Chapter 6 - The Great Escape
I woke up in the back of a moving vehicle.
The air smelled of stale disinfectant and leather. My hands were cuffed behind my back with heavy plastic flex-i-cuffs, and my ankles were bound together with thick duct tape. A piece of medical tape sealed my mouth shut.
I was lying on a gurney in the back of a private, blacked-out medical transport van.
Through the small glass window separating the rear cab from the driver’s seat, I could see two men: Dr. Keller in the passenger seat, and a large, muscular security guard driving.
My head throbbed violently from Victoria’s strike, and my C-section incision felt like it was on fire. But the pain was nothing compared to the cold, desperate fury consuming my soul.
I looked around the dark interior of the van. Stored in a plastic rack on the side wall were emergency medical supplies: IV bags, bandages, and a orange plastic sharps disposal container containing used needles and surgical scalpels.
I twisted my body, ignoring the searing tear in my stomach, and reached my bound hands toward the sharps container. It was six inches beyond my reach.
I kicked my legs, using my taped ankles to slam against the bottom of the plastic rack.
BANG!
The rack jolted. The orange sharps container fell off the wall, crashing onto the floor right next to my hands. A used, stainless steel disposable scalpel spilled onto the linoleum carpet.
I grabbed the scalpel, gripping the plastic handle between my clumsy, bound fingers. Working frantically behind my back, I sliced the blade against the tough plastic flex-cuffs around my wrists. The blade nicked my skin, drawing blood, but I didn't care.
SNAP.
The plastic cuff broke. My hands were free.
I quickly sliced through the tape on my ankles and peeled the gag off my mouth, suffocating a gasp of pain.
I looked up through the front partition window. The van was stopping at a red light at a deserted highway intersection surrounded by dense woods. A road sign indicated we were twenty miles outside the city limits, heading toward the mountains—toward St. Jude’s Secure Facility.
This was my only chance.
I snatched a heavy, metal oxygen tank from the wall bracket. I stood up, braced my feet against the floorboards, and slammed the heavy iron cylinder straight through the glass partition separating the back from the front cab!
CRASH!
Glass shattered into a thousand glittering shards.
“What the hell?!” the driver screamed, glass showering over his shoulders.
Before Dr. Keller could turn around, I shoved the heavy end of the oxygen tank straight into the side of the driver’s head.
The driver groaned, his hands slipping off the steering wheel. The van swerved wildly across the road, tires screeching against the asphalt, before slamming violently into a ditch on the shoulder of the highway.
The impact threw me against the padded wall. Airbags deployed in the front with a deafening BANG.
Smoke rolled out from under the dashboard. In the front seat, the driver was unconscious, slumped against his airbag. Dr. Keller was coughing violently, clutching his bloody nose, dazed and disoriented.
I didn't hesitate. I kicked open the van’s rear doors and tumbled out into the cold night air.
My feet hit the damp gravel. I ran.
I ran blindly into the dark woods bordering the highway, the branches tearing at my clothes and face, my bare feet bleeding on sharp rocks and pine needles. Behind me, I heard Dr. Keller’s raspy voice yelling into the darkness: “Clara! Stop! You won't survive out there!”
I didn't stop. I ran until my lungs felt like they were filled with liquid fire, until my C-section wound bled through my sweatpants, until the sound of the highway faded into total silence.
I finally collapsed beneath a giant oak tree, gasping for air, clutching my bleeding stomach. Tears of agony and exhaustion streamed down my face.
I was hunted. I had no money, no phone, no shoes, and no legal identity left. The Mercer family owned the police, the hospitals, and the media.
But as I lay in the cold mud under the starlight, looking up at the vast, dark sky, a strange calm washed over me.
May you like
They thought I was broken. They thought I was a helpless victim they could lock away in a dark room.
They were wrong. I was a mother whose child had been stolen. And there is nothing on this earth more dangerous than a mother with nothing left to lose.
