Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3) Read Online Free PDF

commander said, stepping out of the house. “Mrs. Norland, I suspect you won’t make nearly the scene that poor Mr. Norland did, will you?”
    Elizabeth looked past the commanding solider into the house, where she saw Roger lying in a pool of blood on the floor. “No!” she screamed, tears falling down her face.
    “I didn’t think so,” he said, smiling at her. He motioned for a pair of men behind him to step forward. “Please handcuff Mrs. Norland and take her to the van.”
    As she was dragged down her driveway, her hands firmly secured at her back, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to see a few of the soldiers removing all of the electronics from the home, as others poured gasoline in and around it before setting it on fire.

Chapter Four
Darkness
    My eyes opened, revealing the same sight I’d grown accustomed to since regaining consciousness two days prior: the recovery room. The same drab, white, sickeningly sterile room that smelled of latex, hand sanitizer, and other substances I recognized by scent, but couldn’t put a name to. I wanted out. Despite the fact that the left side of my body still throbbed with pain, I just couldn’t take being cooped up in bed for a single second longer. I turned my head to face the chair situated in the corner of the room near the foot of the bed, expecting to see either Kara or Ian sitting on its green padded seat, but I was surprised, instead, to see Drew. He was sleeping, his feet propped up on the corner of the hospital bed, gone to the world. If ever I had a chance to escape, it was now.
    Stealing one last look at Drew, I began to sit up, doing my best to ignore the searing, stabbing pain in my left shoulder. It made its way down my arm to the side of my rib cage, which forced me to collapse back down on the bed. After taking a moment to recover, I took a deep breath and willed myself up to a sitting position. An IV was still attached to my arm. This is going to be interesting. Carefully, I pulled the medical tape away from the catheter and the IV tube, inspecting the insertion site in my left arm. A sickness crept over me. I could handle the sight of blood, if it wasn’t my own. But if I had to choose between a little nausea and freedom, I would grit my teeth and bear it.
    I gripped the catheter between my fingers, closed my eyes, mentally counted to three, and pulled it out of my arm, suppressing a squeal in the process. Within seconds after the removal of the IV, a warm wetness trickled down my arm. Even knowing what it was, I still couldn’t help but look down to see the blood trickling from the hole in my vein. With the bile rising from the pit of my stomach, I quickly wrapped a portion of my blanket around my arm. Next to Drew stood a cabinet containing a sink and a set of drawers. One of the drawers, in theory, had to contain a dressing of sorts—I hoped. In even more pain, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and allowed my feet to touch the cold linoleum as though its touch against my skin would somehow energize me, replenishing what had been drained from my body.
    Slowly, I stood up, quickly discovering how weakened my legs had become. My body crumpled over, and it took all the energy I could muster to grab onto the bed to prevent myself from collapsing to the floor. I peeked back up at Drew, fully expecting to see him awake and gaping at me, only to be pleasantly surprised again by the snore that escaped his lips.
    Okay, let’s try this again . Tightening my grip on the bed, I pulled myself up, inch by inch, to a standing position, and allowed my body time to adjust to my new stance. My legs were stiff, painful, but bearable in relation to the rest of my body. And it struck me then that I could now truly say that I know what people mean when they say they feel as though they’ve been run over by a truck. Not only did I feel like I’d been run over, but also backed over repeatedly, spat on, lit on fire, and beaten with a baseball bat. How I was still