“Minutes? No, I'm not in the car any more. Hours? Maybe. Days? I just don't know. What I do know is that I'm not dead, so that's a start. But why? Why didn't he kill me when he had the chance? And where the hell am I?! The room I'm in is bland; nondescript. I'm lying on a bed, but my hands aren't bound or tied to it's frame. I'm free to move around, but when I do I feel groggy, my head heavy with the lingering scent of whatever was shoved into my neck. Some sort of knock out drug, I guess, so I ...could be transported without any fuss. I drop my legs over the side and try to calm the spinning in my brain, focusing on my feet until two sets of toes gradually come together to form one. Then I raise my eyes, inspecting the prison around me. There's a window on one wall, covered by curtains. Opposite the bed is a door with what looks like a keycard lock, like the sort you'd get in a hotel. The rest of the room is empty and bare, populated by no furniture but for the double bed I'm sitting on. I stand with some difficulty and move to the window.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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