The needle slid into the skin of his arm without warning. Yet instead of flinching, he turned his head towards the location of the sharp pinch.
He couldn't see with the heavy blindfold on. Nor could he hear, as his ears had been stuffed with small bits of wool. But he could feel, and the shifting air currents that brushed against his bare flesh told him all he needed to know.
His lips lifted into a faint smile.
One, he thought. Two behind him. Three more by the door. And a whole regiment outside just in case.
He flexed his shoulders, corded muscle rippling beneath his skin. With multiple iron manacles binding his arms behind his back from wrist to elbow, it was one of the few movements he could still make. The iron collar around his neck dug into his flesh, and the four chains that hooked it to the floor jangled.
A breeze suddenly ghosted across his face. That meant someone had just moved very quickly - almost as if they had hastily backpedaled.
The air settled and held still. Neither was there any subtle vibrations coming from the hard rock beneath his knees. No one moved. They kept their distance, waiting for the sedative they'd injected him with to take effect.
It didn't take long. Lethargy settled over him, blanketing him like a fog. Weakness took hold and gravity suddenly seemed to be a terrific force, bearing down upon him.
He lowered his head, letting his chin rest against his chest. Still, his slight smile never faded, for as restrained and weakened as he was, he could nearly taste the sour tang of fear that flooded the room.
His captors were wise to be cautious. But even so, they were fools.
***
**
At 3am, the girl flies into the store like a hurricane, making the bells chime wildly over the door.
Behind the counter, Raoul looks up from his book. His appearance is plain, with a nose too big for his face and acne-scarred skin, yet his eyes are dark and calm. He observes his new visitor.
The girl is a mess, red faced, out of breath, with wild hair and one of her scuffed shoes untied. Her brown eyes are wide and teary. There's something in her hands, a tiny bundle that she clutches tight to her chest.
She peers down each of the four isles, like she's looking for somebody. But other than him, there's no one here.
Her shoulders sag, either in relief or despair. She turns toward him, but doesn't speak. It looks like she wants to say something, but yet she hesitates.
Raoul exhales softly, and closes his book. He sets it on the counter. Then he regards the distraught girl with a patient smile. "Can I help you?"
Instead of answering, she looks out through the store window. There's nothing but the two gas pumps, illuminated by yellow lights.
