When she woke up, everything was black. The scent of gasoline and smoke filled her nose as her police training kicked in and her brain turned to survival mode. No, Kate thought, I'm the detective; I'm not supposed to be in these kinds of situations. She felt the binds around her wrists and the cold metal of the pipe on her back, and as the room around began to materialize she saw she was in a small room, likely a basement of some sort. The walls were cement and the windows were covered with what looked like wood.
Kate moved her wrists around to gain feeling back in her hands, and was surprised to feel that the binds weren't very secure. Filled with newfound adrenaline she quickly undid the rope and pulled herself onto her feet. Moving to the door, she placed her ear against it to determine if anyone was on the other side; not hearing anything, she tried the doorknob, once again surprised to see that it opened easily. What are these people up to? Do they not know how to kidnap, or is this some kind of trick?
Kate peered around the doorframe and, not seeing anyone, stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. She didn't hear any voices or footsteps, so she cautiously made her way down the hallway, into the dining room where she could look out the window and ascertain where she had been holed up. Not surprisingly, she didn't see any roads, just grass and trees. Of course they took me out into the middle of nowhere; the one thing they actually seemed to follow the "Kidnapper's Rulebook" on. Looking around, impatient now realizing that her kidnappers seem to have just left her to die, she tried to find a phone or some other device with which to call for help. Kate heard a small scuffling noise coming from behind one of the doors, and instinctively reached for her gun, forgetting that it wasn't on her. Detective mode kicking in, she moved towards the door and listened again. She heard a faint groaning on the other side, and opened the door to see if whoever was on the other side needed help.
When she glanced into the room, the sight made her heart stop. There was a man, lying limp on the floor. He had bruises covering his face and blood trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His pale face seemed to light up with hope when she walked into the room, but only marginally. She noticed the tear in his shirt, and, with fear in her eyes, she saw the gash on his side, bleeding profusely. As she applied pressure on the wound and whispered sweet nothings to keep the man calm, Kate had only one thing on her mind: I'm so sorry, Rick…