The Most Dangerous Thing
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Carly bit back her words as her knees hit the cold cement, settling for a hiss. The sound was muffled anyway, her mouth gagged with a grease-soaked bandana. She strained to hear anything: a nearby train, a freeway, something that could tell her where she was.
All she got was crickets. And not in the proverbial sense, but in the loud chirping of crickets. One was in the room. She could feel it in her gut.
A second and a cold piece of metal pressed to the back of her head later, she couldn't feel anything at all.
How did she get herself into this mess?
It all started with a girl...
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