D’Alene slipped into the still, dark water, quivering. She hoped her trembling wouldn’t betray her hiding place as she sent ripples out like a beacon. Her eyes darted toward every sound as she fought to keep her breathing under control.
In the distance, her pursuer swept his pulse gun everywhere his gaze landed.
“Do you remember your name?” A woman’s voice echoes in my mind.
My eyes open. Fluorescent lights stare back at me from the ceiling as my surroundings begin to register. I am lying on a steel gurney, wearing a dingy set of medical scrubs.
“Nelson. Nelson Duran.” I cock my head at the sound of my own voice. Is that right?
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