After putting up a defiant struggle in the back seat, Martin pulls over once again, pops the trunk, shoves the wad of handkerchiefs back into my mouth, and wraps more bandage over my head to keep me from pushing it back out. This time around, it was much tighter... for my own good. I was tired from struggling, my cries were merely muffles behind the gag, and my body was exhausted and beat from being tossed around from the bumpy ride.