Chapter 43: Abhorrence of Danger

I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect - in terror. -Edgar Allan Poe

Light floods my mini prison. Raising a heavy hand, I shield my eyes. Stephen's face comes into view. He taps the gun tucked inside his pants then raises a single finger to his lips.

"Shh," he says. "Don't make me hurt anyone else."

My eyes dart around, taking in my surroundings. Two rows of gas pumps come into view. The small building has a name over the awning. I catch a quick glimpse of the name before the trunk is slammed shut, returning me to my dark tomb.

Scooting my body, I roll onto my side and retrieve the iPad.

"Don't talk," I say softly. "Just listen. We're at a gas station with two pumps. The name painted on the side of the building says Gasolinera Jalisco. But I couldn't see anything else. Right now, I think he's filling up the tank."

Silence fills the darkness around me. It's both frightening and deafening at the same time.