* * *
She must have blacked out. When she came to, the darkness was broken by flashes of lightning followed by the boom of thunder. She lay wedged between the steering wheel and the seat, her knees smashed against the brake and gas pedals. With every movement, her head swam. Despite the pain and fog, survival instincts forced her to claw her way upward, searching for the door handle and a way out of the car, standing on its nose.
The driver’s side door handle wasn’t far. She gripped it and pushed. It didn’t move. Leaning her shoulder against the door, she tried again. This time it swung open, gravity giving it speed. Having applied all her weight to get it moving, she didn’t have time nor the mental acuity to catch herself before she followed the door, bouncing against it as it reached its limit.
Then she rolled over and dropped to the ground, her head hitting something hard.
She woke to the steady deluge of cold rain pummeling her face and hair, soaking every inch of her body. Or was she lying in water?
Lightning illuminated the sky.
The car had landed in a creek bed, nose first, the rear end resting against a steep bank. Water was rising fast around her, tugging at her clothes. Tree branches scraped her skin. If she didn’t move, the current could carry her away.
Avery rolled over onto her hands and knees and pulled herself up the steep embankment by holding onto tree roots and branches. When she reached the top, she collapsed, resting her face against the cool, muddy ground, letting her head stop spinning before she lifted it again.
Where was she?
Gathering what little strength she could muster, she pushed up to her knees and lurched to her feet, sliding in the mud. When she teetered and slipped backward, she flailed her arms, catching a low-hanging branch, holding on until she regained her balance.
A glance backward at her car made her heart leap in her chest. The creek was quickly becoming a raging river, the water filling the car, pushing it inch by inch downstream.
Rain, when it came in Texas, hardly ever arrived gently. Often, like at that moment, the sky opened up and dumped several inches within minutes, creating flash floods.
If she didn’t want to end up like her car, she had to get to higher ground and find help before she passed out again. As dizzy as she was, that could happen at any moment.
Following the path the car had made through the brush, she stepped over broken branches, the snapped trunks of tiny trees and fell over rotting logs. Each time, she lay for a moment, her vision blurred and her stomach roiling. If she didn’t get back to the road, she could drown or die of exposure as cold rain lowered her body temperature.
Find help.
After what seemed like forever, she staggered out onto pavement, turned to find headlights speeding her way, and dropped to her knees, then to her hands, and sank onto the cold, wet ground, letting the darkness consume her.
* * *
Avery was back in the warehouse where the syndicate staged product prior to shipment. Though her senses were on high alert, she pretended it was just another day running stolen artwork and laundering massive amounts of cash. She glanced at her watch. T-minus three minutes. Her body stiffened, her muscles bunching, ready to react as soon as the combined FBI, CIA and Interpol team breached the doors and brought the entire operation down. The culmination of two years of work, infiltrating, gaining their trust, and they would finally bring the key players to justice.
A loud boom sounded, blowing the overhead doors inward. Bright lights knifed through the darkness, blinding her.
“Hey,” a soft, feminine voice spoke softly. “I think she’s coming around.”
“Miss,” a man said as if from the other end of a long tunnel. “If you can hear me, open your eyes.”
Avery tried to do as he said, her eyelids like heavy doors, refusing to open. “Can’t,” she whispered.
“You can do it,” the woman said. “Just try.”
Avery focused on her eyelids, pushing every ounce of strength and awareness into that one small movement. Her eyelids fluttered and then slowly raised.
Bright lights assaulted her. She cried out and raised her arms to shield her face from the oncoming vehicle racing toward her like a freight train.
Hands touched hers and brought her arms back to her sides. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Squinting through narrowed eyes, she looked up into the face of a woman who had her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and wore gray scrubs with a stethoscope looped around her neck. A nurse? Or doctor?
“What—” Avery blinked, easing her eyes open wider, letting a little more of the glaring light in. Not a vehicle or a freight train, but a fluorescent light fixture attached to a ceiling. “Where?—”
“You were in an accident and suffered a concussion. The first responders brought you here to the Baylor Scott & White Hillcrest Medical Center three days ago.”
Her brow pinched, causing a dull ache to reverberate through her skull. “Say again? She raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “How many days?” she asked, her voice stronger, but sounding like she had a handful of gravel in her throat.
