Time Torn (The Lost Days Book One)

Chapter 1

Pain.

Mind numbing, throbbing pain - The kind that can blind the sightless.

My breath heaves from my chest, an invisible hand wringing around my heart as my ribs spasm and cramp. My head spins, a sharp ringing assaulting my ears, pounding its way from one to the other. The urge to curl up into the fetal position overwhelms me. I have never experienced agony like this before. My fingers act on instinct, attempting to coil themselves into tight fists, only I cannot move them. I can't move anything.

I struggle, trying to wiggle a toe or stretch out my leg but my limbs, once so malleable are now nothing but dead weight. Finally, I have to admit to myself that I'm suffering from something much more than a purpling bruise or a broken bone.

Had some sort of animal attacked me?

A pack of beasts that had chosen to fight over my seemingly dead carcass by ripping my body apart, piece by piece? Because that's what it fucking feels like.

My skin is too tight, made worse by the sting of a heavy saline wind whipping against my wounds. I grit my teeth with the new wave of torture. Even if I could open my eyes. I don't know if I would still want too. I have a terrible feeling that my skin has been flayed off.

Cemented together, my lips are dry and cracked. The inside of my mouth tasting of ash and vinegar. I no longer have the strength to function, much less swallow down the rancid bile. My mom's soft voice comes back to me. Whispering stories of heroines from my homeland - from the girl who'd stumbled for miles, bleeding from a slash across her neck after a serial killer attempted to slit her throat, to the woman who fought and killed the kidnappers who'd shot her and tied her up in her trunk. They'd both found the strength to fight until help came. They'd saved themselves.

I'd been promised heroism in return for my sacrifice, and heroes don't give up. I'll find a way to survive because I want to live. I never wanted to be a sacrifice, to begin with.

The thought gives me the gumption I need to split my lips from one another, whimpering despite my resolve to be stronger.

My eyelids flicker but refuse to open. It is as if they have been super glued shut. If I could move my arms, I'd tear my lashes apart. Even if it means ripping them out. Desperately I struggle. Unable to move. Unable to be the heroine I need to be.

Eventually, I still, concentrating first on my eyes. I can literally feel the pulsing of the swollen and tender flesh around my eyelids. I suck in a shallow breath. Trying not to focus on the furious beating of my pulse as it bounces between my temples, even though the eurythmic beat is the only reason I can be sure I'm still alive.

It gives me hope.

Hope that somehow, I've survived the bomb. I've survived the blinding white light of what came after and it gives me hope that I've found a way to evade death....