black; no white, no iris, just black. I watched his hand relax and the Good Samaritan who tried to come to my rescue fell limp from his grasp. Blood was pooling in the snow and the man’s eyes were open and lifeless. Maybe if he’d had a gun. The thought drifted into my mind.
A little shock ran through my brain. I had a gun.
My hand sprang to my waistband. I pulled the gun and brought it up as Wolfe licked the man’s blood from his fingers. His eyes ran back to me as I pulled the trigger.
The shot hit him in the eyebrow and his hands flew to his face, releasing me. A howl as loud as an explosion threatened to overcome the sound of the blood rushing back to my head. I landed and my legs buckled. I fell to all fours, gun still clenched in my hand. I pulled up and shot at him twice more, this time aiming at his legs. My brain was sluggish, but when I looked to confirm that I hit him, all I saw was a thin black cylinder a little less than an inch long sticking out of the surface of his pants.
A dart was sticking out of his leg. Not a bullet wound. Damnation.
I raised the gun to shoot him again but his paw of a hand slapped it away. It skidded across the parking lot and under a car.
“Little doll,” he breathed in my ear. I lifted my head up to see those great black eyes staring at me, but they were different, unfocused. “That’s not a fair toy for playtime. What have you done to Wolfe?”
I might have responded if I’d had my wits about me, but his chokehold had deprived me of both oxygen and blood to the brain, and I was so dizzy I felt I might vomit. And if I did, I was aiming for him. Asshole. I was sucking down air greedily, large breaths so cold they hurt my lungs. It didn’t seem to be helping. The spots were still clouding my vision. His eyes still stared at me.
“Back away from her!” I heard a voice from behind, but I was too gone to turn my head. Everything was spinning.
“New playmates are not part of our game,” Wolfe breathed in my ear as he staggered to his feet. At least, I think he did. I saw his boots running through the snow, away from me.
I felt my head tilt back and my hair landed in the slush on the ground. I stared up into two faces – the men from my house. Oldie’s swollen nose overshadowed his other features. They were both talking, but I couldn’t hear a word by then.
The spots in my vision clouded everything out, and the spinning in my head worsened until it felt like I fell down, through the snow and slush and mud, through the concrete and asphalt of the parking lot, down into the ground. My vision darkened and blotted out the sky and faces above me.
Four
I awoke in a small room surrounded by sleek metal walls that reminded me of a stainless steel refrigerator, save for one that was made of glass and mirrored. If I went by my TV experiences, it was a one-way, and someone was watching me from the other side. The walls were paneled into squared segments that were two feet by two feet each, allowing the door to be disguised so I couldn’t see the way out.
I lay on a hospital-style bed in the middle of the room. I had a moment of panic until I realized that my hands and feet were unbound. I sat up and dangled my legs over the edge of the table, then blinked down at them. I wore the same shoes that I had on when I was attacked. My gloves, sweater and jeans all seemed undisturbed. My hand jumped to my throat, checking where Wolfe had grasped me. Bandages covered my neck.
I walked to the mirrored wall, staring at myself. My brown hair highlighted my pale face. My blue eyes turned greenish toward the iris and my skin showed nary a freckle. Strange what twelve years with no sunlight will do to you. My nose was not quite pointed, but long enough to make me self-conscious. I wasn’t sure what to think of my height or weight – it’s hard to compare yourself solely to people on TV.
My fingers found the ends of the bandages