Michaela’s POV.
My head feels heavy, and my throat feels like I have swallowed sand. I open my eyes and everything is fuzzy. I blink a few times and let my eyes adjust to where I am. I look around and hear whimpers from the side of me. I turn my head and it is pounding.
I see rusted metal bars and I’m laying on a cot with a thin blanket over me. I move to sit up, and my head sways as I look and see I’m not the only one here. I rub my eyes and see the chains on my wrists.
I look to my left and see men and women all in cages like me. Great. Simply fantastic.
“Where are we?” I ask and I gulp down saliva to ease the sticky yet dry feeling in my throat. It is an odd sensation.
“Where does it look like we are? Because it is not on vacation in the Maldives, that’s for damn sure.” The woman
