Chapter 272

The road was bumpy and the car kept rocking from side to side. Joyce

felt as if she was being taken into the mountains.

The sound of tires bursting over gravel, mixed with the whistling wind,

echoed in the ears. The container was pitch black, and she couldn't see

a thing. She didn't know exactly where she was being taken.

Her hands were tied behind her back, and her feet were tied. Luckily

they didn't search her, and she could feel that the pistol she carried on

her belt was still there. Unfortunately, she couldn't move.

She moved around the container with difficulty, groping around with her

hands tied behind her back, looking for anything she could use.

Little by little, inch by inch, she moved along and did not miss any

corner of the carriage.

"Hiss." Suddenly she was stung and instinctively retracted her hand. It

felt as if she had cut her finger somehow, and it felt sticky, like it was

bleeding.

Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly searched for the thing that had just cut

her finger, and she carefully felt around for it.

Finally found it! The way she felt it, it should be a piece of glass.

She hurriedly hid the glass piece in her hand and moved her body to

the corner.

The road was getting bumpier and bumpier; apparently they had got

into the mountains where there were no roads. Several shakes threw

her up and down in the carriage, and she struggled several times to get

up, finally sitting close to the corner to keep herself from bumping

around.

Meanwhile, her hands, which were tied behind her back, kept grinding

the rope with the piece of glass.

Her hands, however, were tied very tightly, and she could not really

move all that much. She was so focused that she was soaked with

sweat, her hair wet on her forehead and cheeks, and she kept grinding

the rope with the glass piece.

It took her great efforts to cut one from the strand, but unfortunately the

rope did not loosen.

It looked like she would need to continue.

She gasped for breath, her arms were so sore they were numb. She

had no choice but to lean on the wall of the container and close her

eyes to rest for a while before she continued.

She did not know how long it took, but the car seemed to stop.

She was startled and hastily cupped the glass piece in her hand and

hid it, so that it could not be discovered.

After another moment, it appeared that someone was approaching the

car door.

Immediately after, the carriage door was opened abruptly, and the

endless cold wind scrambled in. She was covered in sweat already,

and once the freezing cold wind blowed in, she felt frozen and began

shivering and shuddering.

They did not blindfold her, the cold moonlight came in and she clearly

saw two men walk up and climb into the carriage. They came forward

and dragged her out, she could not speak and did not resist.

Then, the vehicle behind her started again and drove away.

The two, dragging Joyce along quite far away, walked for what seemed

like a long time, so long that her legs felt weak and sore, and she could

hardly walk, before finally arriving at an abandoned house.

It was just dawn, and she could barely see the dense trees around her,

as well as bamboo everywhere. They seemed to be in the mountains,

in front of a row of dilapidated bungalows and their now bare, mottled,

discolored walls.

The house had been unoccupied for a long time, weeds were

overgrown and vines were roaming around and crawling all over the

roof like ghosts.

By the faint light, Joyce saw the faces of the two men who held her.

They were probably over thirties, with beards, stout and fierce faces.

She felt terrible enough just when she saw their face.