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Rachel opened her eyes and realized it hadn't been a dream. She really was in a hospital. She looked out the window. The sun was up and she saw mountains, but they didn't look right.
"Well, good morning. How are you feeling?"
A young nurse stood next to her bed. She reminded her of Alice.
"I'm not sure," said Rachel. "It's kind of hard to move, especially with this sling, and I'm sore all over. So what happened?"
"You were in an accident. The doctor will be here soon, and he can tell you more."
"So how long have I been here?"
"They brought you in on Sunday."
"Sunday?" Rachel tried to put the pieces together. Craig kidnapped her on Saturday night. She remembered the rope, and how she tried to strangle him, but she didn't know what happened afterwards, or how she ended up in the hospital.
"What time on Sunday?" she asked.
"I'm not really sure. I was off on Sunday. The doctor will fill you in, but for now, I need to take your temperature and check your blood pressure."
Rachel wanted to know where Craig was. "Was anyone with me when I was brought in? Have I had any visitors?"
"You were brought here by a medevac helicopter, so the only people with you would have been the nurse and a paramedic, and so far as I know, you've not had any visitors. Now, if you'll please be still, I need to check your vitals."
Rachel held her tongue as the nurse did her job. Once she finished, she made some notes on her tablet.
"We have you down as a Jane Doe. Do you remember your name?"
"It's Rachel. Rachel Bennett."
The nurse gave her a smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Rachel. Is there anyone we can call for you?"
"Last night sometime told me we're in Albuquerque. Is that right?"
"Yes, that's right. We're in Albuquerque."
"Then I need you to call my father. His name is Al. Alfred Matheson. He has a custom paint shop for motorcycles. I'd give you the number, but it's on my phone, and I don't seem to have my phone with me."
"Not a problem, Rachel. We can look him up."
The nurse stepped away. A few minutes later a man wearing a white coat entered. He greeted her with a warm smile and extended his hand.
"So, Rachel, we finally get to meet in person. I'm Harold Collins. I'm an orthopedic surgeon, and I'm in charge of your case."
Rachel extended her left hand. It felt awkward. "Nice meeting you. So, what happened, and how did I end up in Albuquerque?"
"Well, you ended up here after you were flown in by helicopter, and you were brought here because we have a trauma center. And you, young lady, are our miracle patient."
"Really? How so?"
He pulled a stool up next to her bed and took his seat. "You were found by the side of the road early Sunday morning by a couple of college students. It was about twenty miles south of Silver City, and you either fell out, or you were pushed out, of a moving vehicle and were apparently left for dead."
"Was there a red Dodge Ram pickup anywhere around? I don't remember how I got out of it."
"Not that I'm aware of. You'll have to talk to the police about that."
"The police?"
"Yes. They're investigating your case, and, now that you're awake, I'm sure someone will be here soon to talk to you."
Rachel remembered the state trooper who handed her back to Craig. "I'm not sure I want to talk to them."
"Why not?"
"I have my reasons. My father is on his way. I'll talk to him, and then he can talk to the police. So, what happened to me?"
"You were brought into the trauma center. You were wearing a blue dress. There was a rope tied around your left wrist, you were barefoot, and your undergarments were missing. They examined you, and, thankfully, they've determined that you hadn't been raped."
"No, I hadn't. He started to, but then he got interrupted, and after that I apparently escaped. I just need to make sure he won't find me here."
"Don't worry. Hospital security is keeping a close watch on you. Other than your father, no other visitors will have access to you, other than the police, without your approval."
Rachel felt relieved. She was finally out of danger. A tear rolled down her cheek. "So, what happened to me? I'm hurting all over."
"I'm not surprised. You landed on your right side when you fell, and you have several broken bones. Your wrist and shoulder are both fractured, but we've set both. They'll heal on their own over the next few months, and you'll be doing a lot of physical therapy, starting soon."
"I will?"
He patted her good shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't give you anything you can't handle. You also have three broken teeth."
"Yes, I know."
"I'm not a dentist, and if you don't have one here we'll be happy to refer you to one. You'll probably need some crowns. You also have a few cracked ribs, and hairline fractures on your cheek and upper pelvis. You have a lot of cuts and bruises too, and you may have noticed that your right cheek is bandaged."
She reached over and felt a large bandage. "So, what happened?"
"You had some lacerations on your cheek. We've closed them up with butterfly bandages."
"Will my face be scarred?"
"Hopefully not. Once we remove the bandages, we'll give you some ointment to help prevent scarring. You also have a black eye. It looks worse than it really is, and it'll heal in time. We will, however, be running some tests to see if it's affected your vision. You also have some pretty big contusions on your chest and arms. They may look scary, but they too will heal on their own over the next few weeks. Now, would you like to know why you're our miracle patient?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"You're our miracle patient because in spite of everything, you have no sign of brain swelling or any other internal injuries, other than a bruised kidney. You were lucky indeed."
"I guess so," said Rachel. "So, am I going to be okay?"
"I think so. You should be pretty much back to normal in about four to six months. However, there is one other thing you need to know about."
Rachel's chest tightened. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you've had a miscarriage. They discovered it while they were doing the rape exam. You were about four weeks along. They removed the fetal tissue, and, once you're back on your feet, you should be able to have other children without any complications."
Rachel was in shock. "Are you sure I didn't just start my period? I wasn't pregnant."
He patted her hand. "No, Rachel, you were pregnant. The blood work proves it." He pulled up her chart on his tablet. "You were only in your fourth week of pregnancy, so you might not have experienced enough symptoms to notice. My wife never suspected a thing with any of her pregnancies until she was about ten weeks along. I'm very sorry for your loss, but don't worry, you can still have other children."
Rachel thought it over and wondered if it could have been the reason why her stomach had been so upset lately. She thought it had been all the stress from the wedding.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around this."
He squeezed her good shoulder. "It's okay. You've been through quite an ordeal, but now it's over. Whoever did this to you isn't here, and we're going to get you well again."
"Before you go, can I ask you one other question?"
"Of course."
"Was I in a coma? I don't remember much of anything between Saturday night and early this morning."
"No, you were never in a medically induced coma. As I said, you had no brain swelling. However, you were in surgery for much of the day on Sunday, and we had you on some pretty potent pain medication for a couple of days, so you may not remember when you were awake, but we've now changed your medication. You'll be awake more often, but you'll still tire easily, and you'll be taking a lot of naps. Your body has had a major shock. You'll need to rest so you can heal."
The doctor stepped out. Rachel tried to make herself comfortable, and she soon drifted off. She woke up about an hour later, wondering what had happened to Al. The nurse came back to once again check her vitals. As she was leaving another man stepped in. He wore blue jeans and a leather vest, and his long, white hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He froze in his tracks as soon as he saw her.
"Oh my god! It really is you."
"Al?"
He wrapped his arms around her, being careful not to disturb her injured shoulder. She felt his body shaking as she cried along with him. His voice choked with emotion when he finally spoke.
"They told us you were dead. We thought we'd lost you."
"I escaped, but I don't know how. I can't remember anything between late Saturday night and early this morning. I kept trying to wake up, but I couldn't."
Al stepped back to take a closer look. "My god. What did he do to you?"
"Apparently I fell out of his truck. I don't know if he pushed me, or I fell out. I don't remember." Rachel looked him up and down and smiled. "I haven't looked at myself in a mirror, and I'm not sure I want to. I probably look like hell right now, but look at you. You look just like I remember, except your hair is white instead of blond, and I don't recall the wire glasses."
"They're new, and I'm not here to discuss my looks. I want to know what the hell happened."
"Craig Walker. It was Craig Walker. They need to hunt the son of a bitch down and put him out of his misery once and for all. Problem is, I can't trust the cops either."
Al squeezed her hand and looked her in the eye. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. Craig Walker is dead. He'll never hurt you again."
Rachel thought it over for a moment and shook her head. "No. It's a trick. It has to be. I couldn't possibly be that lucky."
"Hey, I'm your father, and I'm not going to lie to you. I never have, and I never will. Craig Walker was killed the day before yesterday. The cops caught up with him in Flagstaff. They tried to pull him over, but he gave chase, so they set up a roadblock outside of town. He ended up crashing into the back of a tanker truck. It exploded, and he burned to death. They found what was left of your blue shoes, along with a large knife. There was also a shovel in the back of his truck, with dirt on the blade. It's why we thought you were dead."
"Wow." Rachel stopped to take it all in. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "He said he was going to kill me, and I knew he meant it. And he had a knife all right. He pulled it on me in the hotel parking lot, and when he stuck it against my ribs I knew he meant business. I thought if I went along with him, I could somehow convince him to let me go. Instead, he drove me into New Mexico. No, he didn't rape me, but he made it pretty clear that was his intention, and he said he'd kill me once he was through with me. I want to see the autopsy report, a copy of the death certificate, and a photo of his dead corpse. I need proof that he really is dead."
"Not a problem." A middle-aged woman in a business suit stepped into the room. "I'll be happy to bring it all to you as soon as I can."
Rachel tensed up. "So who are you?"
"It's okay, Rachel," said Al. "Her name is Leona Trent. She's with the Albuquerque police and she drove all the way out to my home to bring me here. Sherry and I live north of Albuquerque. It's why it took so long for me to get here." He turned his attention to the detective.
"I need to call my wife. I think she may have Rachel's mother's phone number. I don't have it with me."
"It's okay. I just got off the phone with Detective Anderson with the Tucson police. They've reopened the case, and he said he would set up a meeting with her family within the hour."
"Good to know, but I'm still going to step out for a few minutes to call my wife." Al looked at Rachel. "I'll just be around the corner. If you need anything have someone come get me." He kissed her on the forehead and hurried outside.