Emmalee wakes with a startled gasp.
Her mouth is full of sand, and it takes a moment for her to realize she’s on a beach. The cold water of a wave kisses the toes on her feet, and she jerks instinctively, a feeling of relief washing over her as she realizes she hasn’t been paralyzed. Whatever was in the tiny dart was only meant to knock her out temporarily.
But who would do that? Is this a part of her training? What kind of sick game has she signed up for?
She doesn’t allow herself to dwell on this for long. Her instincts kick in, and she leaps to her feet, already planning her escape.
First, she’ll find out where she is.
Then, she’ll find a mark, somebody she can use to take on another identity and leave this crazy situation she got herself in. The agency will probably find her again, but she might get away with a few days (or maybe weeks) without being detected. If she plays her cards right, that is. At least now she knows what she’s up against.
And then there’s her father…
It’s possible he’s still alive. She’s left him in worse states before, assumed of a sure death, and look where that got her. Wherever she found her escape, she’d have to keep a lookout for him too.
From her stance on the beach, she makes a slow circle, taking in her surroundings. It’s too dark to see anything clearly, but it looks like there are lights in the distance. Lights mean electricity. Electricity means civilization.
She starts heading that direction, hoping against all odds, she’ll find her freedom again.
