Twelve
Victoria lay on the hard rock-covered ground, squirming as she pulled hard against the bonds that again held her hands behind her back. At the same time she tried to loosen and spit out the length of dirty cloth they’d used as a gag. The ropes burned her wrists as she struggled.
Each time there was a shot fired, it made her fear the worst. Maybe her rescuers had been murdered by these villains.
It was no use, the ropes were too tight. She lay under a stand of pine trees, the earthy smell of cast-off needles mingled with the brown soil beneath the trees. The crows had been calling loudly to each other earlier from tree branches high overhead but had stopped when the sound of gunfire echoed across the meadows between the rolling hills. Now an alarming quiet had settled over the for
