I had no idea how long it was before I woke again.
I was lying on a couch of some sort in a large room. I had to assume it was inside the country house and I’d been carried or dragged there by the mystery man. At least I was indoors at last. I still wore my torn clothes, but they’d almost dried out, and, surprisingly, I didn’t feel cold any more. Peering around, I couldn’t see any source of heat anywhere. No radiators, no electric fan heaters. My head still hurt, though the hammering had eased to a dull background ache. I sat up, gingerly. My legs felt stronger, and although my side throbbed, the pain was bearable.
I couldn’t remember the last time I ate, and wondered why I didn’t feel hungry. There didn’t seem to be any urgency about it. However, I had a raging thirst.
Looking around
