41
Come find me!
Sarah’s eyes tried to open.
Something got in the way.
She reached up to wipe her eyes ... something slick covered them.
Adrenaline rushed through her.
The arm holding her, the hand over her mouth and nose ... the strange smell.
She tried to sit up ... couldn’t do it.
Her heart thumped hard.
Fraud.
She ordered her mind to be quiet!
I’ve decided to trade a gossip for a fraud.
Polly Conner had sobbed through the statement. Someone else was going to take her place.
A fraud.
Sarah Newton ... you’re a fraud.
The fight-or-flight instinct detonated inside her. Be still, she ordered. Assess the situation.
Pictures of mutilated bodies filed one after the other through her head like an out-of-control slide projector. Her hands and feet were bound in front of her but separately. There was tape over her mouth and eyes. She felt groggy ... there had been a cloth or pad in his hand. It must have been loaded with some sort of inhalant.
How long had she been unconscious?
Focus. Get up. Get loose. Get the hell out of here.
She braced her right elbow on the hard ground. Pushed with all her might.
Her sluggish body eased upward. She maneuvered into a sitting position. Pulled her knees up to brace herself.
Her fingers touched the tape on her eyes. She found the edge and pulled.
A scream blasted into her mouth with the sting to her eyelids.
She blinked. Dark.
The tape on her mouth was next. She peeled it off. Grimaced. Looking around again, she still couldn’t see. She drew in a deep breath, but her olfactory senses weren’t in proper working order yet.
Wherever she was, she was cold as hell. Her body shivered.
She twisted her hands. Tape around her wrists.
And on her ankles.
Okay, think!
Listen carefully for sound while working on the tape around your ankles.
