It didn’t register at first. They appeared, flanking me, just a little closer than would be considered comfortable. I noticed when the one on my right pulled a revolver out of his pocket and jabbed it into my stomach. I twisted and stared into my assailant’s face.
“What the … Dwayne?”
That earned me a pistol butt to the face. The pain and shock at seeing Dwayne kept me from resisting as the two grabbed my arms and hauled me towards the street. They dropped me unceremoniously into the trunk of a car, not Dwayne’s – and my head slammed into something hard.

I snapped back into consciousness to find myself still in darkness, the hard thing still behind my head. I felt for it, my fingers found a jack. Great. Now I had no idea how long I’d been out, or where we were. I felt around some more – boxes, some sort of plastic container, a blanket. Touching the blanket made me aware of how freezing cold I was, so I pulled it over me, ignoring the damp stains I felt on it. That’s when the trunk opened.