still filing down, one-by-one, the red end of the corridor not yet visible. He lifted himself to his feet again. Every time he stood it was easier. He found comfort in his gaining strength.
The idea of what he was about to do would have terrified him if he had thought it through before he did it. With only a slight hesitation he opened the door, being careful not to hit a person in the corridor, and filed in line just behind a fat man wrapped in an oversized potato sack.
Once in the line, Silas could hear whispering, however nothing could be discerned. He lowered his head and looked at the floor to blend in with the crowd. He had to see where this was leading. The fat man was his frontal shield. His back, however, was entirely exposed to the others behind him. Silas dared a glance back, but found more of the same expressionless faces, people dragging their feet to their imminent fate, whatever it was.
Curiosity was burning within his mind, but he dared not ask a soul anything. He knew nothing of their intentions; furthermore his attendance came highly unnoticed. Silas looked to his left and saw that a man had come much closer to his side than Silas would have liked. The man was slumped and he looked terrified. His curly hair shook and an expression of terror was smeared across his face. It was the first emotion Silas had seen from these people. But then it happened. He caught the man’s eye.
For a brief moment, the two of them stared into each other’s eyes, not knowing what should come next. They kept walking, but their eyes did not fall. Should they speak? Should they form an alliance to weather through the coming storm? Was there even a storm coming? In a short panic, Silas turned his face down once more. He didn’t need to start anything. He just needed to see what was happening at the end of the corridor. Although the fat man kept him safe from any frontal attack he also hindered Silas’ view.
Silas didn’t notice the man come much closer to him until they were almost touching. His heart froze. What was this person doing? He hoped the man wasn’t about to cause a scene. Silas could sense that the man turned his face upward once more, looking in Silas’ direction.
“What do you think is going on?” the man asked in a whisper.
Silas considered not saying anything. He feared for some reason he might be punished somehow, or that the people around him might turn on him and kill him. But if one man were able to brave speech, perhaps the others would find comfort in it. Without looking at the man, he spoke.
“I woke up in a cell, and now I’m here.”
“Me too,” the man said after a few seconds. The tone in his voice proved a disappointment. Silas waited for the man to speak. “Do you remember anything?”
Silas finally decided to look at the man. “Only my name.” Silas neglected to tell him about his out of body experience. He didn’t need to tell the stranger everything.
“Me too!” the man said in a harsh whisper. “My name is Dink.” He held out a hand