“Hard to believe someone so plain is worth so much.” Another voice says as I’m dragged along the side of a white van.
Headlights are everywhere. There must be four vehicles now. The lights bounce off the smoke and the trees, made worse by my blurry vision.
“She won’t be down long, the gas will wear off,” my kidnapper tells the other man.
A hinge squeaks as boots crunch gravel. I’m heaved into the air. Momentarily weightless before the bone jarring impact.
“Ah!” I gasp. Another hit to the face. This time the bare metal floor.
All I hold onto is what the man said—the gas is going to fade. So I focus on breathing, getting it out of my system. Tasting dust tinged with the smell of oil. Dirty, but not a drug.
Move, Jade.I coax my muscles. Trying to reconnect networks. This might be my only chance.
With all my might, I slip my hand up next to my face. Lord, my fingers are weak. Blinking, I clear angry tears, and focus on my hand.
If I can move my hand now, I’ll soon be able to move other things.
Resting, I slow my breath and focus on listening. But my ears still ring a little from the crash.
The van dips, startling me.
Don’t move.Let them think you’re still paralyzed.
“Dose her up. If you don’t want to do it, give me that fucking needle.”
They shift behind me, the shadow moving over my face. Then there’s a man standing over me, hunched in the van as he lowers something toward my arm.
This is it.
I pray with everything I have and kick him. Connecting my heel to his balls.
The needle clangs on the floor.
“You fucking cunt,” he hisses, doubled over.
“What about him?” A voice from outside.
The man I kicked is wheezing. “Second vehicle. Vesuvius wants them both.”
Even though I’m about to pay hell for kicking the man, I hold onto the fact that Ryker is alive.
I roll to my back right as he lunges for the needle. Somehow I knock it away.
Eyes seemingly red with fury, his hand flies out, pinning me by my throat. “If you so much as move, I’ll break your face. Do you hear me?”
I glare at him, breath hissing out of me as he applies more pressure to my airway.
“Who did this? Who wants me?”
He snags the needle, leaning closer. “Wouldn’t you like to know… too bad, cargo gets treated like livestock.”
“Let the man go, he’s not important,” I choke out.
With a horrific laugh, he stabs the needle into my shoulder.
The sting is shockingly painful. I buck under his hold, but the medicine kicks in fast. Not the same as the gas. More brain than body this time.
“I’m going to enjoy watching this show,” he mutters, standing as much as he can inside the van, his shadow swaying over me.
