Three Swedish Mountain Men

by Lily Gold

“Oh, move out of the way,” the second guy mutters, and Thor gets shoved aside. “If she’s dying, she may as well look at something pretty before she goes, instead of your ugly face.”

I probably should have argued harder, I reflect, as I watch the snow-covered forest roll by outside the window. I think I read somewhere that your chances of escaping a kidnapping drop by ninety-five percent once they get you in the car.

“If no one puts a knob in me in the next five seconds I swear to God, I’ll just snap them all off.”