Prologue #4
Exhaustion made her eyelids droop. She slapped her face several times. If it weren’t so cool outside the car, she would have rolled down the window. But with the baby in the backseat, she couldn’t.
Her eyelids slipped closed, only for a second. Her chin dipped toward her chest.
A loud horn sounded, jerking her awake to the headlights of an oncoming tractor-trailer rig.
Her heart leaping into her throat, she swerved right. The car left the road and flew across a ditch.
When her headlights flashed across a telephone pole, she turned the steering wheel sharply to the right before the car crashed into the pole, crushing the driver’s door into her side.
Her head bounced against the window, hard enough to crack the glass and pain shot through her shoulder and ribs. Smoke rose from the engine, and the acrid scent of gasoline filled her nostrils.
Her mind numb from hitting her head, she tried to focus. Smoke...gasoline...
A baby’s cry pierced her brain fog. “My baby!” she cried, struggling to get out of her seat.
The seatbelt held her tightly trapped in her seat. She fought with the button, her hand shaking so badly it fumbled several times before she located the button.
The baby’s cries grew louder as the smoke filtered into the interior of the car.
“I’m coming,” she called out, pushing harder on the button until it finally clicked and released the buckle. Shoving the belt over her lap, she turned in her seat and tried to raise her left arm to brace against the steering wheel.
Pain knifed through her arm. She cried out and clutched the arm with her other hand. Her fingers connected with warm, thick liquid. She tried again to move the arm, but the pain was so bad she almost passed out.
She had to get the baby out of the car. Smoke could mean there was a fire. It might only be a matter of moments before the fire found the gasoline...
She turned and, with her good hand, clawed her way over the console and fell into the back seat, bouncing against the baby’s car seat.
The baby screamed and coughed, the smoke getting thicker, making it hard to see.
She straightened as best she could. With her good hand, she fought with the buckles on the car seat safety straps, the smoke making her eyes burn and her throat ache.
When she couldn’t get the buckle to release with just one hand, she tried to release the car seat from where it was anchored to the backseat.
Just as she thought they’d die in the car, the back door on the baby’s side of the car was yanked open.
“There’s a baby back here,” a man’s voice called out. “And a woman.”
The man quickly released the safety restraints on the car seat and snatched the baby out, handing it to the man behind him.
Then he released the seatbelt holding the car seat in place and pulled it out.
Then he hooked his hands beneath her arms and dragged her across the seat and out into the open air.
The pain in her shoulder was so intense she must have blacked out. When she came to, she was being carried up an embankment. “My baby!” she cried, reaching back with her good arm.
“It's okay. We need to get you away from the car before it—”
An explosion blasted the air.
The man holding her pitched forward.
She hit the ground, and her world went black.
She woke to bright lights shining down on her and a woman in scrubs typing on the keyboard of a mobile data-collection device like the ones used in hospital rooms.
“My baby?” she croaked, her voice not sounding anything like herself.
“Your baby is doing fine,” the nurse answered.
“Just a little cough from smoke inhalation, but she will make a full recovery. You, on the other hand, need to take it easy. You suffered a concussion, a dislocated shoulder and broken ribs. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.
I’m sure you’ll want to hear what he has to say. ”
Forcing words past her scratching throat, she asked. “Where am I?”
“Nebraska Medical Center. The ambulance brought you to the closest trauma center from your accident.”
She briefly closed her eyes, avoiding the harsh lights. “How long?” She looked up at the nurse.
“How long have you been out?” The woman’s eyebrows rose, and she blinked. “Two days.”
Her heart skipped several beats and then pounded against her aching ribs. Two days would have given her husband time to free himself of the scarves and begin his search for her. She tried to sit up and cried out in pain when she put weight on her arm.
“Steady there, Jane,” the nurse eased her back into the bed and fussed with the IV in her arm.
She frowned up at the nurse. “Jane?”
“Sorry,” the nurse grimaced. “I’m Abby, the night-shift nurse.
When they brought you in two days ago, they didn’t find any identification on you and your car.
..” Abby winced. “Well, it burned. The fire was so hot that anything inside would’ve been incinerated.
You were lucky a truck driver pulled you and your baby out before it exploded. ”
“A truck driver?”
“He was treated for minor burns and abrasions and released. Because we didn’t have a name, your chart reads Jane Doe.
But now that you’re awake, we can fix it.
” She smiled. “What’s your name, and who is your next of kin.
We can contact them and let them know you’re going to be all right. I’m sure they’re worried about you.”
Her mouth started to form around her name when she realized that was the last thing she needed to reveal. Instead, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
The nurse’s brow dipped in concern. “Oh, sweetie. You did suffer a concussion. It’s possible you have some temporary memory loss. Do you remember your baby’s name?”
Again, she shook her head. “No.”
Nurse Amy patted her hand. “Don’t worry. The doctor will be by to see you soon. I’m sure you’ll be fine. In the meantime, relax and rest. I can bring your baby in for a few minutes if you’d like.”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Maybe later. My head is...woozy.”
And it was. But she also needed time to think.
No. She needed to leave.
“I’ll be back with the doctor,” Nurse Amy said.
When the door to her room swung shut, she pulled the IV from her arm and eased out of the bed, using her good arm for leverage. As soon as her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled. She lay over the bed until she steadied, breathing in and out, hoping to clear her vision.
Feeling a little better, she pushed to stand straight and glance down at the hospital gown someone had dressed her in.
Where were her clothes?
She shuffled slowly across the floor to a closet and pulled the door open. A plastic bag lay on a shelf. Her sneakers, muddy and ragged, had been placed neatly on top of the bag.
She dug in the bag and pulled out the blouse she’d worn.
It had been cut into pieces. Tossing it aside, she found her jeans and fought, one-handed, to pull them up her legs and zip them.
She didn’t bother to button the rivet. There wasn’t enough time for her to fool with it.
Her shoes were another challenge she managed to overcome.
Since her shirt and bra had been cut from her body, she tucked the hem of her hospital gown into the waistband of her jeans.
Dressed as best she could, she hurried to the whiteboard on the wall and scrawled a hasty message.
Then she dug into her pocket, thankful the little box hadn’t been lost in the accident.
She removed the necklace with the letter B engraved on the silver disk and hung it on a magnet next to the message.
Her heart ached more than her injured shoulder as she eased open the door and peered out.
Nurse Amy carried a tiny cup full of pills and a Styrofoam cup with a straw into a room several doors down.
Other than a male patient walking slowly down the hallway, wheeling a pole with an IV bag, the coast was clear.
Her heart heavy, fear giving her the adrenaline she needed to fuel her escape, she slipped out into the hallway.
As she passed the man with the IV pole, she asked, “Where’s the elevator?”
He tipped his head to the right. “Just past the nurse’s station.”
Murmuring a soft thank you, she ducked her head and scurried past the nurse’s station, her arm around her middle to apply gentle pressure to her broken ribs while she held her injured arm to keep it from swinging.
Once in the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor and leaned against the wall for support as it descended.
When the door opened, she stepped out, crossed the lobby and exited the hospital.
She didn’t know where she’d go, or how she’d survive, but somewhere in that hospital her baby would be cared for.
If they followed her instructions, they would find a loving family who would give her baby the life that she deserved.
Having done all she could to save her babies, she disappeared into the night.