NEBRASKA
Maggie didn’t know how she had gotten into the back of the SUV.
She did remember that there had been two more jolts of pain, each one more excruciating than the first. She had felt her eyes roll back in her head. Maybe she had passed out. She couldn’t focus. Vision was blurry. So much pain had rocketed through her body. She remembered seeing her arms jump with each jolt but she had no control. Saw them flail and flap like a rag doll. Her back muscles had spasmed, tightened stiff, and locked in position until the next jolt of electricity jammed its way through.
Now as she lay in the back of the vehicle, her chest ached. It hurt to breathe. Her pulse raced—too fast, way too fast. Her throat was raw and dry—so dry—she couldn’t swallow. And yet, her mouth hung open. She felt drool sliding down her chin.
She stared at the ceiling of the vehicle. She saw her knees bunched up beside her. At least she thought they were her knees. She couldn’t feel them. Her hands were in front of her, bound at the wrists by a zip tie. She had no idea if her feet were bound together. She couldn’t see or feel them, either.
A voice droned on and on. It reverberated, hollow and muffled from somewhere above her head. Or was it inside her head? She didn’t recognize it. The radio?
“ … should have headed back to Denver.”
No, it was him. He was talking about her. Talking to her. From the front seat, right above her head. But he sounded like he was miles away at the other end of a tunnel. She could only decipher bits and pieces of what he was saying.
The vehicle started turning and she slid. Something thumped against the wall beside her. A clank of metal rang in her ears. The tires switched from pavement to dirt, hard and rutted. Her body bounced and her head banged. A wave of nausea came over her and she started to panic. If she vomited she wouldn’t be able to roll over. She’d choke. She felt dizzy and looked for something to focus on. Like Dawson, she needed something to keep her eyes on, to concentrate on.
Outside the window she saw deep, dark-blue sky and a few blurred glitters. Twilight. How could it already be so dark?
Another turn. Another clank.
Maggie twisted her head so she could continue to see the sky. In doing so she also got a glimpse of what clanked beside her.
Oh, God, it was a shovel.
The nausea became strong. Her panic continued to rise up.
Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight.
She found a twinkling star in the deep sea of twilight and she held on.