“Coming along or do I have to carry you?”
Miranda didn’t care how cramped and sore her back and muscles were, she’d manage to walk by herself. She definitely did not want him close enough to her to carry. Latching on to the truck, she began to follow the guy.
The room spun around her, her legs stiff and numb.
Why was this happening to her?
The man moved ahead of her. “Come along, then, young lady. Remember, no sound.”
Miranda took a step forward and the floor moved like ocean waves. Her knees buckled and she fell, arms outstretched to catch her. As she went down, she heard a sickening snap in her wrist. White-hot pain bolted up her arm and she stifled a scream.
“You kids,” the man said, sounding exasperated. She looked up to see him staring down at her, his hands thrown up in dismay.
