Concealed in the Shadows

  ***

  What seems like a blink later, I cautiously open my heavy eyes.

  “You’re a righty,” says a man dressed in blue scrubs. He looks to be in his late forties, maybe older.

  “What?” I ask, dizzy and confused.

  “Your chip. It was in your right wrist. Not many of those, I imagine. Sorry about the scar on your left.”

  Who is this man? Why is he talking about my chip? Where am I? I examine my wrists to find them wrapped in dingy bandages. Suddenly I remember the attack in the forest. The man in this artificially lighted room wasn’t one of my attackers, I know that much. Both of them were taller and in their prime. Still, I’m scared and distrusting of this stranger and this place.

  I can blow past this guy. He won’t expect it and he’ll never catch me. His head tilts sideways as he tries to read my thoughts. He’s astute and suspecting. I can read it in his eyes. The time is now.

  I spring from my horizontal position, disregarding the blanket that covers me. It tangles my feet and the IV tears at my hand.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” the man panics, rushing to the end of the bed. He reaches for me, but he’s an instant too late. The IV stand crashes to the floor about the same time that I do. “Della!” he yells over his shoulder. I lamely move my arms and legs in any kind of resistance. I become so woozy that I vomit on myself. “Sedative!” he orders to the clicking feet that enter the room.

  “Again?” a dark-haired, stoutly woman asks, looking at me and not him. I take her to be another doctor or a nurse, since she’s dressed in scrubs too. I might trust them. I might think that someone has rescued me from the men that attacked me, but the surroundings of this supposed hospital are amiss. “Now!” he demands. I watch uneasily as she scuttles to upright the IV stand and pierces my pinned hand.

  I regain enough strength to pull my other arm away from the man, but he has the advantage of knowing what I am trying to do. He lets me hit him so long as he protects the hand containing the IV. My effort is futile. The doctor’s weight lightens and his eyes focus on mine. “Go to sleep. It’s okay. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  I wish I could believe that some hero rescued me and brought me here, to a real hospital, to real doctors who can make me better. But they removed my chip. My instincts tell me that these people disguised in blue are associated with my attackers. They are two more who have abducted me, who mean to confine me. I want to keep thinking, I need to figure out a way to escape, but my mind turns to paste and I drift away again.