Pain shot to every nerve-ending, waking Sandy from oblivion and telling her she was still alive. She was in agony; it was like nothing she had ever felt before. There was a fire blazing somewhere deep in her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Her head throbbed as if she had been hit by a brick. Every part of her body ached. Feeling sick, she tried to swallow but her throat was so dry her tongue felt like a dry rag hanging out the side of her mouth.
Where was she? What the fuck had happened to her?
Too consumed with suffering to make sense of her situation, Sandy tried to think, but her head felt fuzzy. She was lying on her stomach. That much she knew because her face was pressed hard to the ground. Dirt was in her mouth, up her nose. Something gritty and damp was on top of her. She could smell grass, earth. Panicked, it took her only moments to realise she was completely covered, buried under a carpet of leaves and soil.
She started to choke on chunks of blood caught in her throat, making her gag and retch into the ground. Struggling to catch her breath, she was consumed by a series of coughing fits; violent contractions that seemed to vibrate through her whole body. She waited for the spasms to pass, then, slowly, Sandy began to roll onto her side.
She knew she had to move. But each tiny movement was agony and caused more dirt to fall into her mouth and eyes. Sandy brushed at the blanket of soil sprinkled across her face until it was cleared. Slowly she opened one eye, then the other. Her vision was blurred but she realised it was dark. As she tried to lift her head, pain exploded like shards of tiny icicles piercing through her brain. She bit down on her lip, whimpering, as tears streamed down her face.
Crying is not going to help.
Sandy didn’t know how long it took − she was pretty sure she was fading in and out of consciousness − but gradually, fighting off nausea and incessant waves of dizziness, she managed to tilt her head back far enough to look up at the night sky. She could see stars scattered around a dull moon. Treetops swayed above her, tilting shadows back and forth. She listened; she could hear birds and ducks chattering. They sounded close. There was the sound of distant traffic. Where the hell was she? She willed herself to think clearly, prayed for her mind to remember.
But the pain was all-consuming. She just wanted it to stop so she could fight. But it was taking over; dragging her under. Unwillingly, she surrendered to the darkness.
—
The next time Sandy woke she was cold, really cold. She could hardly feel her hands or her feet. Her ribs ached so badly she shifted position, trying to take some weight off. Her head spun. She tried to open her eyes but could only manage one. The other eye felt stuck or maybe it was too swollen for her eyelid to part. It was still night but the moon shone brighter. She had no concept of time or how long she had been lying there. Had it been minutes, hours or days?
Still on her side, she tried to move one leg. It felt like lead. She was suddenly hot, feverish, and the slightest movement caused her skin to break out in a film of perspiration. Or was that blood? She felt damp, as though she’d been swimming.
Sandy started to shiver and shake. Her muscles quivered, tensed, then her whole body began to vibrate. Fear shot like ice through her veins. What was happening? She saw flashes of light shoot across the sky. Her legs kicked out at nothing. She felt her eyes roll back in her head. Her body buckled. Her back arched, causing such excruciating pain it left her without breath. She gasped as her body convulsed. It felt like an earthquake was tearing through her insides.
Then it was over. Sandy’s exhausted body relaxed and the horrific sensations passed.
Fuck.
The thought of that happening again filled her with dread. She willed herself to live. There were those sounds of squawking again. It sounded like geese were only metres away.
She strained to listen; she could hear a bat cry out in distress. Then there was a splash, lots of chirping, and bird noises filled the otherwise silent darkness. Then reality came flooding back to her in a short burst of pain and memory.
She was still in Centennial Park. The man who had killed Bluey had summoned her here and Sandy had been a fool to come. He had probably thought he’d killed her, too. That would have been his intention all along, she now realised.
How stupid she had been to tell him what she knew. Selfish fear for her own existence had put Rowdy and the others in danger. She had to warn them. The Grub now knew his identity and he would be out to get rid of anyone else privy to that knowledge.
Remembering her mobile phone, she slowly edged one hand towards her back pocket. It was gone. There would be no calling for help. For a moment her hopes faded and she felt herself almost give up, but the memory of that spasm, or whatever it was she’d just experienced, sent a surge of adrenaline through her body and kick-started her brain.
If she could manage to drag herself out into the open, away from this cluster of trees she was hidden behind, then, in the daylight, someone would see her. She was sure of it. And although the pain was beyond her worst nightmare, Sandy wanted to live more than ever and the thought of vengeance against the person who had done this to her was the one thing, besides Rowdy, that would keep her going.
Her survival would be the ultimate revenge.
Calling upon every ounce of strength she had, Sandy reached out and found what felt like the root of a tree. She grabbed onto it. Determinedly, inch by slow inch, she hauled herself forward in minute increments, out of the shallow ditch she’d been left to die in. She had no idea how long it took. Her body was almost numb. Her heartbeat was slow. She hoped that didn’t mean it was shutting down. And each time a new wave of convulsions shook her to the core, she stopped, waited for it to pass, and then kept going.
Every part of her was in agony; her lungs burned, her ribs ached, she could hardly stop coughing, she was overwhelmed with thirst, but she didn’t give up.
Sandy managed to drag herself to the duck pond, where she could go no further. She would rest for a while, she decided, have a break and wait for daylight.
Someone would find her. It would be all right.