Page 6 of The Collector
Erica lifted her hand to inspect it. But there was nothing to be visibly seen on her hand other than a slimy, transparent substance that clung stubbornly to her skin.
What the hell?
She hesitated momentarily and brought her fingers to her nose, searching for a scent or something to identify the substance. The only scent on her skin was a faint remnant of the lotion she had applied earlier.
"Hopefully it was just moisture left from the rain mixed with road residue," she muttered, wiping her hand against her yoga pants. She shrugged off the discomfort of the substance as she slid into the driver's seat and shut the door. The car purred to life, the soft intro of Knife Party's "Death & Desire" filling the space.
Erica cranked up the volume and let the music wash over her. Tension drained from her shoulders as the beat progressed, and by the time the bass dropped, she was backing out of the parking spot, head bobbing in time with the dubstep. The unsettling incident with the gel-like substance faded into the background,overshadowed by her renewed confidence and excitement for the day ahead. Her cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much.
As she entered the freeway, the entrance sign appeared blurry and hazy around the edges. She shook her head to clear the fuzziness creeping into her vision, keeping her focus on the white lines of the road and steadying herself as she accelerated.
An intense wave of nausea hit her. The crashing wave made her stomach clench in pain. White-knuckled, she gripped the steering wheel, willing herself to keep control as the pain washed over her.
Sharp, stabbing pains erupted in her gut—vice-like and relentless—causing her stomach to spasm. Erica pushed her seat back, attempting to ease the pressure. Thick saliva pooled in her mouth, triggering her gag reflex, while the burn of acid rose in her throat, scorching her nostrils. She swallowed hard, choking back the bile before it could spew onto the windshield.
"Only ten minutes to the townhouse," she whispered. "I can make it."
She refocused her eyes on the road and pressed the accelerator harder. The car surged forward, finally reaching speed.
"You can do this," she muttered to herself. "Come on, Erica, get it together."
The freeway was all but empty, save for a lone car's taillights glowing faintly about half a mile ahead and another vehicle trailing her roughly five hundred feet behind.
Keep it between the lines, girl. You've got this.
The sudden onset of sickness still puzzled her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Her arms sagged, as if something unseen was tugging her hands from the wheel. She loosened her grip, hoping to ease the tension, but her vision smeared—dark streaks bleeding into the edges.
She blinked rapidly. Nothing. The black kept crawling inward.
Panic bloomed. Her body betrayed her, eyelids fluttering against her will.
Then—the wheel jerked. Metal screamed. And darkness swallowed Erica whole. The world vanished as the car slammed into the guardrail.
Pain awoke as it rolled through her body in waves when she finally managed to reopen her eyes. The shock of the impact sent her stomach into spasms, and vomit spewed violently onto the windshield and airbag in front of her. Struggling to breathe, she wiped her mouth and pushed loose hair strands from her face.
She tried to sit upright but found herself pinned between the airbag and the seat. Tears streamed down her face as she attempted to scream for help, but her effort was cut short by her rasping breaths.
"Breathe in—one, two, three—and out," she whispered, trying to calm herself. Reaching back with her left hand, she fumbled to release her seatbelt, which was crushing her ribcage with every movement. Her right arm struck the gear shift, and she screamed in agony. Glancing down, she saw the bone protruding in jagged pieces. It was useless to her now—no help in freeing herself. Through the spider-webbed windshield, she caught sight of the car's smashed front end. Smoke drifted from under the hood in slow, thick plumes.
Oh no, my baby, she's ruined. What if this damn thing catches on fire? I need to get out!
Her head fell back onto the airbag as she tried to come up with a plan. Intermittent thoughts disrupted her focus, and darkness loomed on the edge of her mind.
"No, please, somebody help me," she said, her voice a low murmur barely audible as her heavy eyelids fluttered closed.
The scraping sound of her car door hinges jolted her awake. Slowly, she angled her head high enough to see out the door. A man's face came into view, his dark eyes studying her as heforced the door open wide enough with a tire iron to fit his head inside the frame.
A soft sigh slipped from her bloodied lips at the thought of being rescued.
Finally, someone is here to get me out.
The man spoke, but she fought to stay coherent enough to understand. His full lips moved, but his words were incomprehensible at first. "Are you alright? Can you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?" His voice echoed in her ears, each syllable reverberating with deep bass until the words finally became clear.
She slipped back into unconsciousness, and her head bounced slightly against the airbag. She awoke with a start as the man began pulling her from the car. Her arms and legs flailed against him as her body landed on his shoulder. Each breath felt like a desperate gasp of air, her lungs fighting to receive it. Whimpering, she adjusted her weight to relieve the pain shooting across her body.
