She was lying on her stomach, her hands still bound behind her back, her cheek pressed against something hard and gritty. Her head was cloudy with the remnants of the drug they had injected into her, and her mouth tasted foul. She tried to lick her lips but the tape was still covering them. That jolted her into blinking her eyes open, panic arcing through her as she wriggled against the restraints binding her wrists. Her cheek scraped against a dirt floor. Wherever she was, it was dark, but the hood had been removed. She inhaled through her nose, sucking in several deep breaths. She smelled dust and mold and something pungent—the scent of old chemicals. Footsteps sounded above. She tried to roll onto her back but her shoulder got in the way, grinding painfully into the ground. She scooted onto her side as well as she could, using her legs to turn herself, and angled her head toward the ceiling. There were several cracks of light in the middle of the roof. As the footsteps returned, she realized she was seeing floorboards.
