I woke up and the world slowly came back to me as I took in my surroundings.

I was alone, from what I could tell, in what looked like a trailer or storage container. A few small beams of light came through vents in the ceiling but it was still dark, and extremely hot.

My hands were cuffed behind my back and linked through the spindles of the back of the wooden chair I was sitting in.

After figuring out what was going on around me, I began to take stock of my injuries.

My shirt was covered in blood from my gunshot wound, my broken rib sent a lance of pain through my body with each breath I took and then I realized that the left side of my face was throbbing. I must have hit my head or maybe he used me as a punching bag, but I don't remember.

Shit.

I don't remember.

Did I talk? Did I give myself up? Or worse, did I give Nikki up? Did he inject me with anything to make me talk?

Panic set in and I started pulling on my bonds in an effort to break free. All I could think of was Nikki and the last image I had of her, falling to the floor after being shot. I tried so hard not to cry but a few tears escaped. I was in pain, tired, defeated…and I began to wonder if I'd ever see her again.

A good ten minutes passed as my thoughts raced through my head.

I inspected the chair to see where exactly I was attached. Then I had the bright idea of finding a way to break the chair so that I could get the hell out of here, wherever here was.

I might not be bleeding right now but I figure I will be once I attempt to do this. I've lost a lot of blood already and can't afford to lose much more, so this has to work or I'm as good as dead.

"Oh, Nikki. Where are you when I need you?" I mumbled to myself.

Mustering up all the strength I have, I took a deep breath and stand up with the chair. I bite my bottom lip against the pain and proceed to smash the chair against the side of the wall. Each hit sends a vibration that jars my wounds and makes me grunt each time. But I'm determined so I keep hitting it.

I feel fresh blood begin to ooze down my side, reminding me that I'm running out of time. But one more hit and the chair splinters apart, freeing me.

Sinking to the floor, I close my eyes and lean my head back as I manage the pain. Then I start to cry.

I'm so tired but I know if I lie down I'm not going to be able to get back up.

I scoot over towards one of the beams of light so that I can take a good look at the damage. My stomach hitches as I realize the wound is not only bleeding it's infected.

Great.

I move back against the side of the container and take a moment to rest and get my head straight before attempting to figure a way out.

Given all the noise I made in breaking the chair, I'm assuming I'm very much alone since no one's come busting in to see what all the commotion was.

That's good and bad. Good because I know I can't fight anyone off in my condition. Bad because I'm alone and God only knows where.

I somehow manage to get to my feet and stumble towards the front of the container where there's a big metal door. I put my hand on the handle and brace myself as I yank on the door to open it. Much to my surprise, it opens!

A blast of hot, humid air blows in along with a warm ray of sunlight. I shade my eyes and look out. I'm in the middle of Goddamn nowhere.

Sitting down on the edge of the container, I look out miles and miles of land. No road, no nothing. Just grass, trees, small bushes and…nothing.

Figuring it best to stay in the shade, I slide back inside and shut the door a bit to shade me from the sun.

It's got to be over 100 degrees in here, even in the shade. So I'll either bake to death or bleed to death. I look at my wound again because I have to do something. It's nasty shades of red and purple. It's torn open wider, just my luck.

I take off my shirt and try to pack the wound with it, pressing as hard as I can and causing me to cry out. For a moment I'm glad I'm alone.

Without even realizing it's going to happen, I pass out.