It takes some time for Melanie to get her bearings. The world is in motion, and she is restrained. For a moment she feels comforted by this, as if everything following the attack on the base was a weird dream, and things are back to normal. But that little fantasy is gone in an instant; she's not bound to her chair - or to anything but her own self. Her wrists are pressed together by a tight coil of rope, and her ankles have been given similar treatment. It's dark, and she's in some sort of compartment - large enough that she can move around a little, but too small for her to stretch out.

There are voices. They're muffled, but she doesn't think she recognizes either of them. Melanie frowns. Who are they? Where are they taking her?

She didn't ask to be bound, and for all that she knows it's safer this way, she finds herself resenting it. Whoever they are, they've taken her from where she wants to be. Maybe she shouldn't care about their safety.

She can still move her fingers, and whoever tied her wasn't smart enough to put her hands behind her back. It's not hard for her to reach the rope around her ankles and pick at the knot until it loosens. Once her legs are free, she lifts her wrists to her mouth and starts to work on those ropes with her teeth, her feet braced against the walls of her prison.

The knot is close to giving way when there's a sharp jolt and the sound of shattering glass and crumpling metal. Melanie fetches up against one wall, head spinning for several moments after everything comes to a halt. Then she scoots away from the wall with a few soft grunts of effort and tries kicking at the roof. There's a faint line of sky visible, and she kicks again - loud enough for those outside to hear the telltale thuds from the trunk of the car.