Chapter 35 #2
She knelt beside the couch and shook my shoulder gently. I let my head loll to the side but didn't react otherwise.
“This is not normal. People don't just pass out from nausea.” I could hear her moving away from me, and then the sound of a laptop being opened. “Okay, WebMD. Please help me figure out what's wrong with her.”
Perfect. If I could keep this up long enough, maybe she'd panic enough to leave me alone while she went for help.
I listened to her typing frantically, muttering to herself as she searched for information.
“Nausea, vomiting, unconsciousness after medication.” More typing. “Oh God, these symptoms could mean brain swelling. Or an allergic reaction. Or drug toxicity.”
I heard her get up and come back over to me. She shook my shoulder again, harder this time.
“Joy, wake up. I need you to wake up right now.”
I didn't respond. I forced myself to keep my breathing shallow and irregular, like someone who was seriously ill.
“Okay, it says here that if someone becomes unconscious after medication, the first thing to do is make sure they're getting enough fluids.” Glenda's voice was getting more panicked by the minute. “Joy, I'm going to need you to wake up and drink some water.”
She shook me harder, and this time I let my eyes flutter open just a little. I made sure to look confused and disoriented.
“Glenda?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“Thank God. You scared me so badly.” She slipped her arm under my shoulders again and tried to lift me into a sitting position. “I need you to drink some water. The internet says you need fluids.”
“I can't.” I let my head loll to the side. “Everything comes back up.”
“You have to try. Please, Joy. Just a few sips.”
She held the glass to my lips again, and I took a small amount of water into my mouth. Then I immediately forced myself to vomit it back up, along with more bile from my empty stomach. The force of it made my whole body convulse, and this time I didn't have to fake the tears that sprang to my eyes.
“I'm sorry,” I gasped between heaves. “I'm so sorry. I know you're trying to help.”
“No, don't apologize. This isn't your fault, either.” But I could hear the panic creeping back into her voice. “Maybe it's an allergic reaction. Let me look up the medication I gave you and see what the symptoms are.”
She went back to the laptop, and I could hear her typing even more frantically than before.
“Midazolam adverse reactions,” she muttered to herself. “Oh God, there are so many possible side effects. Respiratory depression, cardiovascular collapse, allergic reactions.” Her voice got higher with each item she read. “Joy, have you ever had a reaction to anesthesia before?”
“Yes, with the dentist,” I whispered. “Remember?”
That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. I heard her sharp intake of breath, and then more frantic typing.
“It says here that some people can have severe reactions after their first exposure.” She was talking faster now, her words tumbling over each other. “It says that if someone is vomiting repeatedly and losing consciousness, they need immediate medical attention.”
This was it. This was my chance.
“Maybe you should call someone,” I suggested weakly. “A doctor, or—”
“I can't call a doctor. They'll ask too many questions.” Glenda's voice was tight with anxiety. “But maybe I could drive to the pharmacy. Get you something to stop the vomiting. Something to counteract the reaction.”
“I don't want you to leave me.” I made my voice small and scared, which wasn't hard since that's exactly how I felt. “What if I get worse while you're gone?”
“You're getting worse anyway.” She came back over to me, her face creased with worry. “Joy, I'm scared. I've never seen anyone this sick from medication before. I think I need to get you something to help.”
“How long would you be gone?”
“The pharmacy is less than fifteen minutes away. Maybe a half hour or a little more round trip, plus however long it takes to find the right medication.” She knelt beside the couch and brushed my hair back from my forehead. “I'll drive as fast as I can. I promise.”
A half hour. If I could get free in twenty minutes, I might have a chance to escape before she got back.
“Okay,” I whispered. “But please hurry. I feel really bad.”
“I will. I'll be back before you know it.” She kissed my forehead, and I had to fight not to recoil from her touch. “Try to rest while I'm gone.”
I nodded weakly and closed my eyes. I listened to her gathering her things, heard her footsteps moving toward what I assumed was the front door.
“I love you, Joy,” she called out. “I'm going to fix this. I promise.”
The door slammed shut, and a few seconds later I heard a car engine starting up. I waited until the sound faded completely before I opened my eyes and looked around.
I was alone.
The relief was so intense it almost made me dizzy. For the first time since she'd grabbed me in the parking garage, I was alone and unsupervised. This was my chance.
I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. The movement sent fresh waves of nausea through me, and I had to pause and breathe deeply to keep from throwing up again. Whatever drug she'd given me was still in my system, making everything harder than it should be.
But I didn't have time to wait for it to wear off. I had to move now, while I had the chance.
I swung my legs off the couch and managed to get myself into a sitting position.
The room spun around me for a few seconds, but it gradually stabilized.
I looked down at the ropes around my wrists and ankles.
They were tight, but not impossibly so. Miss Baker of the Year had to have a knife somewhere to cut her cake.
First, though, I wanted to see if there was a way to call for help.
Glenda had mentioned being fifteen minutes from the pharmacy, which meant we weren’t that remote.
What’s more, she had internet connectivity.
But maybe there was a landline anyway, or maybe her laptop wasn’t locked. A girl could hope.
I stood up carefully, testing my balance. The room swayed a little, but I managed to stay upright. With my ankles tied together, I had to take tiny shuffle steps, but I could move.
The laptop was still open on the kitchen table. I made my way over to it as quickly as I could manage and looked at the screen.
Fuck. It had the screensaver on.
I wondered if my purse and cell phone were around, but I wasn’t going to take the time to look for them. Right now, I needed to get my slow ass moving. I shuffled to the kitchen to find a knife.
I started opening drawers when I found the knives. The only one that my tied hands could handle was the paring knife.
It wasn't very big, but the blade was sharp enough. I picked it up carefully, trying not to cut myself with my hands still bound, and made my way back to the couch.
Cutting the ropes turned out to be harder than I'd expected. The drug was still making me clumsy, and twice I nearly dropped the knife.
Finally, I managed to position the blade against the rope around my left wrist and began sawing back and forth. It was slow going, and my wrists were getting scraped by the rope as I worked, but gradually I could feel it starting to give way.
When the rope finally snapped, the relief was incredible. I rubbed my raw wrists, trying to get the circulation flowing again. Then I quickly cut the ropes around my ankles.
I was free.
Now I just had to get out of here before Glenda came back.
I gave myself one minute to look around for my purse, my phone, anything that might help me figure out where I was or call for help. But I didn't see any of my belongings anywhere. Glenda must have left them in the trunk or hidden them somewhere I couldn't find.
I went to the front door and stepped outside.
I could see the lake through the trees. I couldn’t see a path down to it, just a dirt road leading away from the cabin with tire tracks on it.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I didn’t want to be on that road when Glenda could be driving back to the cabin.
My best shot was hiding in the woods. I knew damn good and well that Graham and the guys would have a lock on this place before the day was out.
My job was to stay away from Betty Psycho Crocker until then.
I turned and headed to the back of the cabin and saw a clearing, then the tree line. Before I could get to the trees, I heard a car engine.
Fuck!
I needed to get a move on.
Had I closed the cabin door?
“Joy!” Glenda shrieked.
Guess that answered that question. I’d left the cabin door open.
“Where are you, Joy? Are you playing hide and seek?”
Oh, she didn’t sound so good. No, she sounded like every single horror movie I’d ever watched. The ones where the lady tried to use candy to lure you to the bad guy.
I didn't wait to hear any more. I took off running into the trees. Behind me, I could hear her shouting my name, her voice getting more and more frantic. Luckily, I didn’t hear her getting closer, which had to mean she hadn’t realized I’d headed for the woods.
I stopped and leaned against a tree. I was done for. That sprint had taken all I had. I really was sick from the fake vomiting and the headache and that fucking medicine.
“Joy!”
Shit!
Where had she come from? She sounded close.
I started to run again.
“Joy. You weren’t sick, were you? It was all an act.”
Shit!
“You made a fool out of me.”
Shit!
I stopped running again, my side hurt, and I couldn’t run. God, I was having trouble seeing. My lungs were burning, and my legs felt like jelly. I needed to push forward. I had to keep moving. But I—
The gunshot cracked through the air like thunder.
What the fuck?!
I hit the ground instinctively, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Glenda had a gun?
Of course, she had a gun. How could I have been so stupid?
“I don't want to hurt you!” Her voice carried through the trees, closer than I'd expected. “But I can't let you leave! We belong together!”
Another shot rang out, and I heard the bullet hit a tree somewhere to my right.
I army-crawled forward through the undergrowth, trying to put as much distance as possible between myself and the sound of her voice. Every few seconds, I heard her crashing through the woods behind me, getting closer.
I hit my head against a tree trunk and fell backward.
Motherfucker!
Tears sprang up, and I blinked to clear my vision.
I hurt all over.
“Joy! You need to come back to me, right now.”
I felt the third gunshot before I heard it, or did I hear it before I felt it? It didn’t matter as the bullet that hit my shoulder launched me sideways into a tree limb, and I hit my head again. It should have hurt, but I was too panicked to let pain stop me. I had to keep going.
I dove face forward with one arm in front of me into a bunch of ferns, doing my best to hide.
I heard her getting closer.
So close.
“You are not going to get away from me. We were meant to be together. It’s our destiny. Even if we have to die. We will be together.”
This was not how I was going to die. Not in the middle of nowhere, hunted by a delusional woman with a gun.
I thought about Graham, lying in that hospital bed, probably wondering where I was. I thought about Little Grandma, who had survived the Depression and seen her sons die. I thought about all the people who were counting on me to come home.
I wasn't going to die here. Not like this.
I pushed up on my good arm and started running again.