The road was bumpy and the car kept rocking from side to side. Joyce felt as if she was being taken into the mountains.

The sound of tires bursting over gravel, mixed with the whistling wind, echoed in the ears. The container was pitch black, and she couldn't see a thing. She didn't know exactly where she was being taken.

Her hands were tied behind her back, and her feet were tied. Luckily they didn't search her, and she could feel that the pistol she carried on her belt was still there. Unfortunately, she couldn't move.

She moved around the container with difficulty, groping around with her hands tied behind her back, looking for anything she could use.

Little by little, inch by inch, she moved along and did not miss any corner of the carriage.

"Hiss." Suddenly she was stung and instinctively retracted her hand. It felt as if she had cut her finger somehow, and it felt sticky, like it was bleeding.

Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly searched for the thing that had just cut her finger, and she carefully felt around for it.

glass. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find

hid the glass piece in her hand

road was getting bumpier and bumpier; apparently they had got into the mountains where there were no roads. Several shakes threw her up and down in the

hands, which were tied behind her back,

that she was soaked with sweat, her hair wet on

took her great efforts to cut one from the strand, but

looked like she would need

sore they were numb. She had no choice but to lean on the wall of the container and close her eyes to rest for a while before

did not know how long it took,

was startled and hastily cupped the glass piece in her hand and hid

it appeared that someone was approaching the car

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