Chapter 6 - The Moving Cage
I woke up to the sound of tires humming loudly over wet asphalt.
My head throbbed with a blinding, relentless pain.
I tried to reach up to touch my skull, but my wrists were tightly bound together with heavy zip-ties.
My ankles were taped to the metal leg of a stretcher.
I slowly opened my eyes and realized I was bouncing in the back of a moving ambulance.
The interior was stripped bare of all medical supplies, replaced by electronic monitoring equipment.
Lily was lying on a small cot across from me, connected to an IV drip.
She was completely unconscious, her chest rising and falling in a deep, unnatural rhythm.
Sarah sat beside her, constantly checking a tablet screen filled with scrolling medical data.
I tested the strength of the plastic zip-ties against my wrists.
They were incredibly tight, digging painfully into my skin with every movement.
I noticed a discarded surgical scalpel resting on the metal counter just a few inches from my bound feet.
I waited until the ambulance hit a large pothole, making the vehicle violently shake.
During the chaotic movement, I stretched my leg and knocked the scalpel off the counter.
It clattered softly to the floor, sliding right next to my taped ankles.
Sarah did not look up from her tablet, completely absorbed in her monitoring duties.
I contorted my body, slowly bending my knees until my bound hands could reach my feet.
I carefully picked up the sharp scalpel and began sawing at the thick plastic bindings.
The blade sliced through the zip-tie, freeing my hands instantly.
I kept perfectly still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The ambulance suddenly slowed down, taking a sharp, grinding turn onto a gravel road.
Sarah stood up to look through the small window separating the cab from the back.
I silently stood up behind her and wrapped my arm around her throat.
I pressed the cold steel of the scalpel directly against her neck.
I ordered the driver to stop the vehicle immediately.
The driver slammed on the brakes, throwing us all forward.
I looked through the small glass partition to see who was driving.
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The driver slowly turned his head to look back at me.
It was my husband, Mark.
