Realizing this, she froze in renewed terror, eyes and ears straining to pick up any movement, any noise that might give away his position. All she heard was the sound of the wind, moaning and whispering around her prison walls.

Where was she?

She stood up, choking back a sob, her knees and lower back screaming in pain. She wrapped her arms around her breasts and squeezed, partly to reassure herself and partly to keep whatever warmth she had left from escaping into the frigid air. Her nipples were hard little points thrusting out from the thin lace of the bra, the gooseflesh along her arms like a rash.

She saw something. Not much, just little slits of gray, dull light like prison bars. She strained harder, keeping her breathing as soft and regular as she could. Yes, there was some light ahead of her, and she could feel the air moving as the wind gusted outside. She stepped towards the light, her hands outstretched in front of her face, shuffling forward with her heart in her throat.

Something brushed against her forehead and slipped off through her hair. She let out a yelp of fear and swatted at it instinctually, feeling it slide across her hand.

It was a cord. She grabbed it and pulled.

The room flooded with light from an overhead bulb. Momentarily blinded, she blinked furiously to clear away the tiny red dots in front of her eyes. She stood in a small, square room, the walls made of coarse wood. Shelves lined the wall opposite her, mostly bare, one corner stained a deep brown, which was probably the source of the gasoline fumes.

There was nobody else in there with her. The room was empty.

She began to shiver and shake uncontrollably. The cold was unbearable, and her hands and feet felt as if they had gone to sleep. Got to keep moving, keep warm. Her mind had become curiously sharp all at once, as if her senses had been turned up a notch, and she no longer cared where she was or where her attacker had gone. The need for warmth obsessed her, overpowered her. She shuffled over towards the wall, moving her arms and legs as quickly as she could. The effort awakened them and they tingled as if stuck by a million tiny pins.

Air puffed against her skin and she put her eye to a crack. Helen saw what she thought was the house across the lawn, a dark presence among the blowing snowflakes. She was in the tool shed near the edge of the woods. She was close enough to the house, and David would be home soon, he had to be.