Story: 'Night Trials', II

I was away last week. Getting back into the swing of writing is like riding a rhinoceros. There's a new, and even more incoherent Film Bin commentary up at
filmbin.podbean.com and I advise no-one to listen to it in any circumstance. Normal service will now be restored...

Note: Trying to consolidate four figures into a 2x2 array that will look good with a Kluwer LaTeX template is really horrid.

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Night Trials: Part 2
(Parts I , III)

When last we visited, Sheriff Bob has passed out under the influence of the wavering green light that swept over the sedate and law-abiding frontier town of Wandering Yip. Twelve hours have passed.

Sheriff Bob opened his eyes and could see no difference. Wherever he was, it was totally pitch black. He stopped himself from panicking and closed his eyes again. At least then it was his own choice to be blind, and that was better to his own way of thinking. He was untied and free to move and sat up from his previous collapsed pose. He almost bumped his head but instead his shoulder took a jarring blow from a jutting shelf or counter of some kind. Had he been moved, he wondered? Wouldn't that be an odd occurrence?

It was still dark. How could he tell if he was blind or his surrounding were pitch black. He decided he couldn't and stepped slowly forward, arms stretched outward with the backs out so the fingers would bend in instead of out if he hit a wall of something worse. One step, two, three and then a hard surface. Feeling up and down he could find no aperture nor ceiling but the floor was wooden which reassured him greatly. He stepped back and investigated where he had lain, which had apparently been a thinly covered wooden slab with no significant comfort. Further examination of the space revealed a small room about four by five steps in area and with a ceiling out of sight. The walls were unremarkable but a faint breeze from above seemed reassuring.

`Curiouser and curiouser...' thought the Sheriff, `and very hazardous indeed.' He stood still and listened very carefully, hoping not to hear the rubbing of a snake's coils or other noises of dangerous critters. There was nothing except for the sound of his own slight breathing. Kneeling down he examined the floor by touch gingerly, not knowing what he may stumble across. After a moment he removed his bandana and wrapped it around a hand for protection. He found a totally unremarkable floor. How had he gotten in the room to begin with? Either he had been lowered in from the heights above or a wall moved?

CRACK!

The sound was sudden, loud, and came from just behind him and to his left. A slow snigger chilled his blood.

To be continued...