I use that anger, that heat in me, to focus on the task at hand. I go on slipping down, thanking my lucky stars for having been bandaged, which would cushion my fall.

 As riveting as this exchange may be, I would rather stop hearing it, stop wondering what Vlad expects to get out of my boyfriend in exchange for my life. Don’t waste time listening to any of that, I tell myself. Just, do something. Anything. Escape. 

Really, in my present condition? 

Really. The moment is now. So don’t argue, don’t lose time on debating with yourself.

I grit my teeth, straining every muscle in me in an enormous effort to stir. After what seems like an eternity, I think I can move my thumb, because there it is, tingling. Yes, yes! I can bend it! It takes every bit of will power to straighten it back. Yes, I can do that, too! 

If I had a pistol, perhaps I could attempt to press the trigger—but short of that, bending and straightening this finger or that is of no real use. I need to do something else. Anything.

Right now, my arms feel as heavy as bricks, but according to Dr. Patel I did flail them while under the influence of drugs. Oh, where’s that morphine when I really need it? 

I’ve expected to go through weeks—perhaps even months—of physical rehabilitation, to recover control of my body. But I can no longer afford to wait for such a luxury. 

So I ask myself, can I topple the wheelchair? Am I strong enough to do it? Perhaps, once it’s down, I can crawl out of it across the asphalt, then roll my way under the bottom of one of the parked cars, and under the next one, and the one after that. 

Can I slink my way to safety?

On second thought, this plan seems overly complicated, and dangerous, too. Why? Because toppling the wheelchair would rattle the entire parking lot, which means that the moment I hit dirt, I would be caught. 

So instead, I decide to do what comes naturally. I slump. Then I slump some more. By now, my butt is nearing the edge of the wheelchair. It’s a plan, isn’t it?

Soon I’ll flop to the ground. 

Any moment now. 

Meanwhile, the tone of the conversation between the two men has changed. It’s warmer now, which infuriates me. I use that anger, that heat in me, to focus on the task at hand. I go on slipping down, thanking my lucky stars for having been bandaged, which would cushion my fall. 

And I think, if Vlad notices what I’m trying to do, I’m going to kick him. That wouldn’t help, of course, because he’s so much stronger than me, and because he has that weapon, but at least it’ll sweeten my moment of departure. I’d like to go out with a bang.

Coma Confidential

Paperback ★ Hardcover

Audiobook

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? 

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"This suspenseful story spins into a wild race for survival for Ash, filled with terror, courage, and a journey that will have you cheering her on."