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ARIZONA
What do pigs use as soap?
Hogwash.
* * *
Idrifted between consciousness and unconsciousness. I thought maybe I was dead, right up until the crushing weight of debris was lifted from my oxygen-deprived body. My lungs spasmed, knife-like pain stabbing my chest as I sucked in the foul-tasting air. I was stubbornly clinging to life in much the same way cheap toilet paper clings to an unsuspecting butt.
Rough arms wrapped around my body, jerking me off the floor and dragging me away from the smoke and collapsing ceiling. I was thankful for the rescue, but dang, the guy could use some pointers on how to handle the injured. My hearing was nearly useless, but the terrifying sound of another bomb going off somewhere near us had my body trembling in fear.
Cracking open my eyes, I was met with the glorious sight of flickering light and fuzzy outlines. Overwhelming relief swelled inside me. While I still couldn’t see well enough to make out much more, it gave me hope that if I managed to survive this ordeal, my vision might return.
As the person moved me farther away, every inch of my battered body radiated pain, especially my ribs. They felt like they’d been bruised—or worse. Even with the weight of the debris off my body, I was struggling to take in air. More concerning was the weird sucking sound that emanated from my chest with each breath I took.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew there wasn’t any way I’d be avoiding a trip to the hospital. And that meant my vacation was likely out of the question since I’d need to use my savings to cover my medical bills instead. I knew what happened tonight was far bigger than a vacation, and I should be thankful to be alive, but my mind latched onto the intense disappointment, and fresh tears leaked from my eyes.
Hasta la vista, Mexico.
My ears rang from the explosions, but through the racket, I heard a loud hiss. Great. A gas leak was just what I needed to really take this night to the next level. We should be nearing the end of the dark hallway. But I knew what stood in our way of escape: a reinforced steel door. My heart sank. Whenever I exited through the door, I had to put my full body weight into it, and that was after my keycard had unlocked the bolts, locking it into place. With the alarm bells ringing, the bolts were likely secured and not able to be unlatched without the master key now. We were trapped.
“Too. Strong—” I struggled to speak, but stopped when the dark shape of my rescuer slammed into the door. With a screech, it bent like a tin can and flew outside into the empty parking lot.
“Dangg. Youuu’re strong.” The words came out slurred, and dizziness made my head swim. The museum’s structure must have been damaged pretty badly if this man had been able to knock the thick steel door down like a stereotypical superhero. A weird half hiss, half growl was the only response I received. Who could blame him? I was betting his shoulder hurt like a witch. He’d slammed into that door like a freaking wrecking ball.
I giggled, my mind swirling like I was on a merry-go-round from a roadside carnival that was wobbly, covered in duct tape, and possibly drunk. I started groggily humming. Logically, I knew that was a bad sign. No sane person would find anything about this situation the slightest bit humorous. Was I going into shock? Instead of reacting to the severity of the situation, my body responded by trying to hum the catchy song about wrecking balls. That was a definite mistake, and one that sent searing pain shooting through my chest.
My giggle turned to a groan, and the steel band of arms around my waist tightened. This dude must be ripped.
Yummy. Eye candy!
Unfortunately, it was hard to appreciate some eye candy when you couldn’t see. My eyesight was improving, but at a rate slower than I was happy with. A street lamp in the parking lot cast a soft light, and I was able to make out the fuzzy shape of the royal blue dumpster and the museum’s van. The van was locked up tight, and they kept the only set of keys locked in the curator’s office. I’d walked to the museum that morning. This was going to be a problem since I was in no shape to walk three steps, let alone to walk across town to the nearest clinic.
I needed an ambulance, and I hoped the stranger had a cellphone because mine was no doubt buried under a pile of rubble. I was pretty dang proud I’d managed to stay conscious. Well, mostly.
“Do you think—” The sucking in my chest made every word a challenge. “You. Could call—”
That’s all I could gasp out before dozens of stars twinkled in my vision, and not the kind nestled high in the night sky. No, these were the beautiful, sparkly type of stars that signaled my tenuous hold on consciousness was fading fast. And I really wanted to see my rescuer before that happened.
I muddled through the quicksand in my mind that was sucking me into the darkness. My brain seemed to be fragmenting, confusing what was real and what wasn’t. What if my rescuer pulled that disappearing crap act? I was one of those people who couldn’t figure out whodunit until the very end of a book, so I’d never figure out who he was. Panic bubbled in my chest, my mood becoming more unstable than my pulse. He hadn’t even sung for me! I wouldn’t be able to recognize him later by the sound of his voice! I could end up married to a sea witch instead of my hero, all because of a case of mistaken identity. I wouldn’t get my happily ever after. Tears streamed down my cheeks at the tragedy of it all.
In the middle of my pity party, a new thought wormed its way to the forefront of my crumbling mind. What had this man been doing in the museum in the first place? A keycard was needed to enter or exit, and no one but Pete and I were supposed to be in the back of the museum today. My head throbbed, the strain of working through the puzzle causing a migraine. Or maybe the whole ancient dust in my face or being crushed by debris had caused the skull-pounding headache.
The mystery man dropped me onto the sidewalk. Well, not quite dropping me. It was more like he laid me down—roughly.
“What. The. Heck.” Each word was a harsh hiss, but the lack of oxygen took most of the heat from my tone.
I lay panting on the sidewalk. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to stop the sweat that beaded my skin and dripped into my eyes. Who knew breathing was such hard work? If I made it through the night, I would never take it for granted again.
A shadow blocked up the hazy light from the streetlamp, and the man leaned over me, his body taking shape. Except it wasn’t the shape of a human. He was a giant lizard man thing?
Good goddess! I was in worse shape than I’d realized if I was already hallucinating.
The head of the lizard moved closer to my face. Wait. He wasn’t a lizard; he was a dinosaur. Which made no more sense than him being a lizardman.
I had to give props to my brain, though. This illusion was crazy realistic. A new thought wormed through my mind. What if the old dirt I’d inhaled was some ancient drug to help people see visions? That might explain what I was seeing. Forest green scales ran the length of his head and across the parts of his body that I could see in the dim light. Yellow eyes glowed as they looked at me, and long catlike slits in the pupil sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes held humanlike intelligence, which was more than a little terrifying in a powerful monster. Every fiber of my being wanted to run for my life, but my trembling muscles were too weak to sit up, let alone run for my ever-loving life.
The creature’s head tilted to the side, and brilliantly white teeth grinned at me like I was the yummiest looking dinner he’d ever seen.
