Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(72)
I had to get out of there.
I just had to work out how.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DESPITE MY resolution to flee custody in the hospital, it wasn’t quite so easy to come up with a plan. My body ached from the exertion of releasing the sunbird and the burns that covered my shoulders made it difficult to move.
In the end, I’d been lucky. The gasoline had flashed over most of my skin as the flames had left me, providing a layer of protection. I had first-degree burns across most of my body, which ached and itched but wouldn’t cause lasting damage. In a few places, mostly where I’d landed when I’d fallen, the burns were deeper but the doctors seemed to think there would be minimal scarring, and I was healing well—with the exception of the “infection” causing my temperature to spike out of control. It hurt my head to concentrate for any length of time, and I was only barely able to breathe unassisted.
By the end of the day, all I’d been able to do was catalog the difficulties I’d face. In order to leave, I had to get my body to respond quickly enough to flee. I’d need to remove not only the wires and tubes, which beeped and hissed in rhythm with my body, but also the handcuffs that shackled my right hand to the side of the hospital bed, and finally, evade at least two police officers that I’d learned were stationed outside my door. There was also every possibility that at least one of my guards was an associate of the Rain. It was an almost impossible task, but staying would be infinitely worse.
Realizing that my best chance of leaving would be to take advantage of the darkness, I decided to run that night. Every time a nurse or doctor came on their rounds, I pretended to sleep but paid close attention to their actions. I tried to glean as much information about where I was in the hospital, and the hospital layout, as I could from the snippets of the conversations that I could hear.
As soon as I deemed the time was right, I ripped a piece of material from the bottom of my hospital gown. Then I forced all of my remaining strength into my fingertips, desperate to get enough heat to bend the handcuffs so that I could break free. I concentrated hard, ignoring the pains in my head and the agony of the heat rushing across the still recovering skin of my shoulders.
Breathing deeply, I pushed all of my energy into generating the heat and pressed my left hand over the handcuffs holding me to the bed. Instantly, the heat in the metal bit into my skin. My teeth sunk into my lower lip in an effort to stop myself from crying out. The heart monitor picked up its pace, the slow steady beep building to an almost constant screech. It wouldn’t be long before that set off alarms at some nurses’ station, if it hadn’t already.
I had to work quickly.
The metal twisted under the heat of my hand, but the intensity of my focus quickly drained all of my energy. Just when I thought the cuff was almost off, the heat in my hand dissipated. Redoubling my efforts, I twisted my fingers around the heated metal, doing the best I could to ignore the screaming agony of my wrist where the hot steel pressed against my flesh. With my teeth buried so deeply in my bottom lip that I was drawing blood, I yanked at the metal as I pulled at my right arm, slowly working the twisted mess over my hand.
As soon as I’d managed to pull my hand free, I set about ripping the wires and medical paraphernalia off of my body. I pulled at the tube that the nurses had said was feeding me. As it shifted, an uncomfortable sensation built in the back of my throat. With each tug, I gagged and retched. My throat ached and my nose burned; the sickening smell of plastic and vomit twisted my stomach.
My unsteady limbs were difficult to control. It left me unable to move as fast as I would’ve liked. My wrist throbbed harder as the burned skin protested the continued use of my hand. I grabbed the now shrieking heart monitor and, with shaky legs, walked to the window. On the other side of the glass, there was a small ledge that would have been just wide enough for me to climb onto in order to make my way around the building. The escape path seemed almost too easy, and my instincts insisted I avoid it.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment as I took a step backward and hurled the heart monitor through the glass. The moment it was free of my hold, I dropped the scrap of material I’d ripped from my gown near the shattered window.
The sound would no doubt draw the attention of the guards outside, if the heart monitor alarm hadn’t already alerted everyone nearby.
I dove in the other direction, scrambling for the bathroom. Ignoring the protests from my aching wrist and still recovering body, I dropped to my knees when the door to my hospital room opened. I slid through the bathroom door and hid behind it.
Taking a moment to catch my breath, I waited.
The smashed window and scrap of material would only fool the guards for a moment. There was no way I could have escaped through the window and disappeared from sight so quickly.
While I waited, I scanned the area for anything I could use as a weapon.
“She’s not out there,” a voice called. “Search the room.”
Barely a minute had passed since I’d smashed the window and although I still wasn’t steady on my feet, there was only one way I could possibly escape. Waiting until I could see the shadow of a guard stretching across on the bathroom floor, I fisted my hands in the shower curtain.
I kicked open the door in front of me. When it swing wildly at the guard, I charged. My fingers held tight to the shower curtain, ripping it off its rail as I went. I wrapped the two ends of the plastic around his head and torso before forcing heat into my hands to fuse the plastic.