HUNDRED AND TWO

When I came through, my head was covered by a black bag, and my hands were bound tightly in front of me. I seemed to be sitting in the back of a car, and I felt two presences on either side of me.

I let out a scream, asking them to let me go. Panic rose through me. I spat at them every Spanish insult I could muster, demanding to be released, until one of them hit my head hard on the iron behind the seat, and I could feel the blood dripping down my head.

I tried to listen to see if I could hear anything distinctive that would help me out when I planned my escape. I listened as the car soared over bumpy paths, making its way down an unsteady route. It kept on moving for what seemed to be an hour and a half before halting.

My heart raced, and I felt my nerves surfacing even more when I was dragged out of the car. Two strong arms hoisted me up and carried me, bridal style, to what I assumed was their hiding place. I heard the sound of a metal door being opened, and whoever was carrying me