New York: Allie's War, Early Years

I managed to let out a cry at that point, but it was strangled off by the pressure of his arm. I looked for other people, witnesses maybe, but only one guy was looking at me, and he didn't seem to be about to intervene. In fact, he looked at me like I must be the one who'd caused whatever problem this was.

Even after ponytail guy yanked the syringe out of my neck, I struggled as he dragged me towards the car door. I barely had time to notice it was being held open the guy who'd been carrying the cattle prod earlier that day, only now he was wearing street clothes and no goggles. Then the two of them were forcing me through the opening. I fought harder, shrieking. I saw a couple of people step around the car, giving it a wide berth, a faint alarm in their eyes, but no one tried to help. I could only hope at least one of them called the cops on their headsets.

I only really got out one good yell before a hand clamped over my mouth.

I was having trouble moving now, too. I managed to plant my feet on the door and the side of the car, using my weight as leverage to keep them from forcing me through the opening, but my knees kept buckling as I lost control over my legs.

I kept trying to scream through ponytail guy's fingers, but it all happened too fast.

Cattle prod guy wrenched my ankle to get my foot out of the door's armrest where I'd be fighting to lodge it. Then he and ponytail guy forced me into the car. Ponytail got in with me, and the other guy slammed the door behind us. Turning at once, I scanned the mechanism with my eyes, looking for the latch, but it was one of the newer ones with a DNA lock.

The whole thing probably only took a few seconds.

Ponytail guy still had ahold of me around the throat, but he'd let go of my mouth to hold my wrists instead. The fingers gripping me were covered in rings. As the drug really started to kick in, I could only stare down at them, trying to make meaning of them.

One silver ring had the same spiral pattern as his necklace.

I realized only a second later that I'd stopped yelling. Looking around at the tinted windows, I realized they were probably soundproof. Which was why they'd let go of my mouth.

The drug made it hard to talk, much less think.

"Serial killer?" I slurred. "...I going to die?"