CHAPTER 17
I slip in and out of consciousness, snapshots of a world I don’t recognize—the reek of gasoline and rust, a roughness against my spine, all-consuming blackness, a drone like buzzing bees in my ears. I feel the drone, too, a steady vibration in my muscles.
It’s the pain in my wrists that finally snaps me out of it, a sharp blade-like sensation over the fine bones near my thumb. I force my eyes open.
I see only darkness.
Am I blind? No, I don’t think so—it’s just dark in here. I’m on my side, my hip aching from the bumping of the platform I’m lying on. I reach forward, then up toward the ceiling, but both of my wrists move at the same time—they’re bound together. My ankles are bound, too, but not with the rough prickle of rope. Zip ties. I can’t see them in front of my face, c
