“I brought you some food.” Sartre threw freeze dried packets at Madsen, along with a small clear packet marked water. Sartre chuckled when Madsen flinched after one of the two packets hit Madsen’s face.
Madsen turned and waved his hands after being struck. “I can’t eat with my hands tied behind my back. If you’re that worried, I’m going to do something, and I would be crazy to do something like that, you can rope my feet together. But, please, can you at least put the plastic ties on my hands so they’re in front of me. I do have to use the toilet.”
“There’s only one toilet here.”
“I won’t dirty it.”
“Yeah, sure.” Sartre paused. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. But I can’t overpower you. You’re stronger, faster.”
“True. But how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep? You
