THIRTEEN

Sam’s eyes flew open in a rage of fire. He looked all about the room, having no idea where he was. He felt as if there were a film over his eyes, a filter. Something was very, very different.

He could tell that he was in a huge stone chamber. Although it was dimly, he could still see everything clearly. As if he had night vision.

But it was more than that. He didn’t feel himself. He felt a new kind of power coursing through his veins, through every pore of his body. His sense of smell was heightened, as was his sense of hearing. He felt enraged. Caged. Ad he felt like he needed to destroy something.

With his new, keen sense of touch, he sensed without looking down that his arms and legs were shackled. He felt the cold of the metal cutting into his skin. And he also knew, instinctively, that he had the strength to shatter them.

With the slightest jerk of his wrists, he tore the shackles from the wall. Cinderblock blocks came flying out with them. His strength was incredible.

He lo