TWENTY
The weight of the hopsack was pulled from my head but it didn't do my eyes any good. It was pitch black, wherever we were.
Time was muddled. I had lost track of it, lost track of everything. We had struggled against the invisible assailants but there had been too many and they had gotten the jump on us. Any chance I had to react had been ripped from me as pain flooded the recesses of my body.
My wounded knee, my ribs, even the gunshot in my arm had all had their moment in the spotlight, each a bright spot of pain flaring up in the darkness behind the musty scent that lingered in the hopsack. The pulls, pushes, shoves, pokes, kicks, and punches drummed against me as I was half carried, half dragged to this black abyss.
My kidnappers didn't speak, but they weren't silent. A shuffl
