The men had left the door to her bedroom open, and Karen could barely hear the television program from downstairs. It sounded like an old "Seinfeld" episode, but she couldn't be sure. There was laughing—she could hear that clearly enough—but she found it hard to accept that anyone, anywhere could be experiencing pleasure while she was going through this hell.
    Her mind raced, unable to concentrate on anything for longer than a few seconds. She kept returning to thoughts of escape, even though she knew that that was impossible. Mike had loved the four-poster bed; it was one of the first things they had purchased for the farmhouse when they moved to Fallsbury. Very well built, it was now serving her two captors well.
    Karen lay spread-eagled on her back, each wrist and ankle bound with rope, the other end of which was wrapped securely around one of the bed's posts. In her initial rage and fear, she had tried to pull herself loose, writhing violently as she strained against the bonds. She wound up gouging her wrists and ankles and staining the bedspread with her blood.
    She'd be willing to endure the pain again if she thought that such an attempt would free her, but she knew it was futile. Even if she could somehow cause the headboard or footboard to break from the frame—highly unlikely—she'd still be tied to them. And her thrashing about would surely bring one of them running, as it had the first time
    I have to keep trying. I have to survive for the kids.
    The kids.
    Where were they? Had the bastards harmed them? Would the sons-of-bitches allow her to talk with them for a few minutes so that she could reassure them that everything would be all right?
    Will it?
    Since the two thugs had invaded her home, the black man had brought the children to see her just once, but that seemed like days ago. The kids had stood in the doorway, their eyes wide with terror. Danielle clutched her younger brother's hand, as if she were going to lead him across a busy intersection; they were both sobbing quietly.
    To convince them that they need not worry, Karen tried to smile, but the gag, which forced her lips apart in a ghastly grimace, prevented that, and when she saw the kids, tears immediately came to her eyes.
    The only word spoken was Danni's faint, "Mommy?"
     "That's enough," the black man had growled, yanking them both out of sight.
    It had been horrible.
    Who are they? What do they want here? And, over and over, Why us?
    There were no answers. Just the sound of the TV, an occasional chuckle from either of the men, and the smell of the popcorn they had made in the microwave.

Order Held Captive.