Page 62 of Rescuing Tobias

Then she had one less thing to fight for.

No.

Got to fight for my baby.

That was the last thought she had before another wave of unconsciousness crashed over her, pulling her under and blanketing her in heavy blackness that there was no fighting through.

It could have been minutes, could have been hours later that she swam back to the surface. There was no way to tell. Just like she couldn’t get her eyes to open enough to figure out where she was. Every time she tried to open them, a shaft of pain stabbed between her temples, and she’d give in and keep them closed.

Not something she could keep doing indefinitely.

If she was going to stand even a chance of escaping, or at the very least keeping herself alive until Tobias could come for her, then she needed information. As much of it as she could gather. Intel was power, and she was going to wield whatever of it she could manage, even if it wasn't much.

So opening her eyes was number one, and something she couldn’t put off any longer. She had no idea how long it would be until another wave of unconsciousness came. Best to make the most of the time she had awake while it was here.

Lifting her eyelids a crack was all she could do, but it was better than nothing. Especially when the pain was a little less this time, a little easier to deal with. After forcing herself to keep her eyes open while she counted to ten, she then allowed them to fall closed again. Dragging in several deep breaths, she did her best to manage the pain, tuck it away someplace where it wouldn't interfere with what she had to do.

Survival was her only goal now.

The only thing she had to focus on.

The only thing that mattered.

Everything else she was going to have to suck up. Like dealing with the pain, the dizziness, and the nausea.

Having given herself a little time to recover, she opened her eyes again. This time the pain was better again, and she was able to open them enough to see and take in her surroundings.

She found herself lying on a bed, other beds around hers, like a dormitory. Most of the beds were occupied, including the one beside hers. There was a young woman lying on it, curled up in a ball, her eyes closed, but Isabella wasn't sure if she was asleep, awake, or unconscious.

Testing her limbs, whether she could move them or not, would give her the critical answers she needed about what her future held.

If they were bound to the bed, she was in an infirmary, there as a patient.

If they weren't, she was in a dorm like the one she’d been kept in before, there as a nurse.

It was hard to know which was better, since neither provided her much protection. While there as a nurse meant she wasn't facing a quick death as her organs were harvested one by one, being there as a patient would mean tests. Tests would mean they’d find out she was pregnant, which likely meant they’d want to take her baby’s organs as well.

In the end, both likely afforded her time to try to escape, or to pray that Prey found her, but at least if she was there as a nurse she’d have a little more freedom. Not much, but enough that she’d find a way to use it to her advantage.

She had to.

For her baby.

With her head throbbing, there was still a bit of a disconnect between it and the rest of her body. She felt heavy, like someone had encased her limbs in concrete, but she ignored the feeling, concentrating all her energy on trying to lift her left arm.

It worked.

Slow going though it was, she didn't let her attention waver and soon her hand was held above her face.

Relief hit, the idea of being bound gave her a sick sense of claustrophobia.

Letting her hand drop back to the mattress, her strength waning, Isabella gritted her teeth and clung to consciousness with everything that she had. Time was already running out for her and her baby, even if she was there as a nurse and they wouldn't likely do any blood tests, it didn't mean that they wouldn't find out about her pregnancy. In a few short months she’d begin to show, and once that happened, she’d find herself tied to a hospital bed, no doubt about it.

Turning her head slightly so she was looking at the woman on the bed beside her, she called out.

Or at least she tried to.

All that came out was a weak croak.

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