The night air was cold in the mountains, the wind howling through the trees as the flickering torches illuminated the rebel camp. Amber Hesh kept her posture straight despite the aching in her arms and legs. She had no illusions about her situation—she was a hostage, and the rebels were using her as leverage. But that didn't mean she was powerless.
Her gaze flickered to the other captives. Some were whispering amongst themselves, trying to make sense of their situation. Others sat in defeated silence. Fear was the enemy here. If they let panic take hold, it would only make them weaker.
Amber exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the cold air. Matthew is coming. I know he is. But time was against them. The longer they remained in captivity, the more unpredictable the rebels would become.
Her thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps.
