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I wake up with a jolt and attempt to move, but find myself restrained for some reason. Did someone tie me up again?
As my eyes adjust to the light, I realize my vision is somewhat restricted too. However, I can see, which means I’m not wearing a bag over my head. How crazy would it be if my second trip to see my Enlightened grandparents once again had all the comforts terrorists enjoy on their way to a secret prison?
The world whooshes past me so fast that, for a moment, I wonder whether the plane is plummeting toward earth. In that case, the fact that I’m tied up doesn’t matter.
A shot of adrenaline clears the remaining sleepiness from my brain.
The good news is that I’m not plummeting from the sky while inside a metal coffin.
The bad news is that I’m inside a metal (with too muc
