Struggling once again to keep the panic at arm’s length, I took a deep breath and told myself to relax and try to somehow hold it all together. All I had to do was wait another few minutes. If I didn’t hear anything, I might be able to get out of here. I was a business executive; I’d faced traumatic situations before. I knew my best bet was to treat this as an extreme emergency, but if I kept the panic at bay and maintained a clear head, I’d undoubtedly prevail.
My first step, of course, was to feel my way out of the closet and down the hall. Although I couldn’t actually see anything, that didn’t make the process impossible. I was at a definite disadvantage but was quite sure my adrenaline would help me—
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she said, her voice close.
I wanted to rejoice when I heard her. It took me two tries to find my own voice. “I thought…I was afraid I’d just …imagined you.”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t.”
“I’m really glad. Where were you?”
“I was making sure they weren’t coming back here.”
“Are they?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean they won’t later on.”
“I was just about to try and get out of here.”
“You can’t go anywhere without a flashlight, you know.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know if you’d come back or—“
“I understand. But I do have to leave again. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
My heart fluttered. I hadn’t imagined the voice after all.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Silence. My heart sank. She’d already gone.
I spent the next couple of minutes trying to figure out who she was and what was going on.
I also wondered if I was dead—or had gone stark-raving mad.
***
At least five more bone-chilling minutes later, I heard her again.
This time, her voice was just a few feet straight ahead, on the other side of the pile of boxes and trash I was hiding behind. “They left the building, but they’re still close. Right now, they’re checking another section of the alley. Come out of there and I’ll guide you.”
“I hope you realize I can’t see a damned thing.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can see everything.”
Her simple statement made me wonder once again just who she was and why I couldn’t see her. It also made me wonder why she was helping me. Logic told me that if she was actually trying to help, she must know me. Or maybe she just didn’t like street punks.
In any event, if she knew me, she would have already told me who she was.
“Who are you?” I couldn’t help asking. The suspense was driving me crazy.
“No time for that. You have to get out of here right now.”
“But like I said—“
“Take two side steps to your left and one small step straight ahead. Then make a right at about a forty-five-degree angle. It should only take you another step or two to get back out into the hall.”
I did as she instructed, moving slowly and carefully, my right hand held straight out, groping for obstacles. My right shoulder bumped against the wall, jarring me. I felt for the doorway and used both hands to examine the inner edge of the door. Then I took two more steps and inched my way through the doorway.
Just as I stepped back out into the hall, she said, “Turn right, take five steps, then stop.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll tell you when you get there.”
Once again I did as she instructed. Then I stopped after the required five steps.
“A body’s lying right there in front of you,” she said.
Had I heard her correctly? Did she say body? As in corpse?
“A body? Or a bum sleeping it off?”
“He’s a bum, all right, but he’s dead. By the smell, I’d say he’s been dead a few days.”
I took a whiff and immediately felt nauseous. “I don’t know if I can—“
“He’s skinny,” she said.
Once again, I wondered if I’d heard her correctly. “What does that have to do with—“
“It makes him narrow. All you have to do is raise your right leg about a foot. Then bring it back down a foot and a half straight ahead. That should give you enough space to clear him. Once you do that, do the same thing with your other leg. You’ll be good to go.”
“I don’t know if I can—“
“Do it.”
The authority in her voice unnerved me. Despite my reservations, I had to do what she said. But I knew I’d lose it completely if I brought my foot down onto soft, dead flesh.
“The clock’s ticking,” she said.
It was now or never. I’d come much too far to stop now. I’d been mugged, knocked unconscious and searched, and I’d almost lost one of my favorite ties. I strongly suspected that if I didn’t do exactly as this strange voice commanded, I’d be dead before the night ended.
Taking a deep breath, I brought my right leg up. Then, visualizing it moving a couple of feet forward, I brought it back down onto the hard, uneven surface of the floor. My heart raced as I repeated the procedure with my other leg. Luckily, I managed to do it without stepping on the corpse stretched out in front of me.
But I didn’t have time to celebrate. The moment my left foot came down, the voice said, “Walk ten steps, turn left, then walk another ten steps. This will bring you back out to the street.”
One again, I obeyed her instructions. I counted ten paces and stopped cold. The moment I turned to my left, an open doorway appeared straight ahead, at the end of the hall. The intermittent flash of headlights piercing the darkness made my heart skip a beat. Freedom awaited me just a dozen or so yards straight ahead.
My first instinct was to run. I knew that would be a mistake. I still couldn’t see the floor at my feet. To make this even more dangerous, this ordeal had drained me, and I could feel the exhaustion inching heavily up my legs to take over the moment I let down my guard. I’d been running on fear and adrenaline for the last hour or so and was terrified that my energy supply was about to run out. I didn’t want to be anywhere near this area when it finally did. So I dug in with whatever I had left and kept up my cautious pace until I cleared the open doorway of the condemned building. I didn’t hesitate even after I’d gone down the crumbling stone steps leading to the sidewalk.
Even though I felt totally free for the first time since I’d been knocked unconscious, I maintained my frantic pace, forcing my cramped legs and frozen feet to keep up the action until I reached my ultimate goal.
A lamp post at the corner splashed the cold, dismal night with an orange haze. The street directly straight ahead looked vaguely familiar, and as I struggled to increase my pace, I realized I’d come back out onto Liberty Avenue. Gino’s Bar & Grill awaited me. I took off in that direction and didn’t hesitate for even a moment.
By the time I reached the end of the block, I could feel the exhaustion taking over. My legs seemed to be wrapped in a heavy cloak of numbness that crept upward, until my midsection—as well as my arms—grew heavier and heavier. I felt like I’d been submerged in a vat of chilled molasses. And since my feet were numb with cold, taking each step had become an agonizing chore. I didn’t know if I’d be able to make it to Gino’s before collapsing.
But just before the panic tried taking over again, a strange and wonderful sight awaited me halfway down the block.
The Challenger was sitting exactly where I’d left it. For some strange reason, the punks hadn’t yet moved it.
But this couldn’t help me at all. They’d taken my keys, my wallet, and my cell phone.
How could I possibly get in the car and drive away?
I decided to drop into Gino’s and tell them what happened. While they called the cops, I could relax in a chair and wait for my circulation to return. Hopefully, my feet weren’t frost-bitten. Just a few minutes thawing out in a warm place might be all they’d need to
recover.
But just as I turned to climb the stone steps leading to the bar, I saw that their neon lights were dark. The place was closed.
Desperation ripped into me. I wanted to collapse to the pavement and lie there until I no longer felt anything.
But just then, I heard the young woman once again. “Get in the car.”
As I turned, I hoped to see her this time. But as before, no one was there. “I can’t,” I told her. “They took my—“
“Get in.”
Do as she says, my mind ordered me. She hadn’t steered me wrong yet, had she? She’d got me away from those punks, hadn’t she?
Most important of all, she’d brought me here…
I staggered over to the Challenger, circled the front and opened the driver door. Then I slid in and felt my lower extremities instantly blending into the front seat. I’d never before realized just how comfortable the front seat of a car could be until that very moment.
I sat back and let my head drop against the padded headrest. Then I closed my eyes and felt the exhaustion deepening. I sighed in total ecstasy as the warmth rushed right up to smother me. I knew I didn’t have much time. I had to drive somewhere safe.
Forcing myself to sit forward and focus, I gazed at the dash.
The keys were nowhere in sight.
I could only stare numbly at the empty ignition and wonder what I could possibly do, where I could possibly go from here. It was extremely cold in the Challenger. Not quite as cold as outside, but in a few hours, there would be little difference. I couldn’t just sit here until morning. I’d freeze to death.
But I had to do something…
What on earth could I possibly do?
“Are you…still here?” I asked in desperation.
“Of course I am. I’ll stay with you until you’re safe.”
“I won’t be safe much longer.” I shivered as the cold caressed me, and I pulled up the collar of my overcoat to protect my ears and the back of my neck. “In a couple of hours, I’ll be frozen stiff.”
“I wouldn’t have helped you get this far just to let you sit here all night and freeze to death, would I?” the young woman asked.
“The keys…they’re not here.” It sounded lame, but nothing else seemed to matter. “I can’t go anywhere if I can’t start the car.”
“Maybe you won’t have to,” she said.
“Whatever do you think you can…how can I possibly…“
I couldn’t finish my statement. By the time I glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the flashing blue lights, the exhaustion had moved farther up, settling in my head.
Darkness overtook me.
Numbness came next.
CHAPTER FOUR
When I opened my eyes, I discovered that I was lying in a strange bed.
I raised my head a few inches and cringed at the throbbing in the back of my skull. I lay back down and waited until it subsided. It seemed to take forever, but after a few minutes, it finally settled down. Taking a breath, I carefully raised my head again and scanned the room.
I was in a hospital. The room was small and monotonously white. A white cabinet stacked with boxes of gauze and cotton—as well as scissors and tweezers—sat along the white wall on my right. A white curtain spanned the center of the room on my left, just a foot or so from the edge of the bed. A tall, thickset woman dressed in white stood near the foot of the bed, scribbling something on a clipboard. Once she’d finished, she let the clipboard hang from the metal frame. Then she glanced at me.
“We were wondering when you’d finally decide to come back and join us,” she said in a soft, low-pitched voice. “You haven’t budged in twelve hours.”
Twelve hours. I couldn’t believe it. For a moment I thought she was kidding, but I knew better. I just couldn’t believe that I’d been out cold for that long. “I’ve been asleep…for twelve hours?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“Twelve hours?” That fact alone staggered my imagination.
She smiled. “Lemme guess. You’ve got somewhere else to be?”
I ignored her comment. There were too many other things I wanted to know. “How’d I get here?” Right now, that was the most important issue.
She shrugged. “Most likely, in an ambulance.”
I wasn’t exactly in the mood for quips. “I meant—“
“Sorry, just a little hospital humor I thought I’d throw in. I honestly don’t know. My shift just started two hours ago. I wasn’t given the details—just that you’d suffered a nasty blow to the back of your head, as well as some other minor injuries. You’ve also suffered a slight concussion and early stages of frostbite on your toes, but all that’s been taken care of.”
Startled, I sat up and stared down at the foot of my bed. I tried wiggling them. They hurt at first and seemed stiff. “You didn’t…I still have them, don’t I?”
She smiled. “Amputation wasn’t necessary. But your clothes weren’t so lucky.” She wrinkled her nose. “That suit looks pretty bad and smells like you took it much too close to a dump.”
The jacket and trousers were draped more or less neatly over the back of the chair next to the foot of the bed, on my left. The jacket was dirty and stained in several places. The suit had cost me two grand, but I was much too grateful to be alive than be angry over damaged clothes. “Yeah, I did end up on the wrong side of the tracks. But in my defense, it really wasn’t my idea.”
She regarded it and shook her head. “A real shame. It’s a nice suit, too.”
“So you have no idea who brought me in?” I really wanted to move on and find out what exactly had happened.
“I’m assuming the paramedics admitted you. Judging by your chart, a call was made yesterday morning, around three-thirty. You were brought in just before three-forty-five.”
“And that’s all you know?”
“The other nurses will know more, but yes, that’s about it for me.”
A vague image of Gino’s Bar & Grill on Liberty Avenue flashed in my head. “So you have no idea where I was found?”
“Sorry.” She turned to leave and then thought better of it. “By the way, there’s a woman out in the waiting room who wants to talk to you.”
“A woman?” My pulse hastened. Could it be the woman who’d saved my life? The lady who belonged to the voice that had guided me away from those street punks?
The nurse nodded. “A woman. Just like me, only younger, taller and prettier…with a lot more hair.”
My imagination immediately went berserk. I could hardly contain myself.
“She said her name was Brittany Sanderson and that she works at E&S SoftSystems.”
My heart sank. It wasn’t the voice at all. But at least I knew what she was talking about. “She must be my contact.”
“Ash-blond hair? A figure to die for?”
“I’ve never seen the lady before.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat.”
“Actually, I came here for a business meeting. I have no control over who they’ve sent to pick me up.” I found that I was a little irritated. I didn’t know if it was because of her innuendoes or because I was frustrated that I couldn’t find out anything about the voice.
“Well, she’s a real looker.”
“They must have heard what happened and sent her here to see how I’m doing.”
“Would you like to see her?”
“Please.”
“I’ll have her come in. I guess I can let you two have fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled and left the room.
I lay back and gritted my teeth as another seething wave of nauseating pain pounded the back of my skull.
I still couldn’t believe I’d been lying here for twelve hours. It felt like such a very short time since I’d blacked out in the Challenger. But I didn’t think the nurse would lie to me. It had no doubt taken some time to bring me here, examine me, fix the gash on the back of my head and tend to my frozen
toes and my other injuries.
Suddenly curious, I reached up and gingerly felt the back of my head. It was covered with a large bandage, and the effort had caused a sharp pain slicing down my back. I let my arm drop and sighed.
Then I tried remembering everything.
Doing a rough calculation, I figured that if I’d left Gino’s at around eight-thirty, I was at the mercy of those street punks for at least six hours. I had no idea exactly how long I’d been unconscious, but they’d obviously had more than enough time to knock me unconscious, drag me into the alley, dump me on the cold, rough pavement, go through my pockets, and enjoy their evening meal.
And if I hadn’t gotten away from them…
But I had. I had gotten away. I’d also managed to make it back to the rental…in one piece.
The voice was responsible. Somehow, the disembodied voice of a young woman had helped me escape certain death. I was convinced that if I hadn’t heard the voice, I would surely have been murdered long before now.
I thought more about the voice and struggled to recall every detail.
Was it my imagination?
If not, what happened?
Was it really someone’s voice? Or had the sharp blow to the back of my head injured a crucial part of my brain?
What if it wasn’t my imagination? What if it was an actual voice?
Did it belong to someone I knew? Someone I didn’t know?
Why couldn’t I see her?
Just as total confusion settled in, so did the thought of what the voice had actually done. This woman—whoever she was—had somehow distracted them and gotten them away from me. Then she came back and guided me out of the alley, to the safety of my rental.
But who the hell was she?
How in heaven’s name could I even begin to thank her when I didn’t even know if she was real? How could I find out if she was real if no one else knew anything about—
A Ripple in Time Page 3