Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,70

knew was a side effect of the supernatural healing, but otherwise, I doubted I had more than a bruise or two on me. That was going to have a lot of people scratching their heads after I’d been tossed about so violently I’d been declared dead.

But there was no help for it. They knew I was in here, so it wasn’t like I had any hope of sneaking away undetected. Even if I weren’t still trussed up in duct tape. I was just going to have to feign ignorance and rely on the EMTs to believe they’d witnessed a miracle.

It took a while of kicking at the side of the trunk with my bound legs before someone heard me and came to check it out. There was quite a flurry of activity after that. They pried the trunk open to get me out. I wished they’d just grab me and drag me out through the small opening the EMT had crawled through, but I guess they were too worried about my injuries to manhandle me like that. Not surprisingly, I soon found myself on a gurney being rushed toward a waiting ambulance. I decided not to protest the treatment, because I knew no one would believe me if I said I was fine. I did try to protest having my head immobilized, but I couldn’t blame them for thinking I had a head injury considering the position I’d been in when they’d first found me.

I had a couple of minutes to take in the scene around me while the EMTs were fussing around, trying to get me strapped onto the gurney and immobilized. The car I’d been in had done its best impression of an accordion, its trunk and hood crumpled to show there’d been solid impact from both ends before it had skidded into a ditch and ended up on its side. Through the shattered windshield, I saw the deflated airbag drooping from the steering wheel, its white fabric spotted with dark blood. Despite the extent of the damage, it was a pretty good-sized car, and I thought it possible my abductor had survived the crash. More’s the pity.

There was another, smaller car a little farther up the road, and it looked like it was in even worse shape. I didn’t think there was much chance its driver had made it. He or she had probably saved me from a fate worse than death, and I hoped I was wrong about their survival chances.

The ambulance doors closed, cutting off all sight of the wreckage and the flashing lights of an impressive array of emergency vehicles. One of the EMTs gunned the engine of the ambulance, hitting the siren, while the other climbed into the back with me, continuing to try to assess my injuries. I tried to tell the guy I wasn’t that badly hurt, but I wasn’t surprised he didn’t take my word for it. He probably thought I was in shock or delirious or something.

The ride to the hospital didn’t take long, but by the time we got there, there was already a lot of head scratching going on in the back of the ambulance as the EMT failed to find anything wrong with me. I kept repeating that I was okay, except for a little soreness here and there, but he was still sure I had to have some kind of dire injury he had so far missed. I tried to remain calm and patient, knowing he was just doing his job and that there was no reasonable explanation for my condition. I didn’t blame him for being confused. I guess toward the end I was getting a little bit testy despite my best efforts, because he gave me a ferocious glare.

“You are not all right!” he snapped. “You had no pulse when I first checked you.”

I could see why he might find that a cause for concern. “Well, I have one now. And I really want out of this head contraption.”

The siren stopped wailing, and the ambulance came to a stop. The EMT took our arrival at the hospital as an excuse to ignore my request, and I knew I was about to go through the whole rigmarole again, because the doctors and nurses of the ER weren’t going to believe their eyes, either.

SEVENTEEN

I was right about my reception at the emergency room. I once again had the delightful experience of being ignored when I claimed I was all right, and though I understood why,