He's alive

Avery Young

The cold night continued to wrap around me as I hid in the shadows, my heart beating erratically in my chest. Every sound seemed amplified—the heavy footsteps of the surrounding men, the hum of the helicopter in the air. My lips trembled, and I struggled to stay in control. Fear spread through my body like an electric current, making it hard to breathe. The idea of doing something—anything—flashed briefly through my mind, but I hesitated.

The men who had taken Jake weren’t ordinary people. They exuded violence, as if they knew they were in control. And as a woman alone, what could I do against them? The image of Jake being overpowered and of Nancy being dragged into the helicopter still pulsed in my mind. Adrenaline made my hands shake, and for a moment, I considered calling the police. "Would 911 fix this?" I thought, my fingers moving automatically toward the phone in my pocket.

But I stopped. What if they found out I had made the call? What if those men knew I was here,