Mutated - 04
“Her hands were cuffed behind her back. The truck bounced on the bad roads, telegraphing every bump through its worn springs to her aching ribs. Every breath was an effort. Every bump brought tears to her eyes.
“She’s awake,” one of the black shirts said from above her.
She turned her head to the side and looked up at the man. He was a lot older than she, forty maybe. He had a long, stringy red beard and freckles on his neck and face, and a tattoo of a raven on the inside of his left wrist.
She tried to roll over, but the pain in her side made her wince and then she started coughing up blood. Big phlegmy wads of it darkened the dirty bed of the truck. She groaned.
And then she caught herself. These bastards weren’t going to see her hurt. She steeled herself against the pain and looked up at her captors, scanning their faces, their clothes, the way they handled their weapons.
The black shirt with the raven tattoo followed her gaze to his hand and adjusted his grip on the shotgun, perhap...s thinking that she was debating her chances of getting the weapon from him.MoreLess
“She’s awake,” one of the black shirts said from above her.
She turned her head to the side and looked up at the man. He was a lot older than she, forty maybe. He had a long, stringy red beard and freckles on his neck and face, and a tattoo of a raven on the inside of his left wrist.
She tried to roll over, but the pain in her side made her wince and then she started coughing up blood. Big phlegmy wads of it darkened the dirty bed of the truck. She groaned.
And then she caught herself. These bastards weren’t going to see her hurt. She steeled herself against the pain and looked up at her captors, scanning their faces, their clothes, the way they handled their weapons.
The black shirt with the raven tattoo followed her gaze to his hand and adjusted his grip on the shotgun, perhap...s thinking that she was debating her chances of getting the weapon from him.MoreLess
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