Probably wanting to avoid notice, the guy dropped the arm from my neck, stepped close, and lowered the gun to my back.

On rubber legs, I took a few very small steps.

“The truck.”

I hesitated. Every cop I know says, If taken, never enter a vehicle. Once inside, your chance of escape plummets.

The muzzle gouged deeper into my spine. “Don’t fuck with me.”

I walked as slowly as I dared. Two feet out, I stopped.

I felt the guy’s gun hand tense. I pictured the long dark tunnel, the bullet tearing through my bones, my heart, my lungs.

Instead, my assailant pushed me forward into the side of the pickup. With the gun back in place, he yanked my purse from my shoulder. “Get in.”

I didn’t move.

“I said get the fuck in.”

Maybe fear. Maybe boldness. I believed he would shoot me but remained frozen.

I felt his body shift. Saw movement in the corner of my eye.

A shadow crossed my face.

I heard a sound like the snap of a piano wire.

The world broke into millions of white particles.

Went black.

*  *  *

I was at the bottom of a deep, dark pit, struggling to climb out and getting nowhere. A moth flailing in sap slowly turning to amber.

The pit shifted.

A pinpoint of light appeared overhead.

I strained to reach it.

Slowly swam upward.

To consciousness.

The place I was in sounded hollow.

I smelled moisture. Ancient rock and soil. An acrid scent unfamiliar to me.

The world lurched.

My body shifted.

I was curled fetal on a cold, gritty surface.

I listened.

Heard the crunch of rubber on gravel. A soft humming.

I was in a vehicle. But not a car. The engine was wrong.

A flash image. The parking lot. The SUV.

The gun!

I lifted my head.

Almost screamed.

I lay back until the pain and dizziness passed.

The pressure on my body changed. The vehicle was moving downhill.

I tried to roll to my back.

My arms wouldn’t move. My legs wouldn’t move.

Dear God! I’m paralyzed!

My heartbeat kicked into high.

The adrenaline helped.

Sensation crept back.

I felt tingling in my cheeks and fingertips. Drought in my mouth, my eyes.

I tried to swallow. Could barely muster sufficient saliva.

I attempted to open my lids. They were crusted shut. I blinked them apart.

Inky black.

The vehicle stopped. The motor cut off.

I held my breath.

Voices. Male. Close but all around. How many?

Trickling water. A faucet? A stream?

Boots on gravel. One pair to the left, one to the right. Moving away? Approaching?

Every noise echoed back onto itself. Nothing was clear.

The voices grew louder. Ricocheted wildly. Two? Three?

Banging.

More voices.

Footsteps.

I froze.

The footsteps clomped toward me.

Continued past.

Receded.

The pounding in my chest was supersonic.

I had to do something.