Step. Step. Step.
Their footfalls echoed in the long, reverent corridor like a countdown to disaster.
Darren couldn't stop thinking about it. Throughout the drive to this place, his mind had punished him.
He and Rachel had sat in the back, their wrists bound with cold, biting handcuffs. Black fabric blindfolds clung to their faces because they didn't want them to register the direction to this hideout.
Because of that, the drive felt endless, a disorienting maze of turns and stops. It was then that the guilt struck Darren as he realized how terrified Rachel would be at that moment as she had no idea what was happening.
He regretted not telling her anything about it, and allowing her to walk blindly into this.
Step. Step. Step.
They walked further. Darren flexed his fingers, testing the cuffs, but they held firm, not that he had any hope that it would be loose.
Rachel turned to him once again. "Darren," she whispered, lips trembling. "Where are they taking us?"
