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I struck without question.
I hit before they could hit me.
An umph sounded with a pained exhale before a click and a wash of light.
I cringed away from the brightness, my head pounding and my battered body stiff from surviving.
“You’re safe. No harm will come to you. Are you awake and aware, or do I need to get reinforcements?”
Rubbing my eyes, the terror of being hunted faded. Memories of the storm overshadowed memories of home, and I slouched. Raising my head, I blinked at the pretty young nurse with dusky-olive skin and brown-black hair watching me.
She rubbed at the side of her neck, letting me know where my strike had landed.
I hung my head and dug my fingers into my throbbing head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.”
I clenched my jaw.
That damn word again.
“You weren’t really supposed to sleep. You’re on concussion watch, but all hands were needed for an emergency. We’re a small hospital with typical staff shortages, so I apologise that no one has been around to check on you.” Dropping her arm, she consulted the forms that Jack Taylor had filled in on my behalf.
I watched her carefully as she skimmed whatever he’d written. A slight frown pinched between her eyes. “Your next of kin is Anna Taylor? The marine biologist?”
I flinched.
She knows her?
How sad was it that my world had been reduced to no one.
Everyone I ever loved or loved me was gone.
And a total stranger was listed as my next of kin.
I didn’t have the energy to explain, and a whisper in the back of my mind warned me to tread carefully. Trying to change the subject, I asked, “What...what time is it?”
She stood taller and flicked her wrist, checking a rose gold watch gleaming in the soft light. “Two a.m.”
I didn’t even remember falling asleep.
My thirst was back, along with hunger, but both urges were nowhere near as excruciating. And, unlike the other times when I’d woken from being unconscious, I wasn’t woozy or sick. The burger and water had replaced my strength, and I sat a little straighter in bed.
An awkward silence fell while the nurse glanced at my casted wrist, booted ankle, and the stitches in my head. Finally, she asked, “How are you feeling? Any significant discomfort? Do you need pain relief?” She scowled a little. “Not that we can administer anything stronger than paracetamol, seeing as your list of allergies and medical history hasn’t been filled in.”
Slipping a pen from her breast pocket of her uniform, she moved to one of the chairs Anna had dragged round to enjoy our picnic. Sitting down, she hovered the pen over the paperwork. “Can you tell me your date of birth? Your nationality? I’ll fill in the rest for you, so tomorrow, when border control officers arrive to interview you, they’ll have all the relevant information.”
My heart stopped. “Border control?”
She nodded slowly. “It’s protocol. You were found out to sea. We often receive asylum seekers trying to illegally enter Australia. It’s nothing personal, you understand. We merely want to ensure you have someone to help, money to survive, and a home to go to.”
Panic coiled through me, cold and sharp. “And if I don’t have a home?”
“Then we can arrange transport back to the one you left behind.”
Ice.
Freezing ice down my spine.
I swallowed hard, desperately willing my battered brain to figure out what to do. “When—” I cleared my throat. “When will the officers arrive?”
She gave me a searching look. “They’re usually here around ten o’clock. Gives the morning rotation time to assess you, perform any last-minute tests, and confirm that you’re fit for discharge.”
I nodded.
It was all I could do.
My throat closed up.
My eyes flew to the window, but then I forced them back to her. I did what I’d done ever since my uncle was killed and we were forced to run. I smothered down my terror and embraced the cold. “Do you mind if I get some more sleep then? Tomorrow sounds like it will be busy.”
She studied me for a moment before nodding. “Pass our final concussion test and I’ll leave you be until daybreak.” Striding toward the bedside table and its collection of buttons and wires, she opened the drawer and held up a laminated piece of paper. “Read this fully and completely.”
I frowned but obeyed as she passed it to me.
It was nothing more than nonsense.
Utter stupidity of a dog chasing a mouse and failing, along with a few extremely basic arithmetic.
I handed it back to her. “Why did I have to read that?”
Keeping it tucked to her chest, she smiled gently. “If you remember the story and the sums and can recall which way the mouse ran, it’s safe to say you aren’t suffering a concussion.”
Striding away, she said over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
