Chapter 164

Arabic, Arabic?

Obviously, the man couldn't understand it. He looked around, but he didn't have any clue at all. He could only start dialing, but he didn't remember the number. From the pocket turned, the wallet has been hollowed out, nothing left; In addition, there are only a pile of peanut shells, a medicine bottle and a small wine pot.

After taking a deep breath for a moment, the man dials "911" in the way of international long distance, and "Hello, 911" When the phone was connected, there was a female operator's voice.

"Hello, I'm buried alive." The man panted like a cow. He said out of breath. He didn't even have time to stop. He began to cry for help urgently, "please, help me, I'll be out of breath."

"Sir?" The operator seems to be confused.

"I'm buried alive in a coffin. Come and help me! Send for me! " The man's right hand tightly holds the mobile phone, the left hand holds the lighter, puts on own chest, the line of sight vacillates looks at that weak firelight, the finger starts to tighten, as if is grasping own lifeline.

"Slow down, sir. What's your name? "

"Paul, Paul Conroy."

"Well, Mr. Conroy, can you tell me where you are now?"

Paul closed his eyes painfully. "I don't know." His voice was hoarse and terrible, and his eyes were wandering around in confusion, but he couldn't find a focus, "I'm in the coffin! I don't know where it is. Please, help me. I'm scared. "

"Are you in the coffin?"

"Yes." Paul felt like he was going to be out of breath, as if he had an invisible hand on his throat. The sense of suffocation made his face red. He didn't even have much confidence to speak, "an old-fashioned wooden coffin."

"Are you at the funeral home?"

"No, no, No Paul repeatedly denied, but he was confused because he was not sure where he was. "I don't know, I don't know."

"How do you call me now?" The operator didn't seem to understand the situation all the time. He was still asking.

Paul was almost suffocating, and his brain was completely in chaos. "What?"

"If you were buried alive in a coffin, how did you call me?" The operator repeated his question.

"Er... Cell phone, here's an old one." Paul can't help sticking up to the past, trying to find a gap so that he can breathe some fresh air.

"You use your own cell phone?"

"Yes. No, it's not. It's not my cell phone. But yes, I'm on my cell phone. " Paul's brain has become a paste, and all his reactions are just instinctive. He didn't even know what he was doing. His eyes were blank and anxious.

"When you climbed into the coffin, there was a mobile phone?"

"Yes." Paul nodded, but then frowned. "What? I didn't crawl in. " Paul was gnashing his teeth because he still couldn't breathe fresh air and the operator was wasting his time.

"How did you get into the coffin?"

"I was let in." Paul clenched his hands into fists, closed his eyes and squeezed out of his teeth word by word.

"Put it in the coffin?" The operator thought it was ridiculous.

"Yes, please, help me!" Paul couldn't say a complete sentence any more. He jumped out word by word.

"You said the coffin was buried alive?" The problem is still endless.

Paul raised his left hand and tried to rub his sore temple, but he was scalded by the lighter, and the whole person grinned, "yes! I'm a truck driver. I'm an American citizen. " Paul gasped, as if he could not go on. "It's... It's hot here, I can't breathe."

"Do you know where you are?" The voice of the operator seemed helpless.

"I... I told you, somewhere in Iraq. Please, help me Paul has completely incoherent, in addition to "please, help me", the brain is a blank.

"Iraq?"

"Yes, I'm a truck driver, I'm an American citizen, I work for CRT." Paul's brain is finally working again, he said quickly.

"Are you a soldier?" The operator's question angered Paul, shouting, "no! Come on, don't you listen to me? I'm a truck driver, I'm an American citizen, I'm a contractor working in Iraq, I've been attacked in Bakuba, and they... They've all been killed. " All of a sudden, the coherent words were cut off, and Paul breathed heavily, as if his heart beat too fast, causing a brief suffocation.

At this moment, he suddenly realized that he was the only survivor, and all his colleagues were shot. The sudden loss and loss made him fall into silence.

"Who was killed?"

The operator's question again brought Paul back to reality, "all the other drivers." Paul couldn't help laughing. The sense of unreal absurdity invaded him, and there was a trace of irony in his mouth.

"You said all this happened in Iraq? Which country? "

Paul chuckled. The sadness was so real and urgent that it became a great irony. "Yes, please listen to me, OK? Listen to me Paul shrunk his smile and said earnestly, "the military gave me a security number and put it in my wallet, but I can't find it now."

The operator interrupted Paul helplessly. "Mr. Conroy, this is the police station in Youngstown, Ohio."

The rapid ups and downs of the chest suddenly slowed down, as if time and space condensed in general, "Ohio?" Paul was stunned, and his muscles stopped in the same place.

"Yes, sir." The operator finally recovered, "you said you were in another country. I don't know how you got here. I can put you through to the sheriff's office if you like

"You don't understand. Forget it." Paul shook his head, immediately hung up the phone and looked at the battery - there were only three batteries left, which is not good news.

Gavin had a ridiculous feeling of joy, as if Paul's "911" call for help was a wrong choice, because the operator didn't help at all, the endless questions were never asked on the point, and the fragmented dialogue never really made the question clear. This not only wasted the battery of the mobile phone, but also wasted the oxygen in the coffin. What's more, it was ridiculous, In the end, Paul found that "9 / 11" could not solve the problem at all.

Gavin knows that it's not the operator's fault, but he can't help but worry. After wasting his chance, how can Paul save himself? On the land of Iraq, how should others come to save Paul. The sense of suspense suddenly sprang up. Gavin could feel the adrenaline gushing out and adjust his sitting posture involuntarily. Then he found that his muscles were too tight for a long time, so that his body began to feel numb. But the urgent horror and fear were still stuck in his throat, making him unable to move his eyes.

Paul put out the lighter again. This time, instead of panicking, he calmed down and rearranged his mind. Then he lit the lighter again and began to dial the number.

He first called his wife, Linda, his family and his mobile phone. Unfortunately, Linda didn't answer the phone. He had to leave a message in his voice mail to explain his crisis. I hope Linda can ask for help quickly after hearing the message; Then he dialed "411" to find the phone number of the FBI, but the operator asked Paul to specify a specific state and city. In a rage, he said "Chicago" at will; Later, the call was transferred to the FBI in Chicago, where he explained the situation.

"My team of other drivers and I were transporting kitchen supplies to a community center, and then some children threw stones at our trucks, and a bomb exploded in front of us, destroying one of the trucks, and then a group of people rushed out of the nearby houses and shot us in the street... I was in the back of the team, and I guess a stone hit me in the head, When I woke up, my hands were tied and I lay in a coffin

Paul tried his best to explain the situation, but the agents who answered the phone were always struggling with the details, such as why the children threw stones, who shot them, why the shooters shot them, and why Paul didn't get shot... The aggressive tone was as if Paul was one of the terrorists. He called just to make a fuss, Even began to investigate Paul's personal identity and background information.

Anger, calm down, anger, calm down.

Paul's mood is always suffering, what's worse, the cell phone has no signal! The phone is disconnected! Paul held his breath and began to fight against the wall of the coffin. He searched around for the signal, bit by bit, and finally found the signal. After thinking about it, he dialed his own company's phone. The operator struggled again, introducing himself, explaining the situation, explaining the crisis, asking for details, and finally entangled, She doesn't care about Paul's protest. What he needs now is not the HR Director, but crisis management!

But the call is still transferred to the past, and then is to wait... Long wait... Endless wait, and finally wait for the phone recording. Again and again, Paul explained everything, but before he finished, the recording was cut off.

Looking at the busy phone, Paul was angry, completely angry, "grass! Grass! Grass He was frantically punching and kicking, exhausting all his strength to vent his anger. In the endless darkness, he angrily vented all his emotions until he was exhausted, and then he lay in the same place, calm, calm... Even the sound of breathing seemed to be hours.

Helplessness, in addition to helplessness or helplessness, the deep sense of powerlessness came out through the endless darkness of the screen, which was even more terrible than despair, because I grasped the rope of hope and thought that I could get out of trouble by following the rope, but I repeated the same situation again and again, from 911 to FBI, to the company, and even my family, Every organization and every object has turned him away. It's really magnificent to see whether he's wandering around or in the same place. The shock of hope being extinguished just as it rises.

Gavin thought it was cruel and ironic. The heaviness of the heart permeates slowly through horror and fear.