Terror's Grip

Book 3, 2nd Edition Shadows and fog filled Sheriff Lexie's brain. No familiarity. No point of reference. Where am I? Spots ached deep inside her flesh-deep bruises that disturbed her nerves. Dried blood dotted her shirt and jeans. Her right arm suspended above her held by a chain attached to a two-inch metal clamp around her wrist. The chain trailed through the broken cellar window. Lexie braced her hand against the wall to bring herself to standing. The movement sent pains pulsating through her body. Up and down her stiff legs marched like a wooden soldier. Her left hand punched forward as if a boxing bag or her captor's new face dangled in front of her. Lexie's scream filled the cold darkness, I WON"T DIE WEAK!