Chapter 11

My ear-splitting scream wakes Mikayla and before we have time to react three men in army fatigues have already entered the house. They pull their rifles and the one that seems to be in charge, at the lead, is the first to speak.

"Don't fucking move. You thought we wouldn't find you?"

They laugh and the man behind him kicks some glass on the floor to the side.

"Of course they didn't. They're little girls, I'm surprised they are still alive."

I recognize his voice immediately. It's one of the men that took my dog. I try to slowly move my hand towards my knife but before I can the one that I remembered stalked forward and yanked my wrist up.

"He said don't fucking move." He snarls in my face.

I can smell the liquor and cigarettes on his breath and cringe, the pressure of his grip on my wrist is shooting pain through my arm. He lets his rifle fall, connected to a strap over his shoulder, and removes my hunting knife before tossing it to the leader who catches it easily before shoving it in a pack on his back. I'm overcome with fear and suddenly I'm thrown to the side, the man uses my wrist to toss me like a ragdoll. A coffee table over by the couch is what stops me, the impact feels like it shatters my ribs and I'm gasping for air on my hands and knees. Mikayla is sobbing like she did when I found her, her hands raised over her head, but that doesn't stop the man from coming at her. He shoves her in my direction, and she falls against me causing me to fall completely to the floor. I manage to pull myself to standing. Every breath that I take is stabbing and I must put one arm on the coffee table just to stay upright.

Sucking shallow breaths through my teeth I look at the man in charge. My voice cracks from the pain I'm in but I push through.

"What do you want from us?"

He looks at me and laughs again.

"You thought you could just kill one of us and there wouldn't be consequences? You are fucking stupid." He says incredulously.

Mikayla suddenly jumps up to defend our actions.

"It was an accident. She didn't mean to hit that guy on the road. We would have helped him!" The desperation in her voice is apparent as she tries to come across as brave.

"I don't give a fuck. You still killed one of my men. And you're going to pay for it." He smiles at us devilishly before gesturing at his two men to grab us. "Grab the brats and don't forget to sweep the house for supplies. Tie their wrists and toss them in the back of the truck."

The men nod at him before he leaves the house and they take a couple of zip ties from their pocket and advance toward us.

"This will be fun." The other man says devoid of emotion making it sound even creepier. They begin to cross the room towards us.

I'm not going down without a fight, I've made it this far.

As soon as one of the men grabs my wrists and pulls them behind me, I throw my head forward and bring it back, into his face as hard as I can. I hear a sickening crunch as the man starts screaming and I feel regrettable pleasure at the little piece of revenge I got against the fucker who took my dog.

"Shit, she fucking hit me, dude." He yells at his partner, cradling his now disfigured face in his hands.

Blinding pain causes my vision to become obscured, but I don't waste any time screaming at Mikayla to run. My eyes slowly clear up and Mikayla makes a run for the front door. Just as I turn to follow her, the man I hit grabs me roughly, blood pouring down his face from a presumably broken nose. Wrath is clear in his eyes and I try to get out of his grip but it's no use. The last thing I see is his fist headed for my face.