Page 94 of The Dark Stranger
She blinks, trying to focus. "I—I was at a gas station. Getting coffee. For the road. And then—" She winces. "I felt something. In my neck. And then I woke up in a warehouse. That's it. I don't—Becca, what are you doing here? Why areyouhere?"
I swallow hard. "A bitch’s vendetta. But we're going to get out of here. Can you stand?"
"I—I think so."
I help her up, steadying her as she sways on her feet.
Then I turn to the others.
"Okay," I say, louder now. "Everyone, listen to me. I need you to calm down. I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But we're going to figure this out. I need to know your names. First and last. Can you do thatfor me?"
A few of them nod. One girl—maybe sixteen, with dark hair and tear-streaked cheeks—whispers, "Sophia. Sophia Martinez."
"Good. Thank you, Sophia. Who else?"
One by one, they tell me their names.
I try to remember them all. Try to keep my voice steady. Try to be the thing they need right now.
And then—
Gunshots.
Loud. Close.
Right outside the door.
Everyone freezes.
The room goes silent.
Another shot.
Then another.
Closer.
Shouting. The sound of boots pounding against concrete.
I look at Christina.
She looks at me.
And for the first time since I woke up in this nightmare—
I let myself hope.
9
The shift in the room was instant—but wrong.
Not panic. Not at first.
It started as confusion… a ripple that moved too fast to track. A sharp noise cut through the low hum of voices—too controlled to be random, too precise to ignore. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-sentence. The air tightened.
Then it hit.
A deafening blast tore through the space, shaking the floor beneath them. Lights flickered violently, plunging the room into broken flashes of red and shadow. Screams followed immediately after—raw, terrified, uncontrollable. Chairs overturned. Glass shattered. The illusion of control vanished in seconds.
