“Stay!” Chloe ordered the dog as she slammed the padlock shut and rose to her feet. Though totally freaked out, she glared at the dog and tried like hell to seem calm, in charge. She’d heard the monster down in the dungeon whistle to the hound, who appeared more confused than anything else. “Good dog,” she said as she edged back. She had to be firm . . . steady. “You just stay there.” Backing away, she made her way to the door as the dog stared at the shut trapdoor and whined. “He’ll be fine,” she assured the dog, though she hoped the son of a bitch rotted in hell for all eternity and then some.

At last, she stepped outside, but the damn dog was following. She grabbed the door to fling it shut behind her, then hesitated. Should she close the dog up in the house? Locked away from water? Trapped in the heat? Crap! She left the door open behind her and kept one eye on the doorway. The dog seemed disinterested, whining and pacing in and out of the house.

Fine.

She had her own problems. But at least she could breathe gain. Outside the night was thick, the air heavy and sultry, the sound of crickets competing with a chorus of frogs. The stars were out, shining behind high clouds, and a bit of moon cast silver shadows. A plane flew high overhead, lights winking.

She tried to get her bearings as she stood there shaking. She wanted nothing more than to put some distance between her and this god-awful place. But first . . . with trembling fingers she punched 9-1-1 onto the face of the phone.

Nothing.

What? No!

Wait. The screen was dark. Think, Chloe, think. She switched the cell on, but no lights began to glow, no numbers lit. She tried again to make the call. The freak had just been talking on the damned thing to that Myra nutcase, and . . .

Again, she only heard dead air.

“What the hell?” Disbelieving, she turned her head to the sky. “Why?” How could the phone be dead? The device wasn’t searching for a cell phone tower, and there was no indication of low signal strength. No. The phone was dead. She wanted to throw the useless piece of shit as far as she could, but she restrained herself. The phone was evidence and could link the bastard to Myra, the freakin’ mastermind. Holy crap, what kind of mess had she and Zoe stepped into?

Zoe!

Her throat closed. Where was her sister? Why hadn’t she returned with the police and guns blazing? Chloe bit her lip. For the first time since escaping from the dungeon, now that her adrenaline rush had worn off, she felt the pain of her injuries. Every muscle in her body hurt, and exhaustion tugged at her. But she couldn’t give up. Not yet.