The thought made my stomach twist again.
I climbed awkwardly onto the bed, using my tied hands and knees to hoist myself up.My shoulder ached, and I bit down on a groan, refusing to let the pain steal my focus.
Sitting on the bed was better than lying on the floor.
That alone felt like a victory.
I sat with my back against the wall, legs bent awkwardly because of the rope around my ankles.The sandwich rested on my lap, still wrapped in plastic, condensation fogging the inside slightly.
I stared at it.
Ham and cheese.
Gas station quality.
It would probably taste like salt and disappointment.
I peeled the wrapper open, the plastic again crinkling loudly in the quiet.My hands shook slightly as I did it, not from fear exactly, but from adrenaline fatigue.My body was running on fumes and stubbornness.
I took a bite.
It tasted exactly like I expected.Bland, salty ham.Processed cheese.Bread that was too soft and slightly damp.Warm.
But it was food.
And my stomach clenched with hunger, so I kept eating.
I chewed slowly, forcing myself not to choke.My mouth was still dry despite the water, and every swallow scraped my throat.
As I ate, I made myself think about my situation.
They thought I was Star.
That meant they were the guys who had attacked her in the parking lot of the Social Club.
I swallowed another bite of the sandwich and forced myself to keep thinking.
If these were the same guys who attacked Star, and now they thought they’d kidnapped her…
That meant they wanted to really hurt her or worse.
Except they had me.
I finished the sandwich and licked the salt off my fingers.My stomach settled slightly, the nausea easing enough that I could breathe without feeling like I might throw up.
I opened the chips next and ate a few, mostly for the crunch.
I needed to stay awake.
I couldn’t afford to sleep again.Not with a concussion.Not when they could come in at any moment.
I forced my eyes to stay open even when they burned.
I took stock of the camper again, this time with purpose.
What could I use?
The cabinets were open, but most of what had been inside was scattered across the floor.Broken plastic containers.A roll of duct tape that was half-used with the end stuck to itself.A rusted pair of scissors with one blade bent.