Lying there on the stretcher under Vlad’s eye, I tell myself that my life is not in danger. I repeat, it’s not, at least not immediately.
Unfortunately, that gives me no relief, because death can be welcome when the alternative is worse. Losing limbs is not my idea of pleasure, even if it’s only my fingers, even if they’re of little use to me lately, as I can barely control them.
And it’s not just my mind saying that. It’s my body, too. It wants to remain intact. Every muscle in me screams fear.
The ambulance rattles into motion. Where is Vlad taking me? The asphalt shrieks under the tires, as if to impart a warning. We speed away, destination unknown.
Thoughts are racing madly in my head. I’m grateful to my boyfriend, because he put himself in harm’s way, trying to fight off my abductor. But then, he seemed reluctant to do what was asked of him—surrender that hacking program—so I may be released. Clearly, he wasn’t telling the truth about losing that thing. I don’t believe him on that count, and more critically, neither does Vlad.
Why, why won’t Michael give it up?
One moment, I hate him for not doing everything in his power to protect me. That program is just an old thing he wrote back in high school, using a computer language that is obsolete. It is of no value to him, quite the contrary. He could have been arrested for writing it.
The next moment, I realize that with that program at hand, Vlad would have the power to wreak havoc on the electrical grid of the entire country, which will greatly impact the US economy and its political independence. What is happening now in my city, in Irvine, is accomplished using inferior software, concocted by Russian hackers. Even so, the way it plays out is merely a rehearsal.
But even as I understand all this, even as I think of the greater good, still, the question remains: why should I be the one to be sacrificed for it?
Haven’t I gone through enough already?
On the bright side, I am thankful that at the moment, I am covered with a warm blanket. Also, the ambulance is fitted with a working air conditioning system, so as to maintain a comfortable temperature for any patients being treated. And comfort is something I need. I need it desperately, because earlier, sitting there in the parking lot, those gusts of wind have put the shiver in me.
Perhaps the shiver is in my heart.
Deprived of morphine, I start to feel pain. It is no longer something waiting for me somewhere in the background. It is here. And it’s rising.
Ash finds herself in the ER diagnosed with coma. She has no memory of what has happened to her, but what she can do--despite what everyone around her might think--is listen to the conversations of her visitors. Will she survive the power outage in the hospital and then, being kidnapped out of it?
