I'm sure you've watched enough television to be familiar with that old cliché – if your kidnappers let you see their faces, they're never going to ...et you live?"I leaned down over her face."Get a good long look at me, cunt. Memorize my fucking face – every pore, every hair. It may be today, it may be tomorrow, it may be one year from now or twenty, but you're going to die by my hand. You're never getting out of this alive and nothing you can do, nothing you can say, will change that."I'd. Marla lay down on the blanket, and gripping it with her hands and feet, rolled to cover herself. Despite the furnace, it she had been cold the night before. She would have to watch herself, Stockholm syndrome was kicking in, she was grateful he'd given her a blanket.Sleep was a long time coming. The shuffling of the dead on the street outside unnerved her, and her imagination ran wild every time she heard a car or burst of gunfire.Bright sunlight woke her. Her headache had dulled, a good sign,. More

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