Triggered Memories

Stella rubbed her wrists as her eyes glazed over. The officer behind her ensured she would not be taken again. The memories were as fresh as the darkened stone beneath that last bitter pill. Her tongue still tasted the coating. Spitting the pill on the ground allowed her to wriggle free of the rope, but – in this moment – Stella craved the numbing after-effects. Instead, she must retrace her steps, envisioning herself as hostage once more.

“He keeps them under the zoo,” Stella said, “Beneath the hyenas so their screams seem natural.” The least she could do was help the others.