Chapter Twenty-Seven
His arms were bound tightly behind him. Someone knelt on his back. His face touched the surface of the creek. With each wheezing, desperate breath, he sucked a little water into his mouth. Iron-hard fingers gripped his hair, digging into his scalp. “C’est vrai?” a voice asked in his ear. “Dis-moi! Tell me!”
Icarus squeezed his eyes shut, and wheezed for air. His throat was raw from vomiting. His lungs ached.
“Dis-moi!” the voice said again, and the fingers clenched even tighter in his hair, pressing his head lower. Each inhalation was now half water, half air. His panic grew until he could barely breathe. Hot tears squeezed from beneath his eyelids.
His captor ruthlessly thrust his head under water. Icarus bucked and thrashed and tried to dislodge the man on his ba
