The thief dove on the net. Whirled. Plopped it over Kenzie’s head and spun her, locking her arms at her sides.
No. No. No.
From behind her, furious hands wound the long line from her chest down to her knees. Cursing and spitting, Kenzie was knocked blindly to the ground. Shoved and rolled into the trees, screeching monstrous words. Trapped in the growing darkness like a fly in a spider’s web.
She screamed with rage—until something snatched and sliced at the nylon mesh over her face—and crammed a bag into her mouth.
A filthy, suffocating plastic bag.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.