I actually had a dream, even if it was running in an endless forest, Jeremy right on my heels. Stumbling on the uneven ground, I felt arms wrap around me from behind, crushing the air out of me.
I bolted upright screaming. Wait. I’m sitting up?
Still in my one-bedroom prison with daylight coming through the window, I stared at my rope-free arms and legs. Instinctively, I hugged my knees, wincing when my wrists bumped into each other. The ropes had left raw sores behind.
Got to move. I shoved my legs over the side of the bed, but discovered even touching my feet against the ground sent waves of nausea through me. Teeth gritted, I forced myself to stand. I need to get out of here. I staggered across the floor, terrified by how weak I was. Was it just not eating or all the drugs? Thinking of those needles, I grabbed the door handle, praying the masked man wasn’t on the other side waiting. I exhaled in relief, seeing only trees and long grass.
So, it was a cabin. Once early fall set in, many summer cabins in Durango remained empty all winter. I set out as fast as my legs would allow—a wobbly gait at best. Which way? I felt disoriented and lost. Recognizing some of the mountains, I tried to gauge where I was in relation to the highway. Saying a quick prayer, I made up my mind and headed to what I hoped was north. The longer I walked, the stronger my legs became, but the more painfully my head throbbed. After what felt like an hour, I sat down on the ground, smashing my head between my hands. The pain was excruciating; I was afraid my skull might actually split open.
Have to keep moving. I pressed on. Five minutes later, I saw another cabin. I pounded on the door, but it too was vacant. So were the next four I found. Still, it comforted me cabins were appearing more frequently now. I must be getting close to the main highway. Wanting to find help, I began running but, within seconds, my body protested, lungs on fire. Gulping in deep breaths, I continued walking briskly.
Wishing I were better at interpreting the sun’s position in the sky for time, I decided if it moved a few inches, it surely meant I’d been walking for hours. Exhausted and thirsty, I collapsed to the ground. I need just a few minutes. I curled into a ball, draping my arms across my eyes, trying to shield out the light and get some relief from the migraine. It felt like seconds later that I was back in those woods again—sprinting for my life.
I heard Jeremy yelling, “We found her! We found Samantha!”
Why’s he saying that? There was a chorus of voices shouting now. My head panged in response. Why are they so loud? Dogs were barking. Someone touched my shoulder. I jerked away, trying to sit up. My body felt glued to the ground though. I glanced up to see brown eyes gazing down at me.
Where’s the mask? And then my mind caught up to all the details. I’m lying on the ground. He’s wearing an EMT jacket. I peered around at the people gathering closer. One of the dogs was trying to reach me, its tongue hanging out, as its owner pulled back on the leash.
“The tip was good; we found her! Call her parents,” a voice yelled out from somewhere in the group. The man with brown eyes was leaning in. “Samantha, we’re here to help you. Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere? Can you understand me?”
Too many questions. I tried to slur out words. Oh my gosh, I can’t talk! What was in those stupid shots? Am I permanently brain damaged? I shook my head and then nodded, hoping he understood.
“We’re contacting your parents; they’ll be here soon. Can I put this blanket around you?”
I realized then that I was shaking uncontrollably and nodded back at him. The man helped me sit up and cloaked me in a thick blanket. I reveled in its warmth.
He held up a water bottle. “Do you think you can drink?”
I nodded, and he gently lifted the bottle to my lips. I drank fast, too fast, and after a moment, I stopped. Turning to the side, I threw it all up. I tried to apologize, but the world was spinning. The man’s face kept going in circles before me; I closed my eyes.
“We need to get you into the ambulance.” I forced my lids open to see the man with brown eyes had said it. “Can I help you stand up?”
I nodded, and he pulled me up. It seemed effortless.
He pointed toward the gurney approaching. “We need to get you up on that. Do you think you can stand?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure my legs would hold. Every part of me was shaking. The two EMTs helped me up; the narrow bed felt stiff and cold to my bare legs. Hands were pushing me back. Dizzy, I didn’t resist. Then straps made their way across my stomach and sternum.
“No!” I croaked as my hands shot out, ripping the binding out of the EMT’s hand.
The man with brown eyes said, “It’s okay, just relax.”
I struggled to sit up, but I ended up rolling off the side instead. Hands grabbed after me. Not another bed, no more ropes! There was a high-pitched screech, as the ground seemed to jump up at me. When my body smacked down, I registered it was my own manic screams I heard. The man with brown eyes was helping me up again.
“It’s ok,” he soothed. “You’re going to be all right. No one’s going to hurt you now.” I wanted to believe him. “We won’t tie you down, okay?”
I nodded and let the two EMTs help me up on to the gurney again.
“We need to start an IV,” the brown-eyed man said, “You’re pretty dehydrated. Can you hold still?” The other EMT touched my arm as the brown-eyed man said, “Just a little prick—”
Prick? I lost it, clawing the other EMT away. The brown-eyed man tried to calm me, but I panicked at the strong hands pulling me down on to the gurney. Both of my arms were pinned now. I felt the pinch in my arm and sobbed. He’s got me again!
Brown eyes swam above me. “It’s ok, Samantha. You’re safe now.”
Hidden Monster Page 3