Ryder’s Point-of-View
I lay on the cold, wet floor bleeding from my head and underneath my ribs. As I try to look around, my hands and feet are bound by rope. The room is dark and mold-smelling. The entire space is covered with cement rock, and a rat scurries toward one of the walls. The only light in the room comes from a tiny hole in the wall.
I try to get up, but I can’t. The gash on my stomach is so deep that it has me almost immobile. Looking down, I see how bad it is.
It isn’t good!
I cough and wince in pain. The crimson liquid oozes out, making a small pool of blood on the ground next to me. How long have I been lying here? Hours?
It also feels like I have been going in and out of consciousness.
A couple of hours ago, I arrived at this abandoned warehouse. Parking the car half a mile up the road, I jogged the rest of the way here.