I’m alive. I’m bruised, immobile, and waiting for the next shoe to drop in the dark. But I’m alive. A gag is tied around my mouth. I bite down on the material and try to push it away with my tongue but the more I mess with it, the more it seems to invade my mouth. The air is damp and closed.

In the dark, I strain all my senses. I can hear pipes deep in the building but there’s no sound of traffic. No street noise. I must be underground.

It’s hard to tell ...