Page 120 of Marks of Rebellion
Slowly, I look down, and a new panic attack starts. From my shoulders to my ankles, white cloth wraps me like a mummy.
He put me in a full-body straitjacket.
22
Hunter
There's somuch noise and pounding in my head.
I cover my ears but don't move. Something warm and gooey is oozing down my face.
Go back to sleep. This is a bad dream.
Dream.My eyes fly open, and I throw my head back too fast off the steering wheel. Blood rushes through my brain, and I lean to the passenger seat and throw up.
Where is she?
"Flower," I weakly call out, but I already know she's gone.
They took her.
He has her.
I need to get my ass up and find her.
I wipe my mouth on my arm and try to open the door to the truck, but it's stuck. I have to bring my feet up and kick it several times to open it.
When I stand, I'm dizzy and start vomiting again. I hold the side of the door, and when I finish, I take a few steps.
Where is my gun?
I stagger to open the back door. I grab the backpack from the floor and sling it over my shoulder.
It feels so heavy.
Toughen up. He has her.
I blink a few times, trying to figure out where I am and how to get to my Flower, but something is wrong. My vision is off, and when I try to take a few steps, I fall on the ground. Everything turns black.
When I wake up, I'm in a small bedroom, in a twin-size bed. Pain still fills my head, but I force my eyes to stay open.
Where am I?
What is that smell?Garlic, tomatoes, and onions flare in my nostrils.Pasta?
My stomach growls.
I sit up on the bed and focus on a spot on the wall until my head stops spinning then rise. Cautiously, I step into the hall. There is a bathroom, so I use it and continue toward the smell.
A woman with red hair is cooking, her back toward me.
I clear my throat, and she jumps. When she spins, she looks familiar, but I can't place her. Her bright-green eyes are kind, and my guess is she's in her late twenties.
"Hey, how you feeling?"
"Ummm...fine, I guess. I'm sorry, but where am I? And I know you, but how?"
She pulls out a chair. "Why don't you sit? You're swaying a bit."
