I'm afraid if I try now they'll hear me. They continue talking in unrestrained voices, obviously not caring whether they're overheard or not. The shot earlier must've been directed at Charlie, otherwise they might be concerned about security. Since the shoot-out, I haven't heard any more gunshots, so I have to assume Trey is still out there, unharmed. It's the only thing that keeps me from dropping into panic overload as the voices get closer. News stories of past hostage accounts flash through my head. Kidnappings that rarely end well. I force the image of a public beheading out of my mind. Trey will come. Trey will come. Oh God, please hurry. I don't have time to chide myself for my stupidity because the intruders are feet away. I still my entire body, begging my heart to be quiet. My chest is so tight, my breath comes in with stacato hesitancy. Afraid even that noise will alert them to my presence, I trap the air in my lungs.
