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each other's gaze for several moments, and I scowled. He looked back over at his associate.<br />
"Watch her in particular."<br />
When we'd been restrained to his satisfaction, he barked out a few more orders to the others and<br />
then left the room, shutting the door loudly behind him. His steps echoed through the house as<br />
he walked upstairs. Moments later, silence fell.<br />
We sat there, staring at each other. After several minutes, Mia whimpered and started to speak.<br />
"What are you going to—"<br />
"Shut up," growled one of the men. He took a warning step toward her. Blanching, she cringed<br />
but still looked as though she might say something else. I caught her eye and shook my head.<br />
She stayed silent, eyes wide and a slight tremble to her lip.<br />
There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own<br />
imagination can be crueler than any captor. Since our guards wouldn't talk to us or tell us what<br />
was in store, I imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios. The guns were the obvious threat, and I<br />
found myself pondering what a bullet would feel like. Painful, presumably. And where would<br />
they shoot? Through the heart or the head? Quick death. But somewhere else? Like the<br />
stomach? That would be slow and painful. I shuddered at the thought of my life bleeding out of<br />
me. Thinking of all that blood put me in mind of the Badica house and maybe having our<br />
throats slit. These men could have knives as well as guns.<br />
Of course, I had to wonder why we were still alive at all. Clearly they wanted something from<br />
us, but what? They weren't asking for information. And they were human. What would humans<br />
want with us? Usually the most we feared from humans was either running into crazy slayer<br />
types or those who wanted to experiment on us. These seemed like neither.<br />
So what did they want? Why were we here? Over and over, I imagined more awful, gruesome<br />
fates. The looks on my friends' faces showed I wasn't the only one who could envision creative<br />
torments. The smell of sweat and fear filled the room.<br />
I lost track of time and was suddenly jolted out of my imaginings when footsteps sounded on<br />
the stairs. The lead captor stepped into the hall. The rest of the men straightened up, tension<br />
crackling around them. Oh God. This was it, I realized. This was what we'd been waiting for.
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