She looked around in an attempt to assess the situation. Jesus Christ! Where the hell am I? she wondered, using a sleeve to wipe the sweat from her face. According to the watch, it was eight a.m. A glance at her watch-the face of her old Patek was scratched, but the mechanism still worked. She took a step back, but the man remained motionless. That was when she realized that her right wrist was handcuffed to the left wrist of this stranger. Trying to free herself, she toppled over onto the ground and stood up in the same movement. Suddenly, she realized that a large, sturdy man was curled up next to her, his body leaning heavily on hers.Īlice stifled a cry and her pulse raced. When she tried to sit up, she became aware that she was lying on a rough wooden bench. Her joints were bruised, her limbs stiff, her mind numb. Her throat was dry and her mouth filled with the harsh taste of ashes. The frozen sweat on her skin made her shiver. She was blinded by the early-morning sun, her clothes sticky with dew. The strong, woody odor of gray lichen.Īnd farther off, an indistinct buzzing, dreamlike and discordant.Īlice Schafer opened her eyes with difficulty. The smell of moist earth, rotting leaves. The first rays of sunlight illuminating the tiny blood vessels in her still-closed eyelids.
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