If she could talk, she'd scream. Instead the tears fall faster as she feels his knee make contact with her ribs and kidneys.

Her vision's starting to grey out at the edges, creating a viewing arc that's obscured further by blurry eyes.

And she knows that compared to what people she loved went through, this is nothing.

He caresses her face with his gun and she's on the verge of panic, a few more moments and she'll have to defend herself.

"I don't know where to find him," she pants, gasping for air.