A thin band of light coming under a door was the only thing he could see. His hands and feet were trussed behind his back, stretching his body into an uncomfortable backbend and tugging at his shoulders. He wriggled on the tiles, trying to free up a little slack on the ropes. He heard footsteps echo in an open space on the other side of the door and a shadow of moving legs passed through the band of light. Brad held his breath and listened. The steps stopped and he heard a man’s voice murmur. It was cut off by another man. The second man spoke louder, but Brad still couldn’t make out any of the words. The door swung open and Brad saw a huge body step into the light streaming through the door. Brad blinked and tried to make out the backlit face. “Where’d your friends take the little boy?” asked the figure. The voice was deep and scratchy, like the man gargled with steel wool. Brad thought he heard a slight accent, too. Something about the way “little” contracted into “li’l.”
