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Morgan's consciousness clawed its way to the surface, and she found herself gasping for air. Her head throbbed with pain, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to her skull. Blinking through the haze, Morgan struggled to comprehend her surroundings: blinding light, the acrid smell of smoke, and the cold touch of metal beneath her fingers.
Morgan's pain-filled gaze focused on the silver surface of a door handle. She tried to speak, but her throat was oddly dry and she couldn't manage to utter a sound.
Consciousness is returning, she thought, struggling to remember what had happened. Her memories seemed to dance just out of reach, refusing to give answers.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess; her mind felt block and confused. As Morgan tried to piece together what was going on, a haunting image flashed before her eyes.
The car chase.
Morgan fully came to with a start, realizing that she was on the road, dragging herself away from her destroyed car. She looked back to see it flipped in the ditch, then she looked both ways up the long highway, bathed in the bright Texas sun.
Whoever had been chasing her--shooting at her--was gone.
They had tried to kill her... but they hadn't finished the job.
As she looked to her left, she saw a car appear up the road, driving straight toward her. At first, she thought it was her attacker again, back to finish her off. But as it drew closer and then came to a screeching halt, Morgan realized that she recognized the plate.
Derik hurried out from the driver's side, rushing toward her.
"Morgan!" his voice broke through the fog in her mind, urgent and filled with concern. For a moment, she blacked out. Then she felt a strong grip on her shoulder and turned to see Derik's familiar green eyes, his face etched with worry. He leaned closer, frantically checking her over for injuries. "Are you okay?"
he asked, his voice shaking.
Her body still felt like a limp rag doll, so she tried to answer, but her voice was just as weak as her body. "I'm not sure, everything is kind of blurry." She tried to focus, but a sharp pain in her chest made it hard to breathe.
Derik's eyes drift down, only to return just as quickly. "We need to get you to a hospital," he said.
"No," she tried to wave him off, but a wave of pain made her reconsider. Her vision was still swimming; she could barely see straight from all the pain. "Someone attacked me," she managed. "It... it was probably Thomas, but I never saw who they were."
She struggled to stand, and Derik helped her up. On wobbly legs, Morgan found her footing, using Derik's weight as a support. She remembered what she was doing before the crash--rushing to the bird sanctuary to chase down a lead.
"The lead," she managed. "We... we have to keep moving."
"Are you nuts? You were attacked, your car is totaled, and you need medical attention now."
"What are you even doing here?" Morgan managed. "What about the zoo?"
"Didn't pan out," Derik said. "They've actually started dismantling their bird setups, and many of their birds have been shipped back to their countries of origin. That's why I'm here, Cross, because I was on my way to meet you at the sanctuary and you weren't answering my calls. I was worried. Apparently, I had good reason to be."
Morgan's head swam. She wanted to keep moving with the investigation, but she couldn't deny that this was a huge mess.
She was hurt, her car was totaled, and she had no idea how to proceed. She thought about Thomas, who had gotten away. He was still out there, and if he had just tried to kill her, who knew what he might do next. "You're right, we need to get to a hospital," Morgan said.
She leaned against Derik, and he wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight as she struggled to walk. It was awkward, but he managed. "I'm sorry about your car," he said. "It's just a car, but this is more serious. I can't believe someone tried to kill you."
"You know it's not the first time," she managed.
"I know." He let out a sigh. "Let's get you to the hospital and get this mess dealt with."
As much as Morgan agreed, a sudden thought struck her like lightning. If it was Thomas who attacked her, or if it had anything to do with him, then she couldn't report it. Because he had Skunk's life in his hands, and if Morgan involved Derik or the FBI, her dog's life could be over.
But now she had to convince Derik of that, without giving away too much.
"I'll go to the hospital," Morgan said, "but I don't want to report what really happened. Not yet."
Derik stopped short. "What do you mean, not yet? You were shot at, and you could have been killed. Stop being so stubborn and let the police do their job."
Morgan clenched her hands into fists, then took a deep breath in an attempt to calm. Now was not the time to get mad. "Like I said, I'll go to the hospital, but I don't want to report the incident. Not yet."
