Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One) by J. T. Bishop

bedroom, thinking she had somehow managed to get home, get into bed, and sleep off whatever miserable bug she’d contracted. A trickle of fear coursed through her when she did not recognize where she was convalescing. It was a bedroom, but it wasn’t hers.
    The fear gave her strength, and she kicked off the remaining covers. She tried to sit up but moaned again when she could barely move, and any movement she did make managed only to increase the pain in her head. She let herself fall back into a horizontal position as she tried to assess the situation. Where the hell was she? There must be a reason she was here. She tried to relax and just think for a moment. She’d left lunch, and she’d been walking home. She’d stopped. Had she stopped? No. Her eyes flew wide open at the memory. A man. He’d tried to help her on the street. But he’d grabbed her instead and pulled her toward a car.
    Now she did sit up, despite her body’s protests. She looked around the room, attempting to focus on her surroundings. She tried not to panic, although her heart clearly ignored her. She recognized nothing, and no one appeared to be around. Where was she?
    She swung her legs around and off the bed. If she could find a phone, she could call for help. But she didn’t see one. She wondered if she should yell or keep quiet when she finally heard noises from another part of the house. She listened, now really feeling afraid. It was two men. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. She had no idea what to do or where to go. She didn’t know what time of day it was, and the curtains were pulled closed. She looked at the curtains. Windows. She could get out a window. If she’d been kidnapped, she could go to a neighboring house and get help.
    She steadied herself for a moment before attempting to stand. Her heart knocked and her head ached, but the adrenaline running through her gave her added strength. She stood up and held on to the nightstand as a dizzy spell passed. She took a deep lungful of air to calm down. When she felt balanced enough, she took a few steps toward the windows. She shook with a combination of fear and illness, but she steadied herself as she reached for the curtains. Another wave of dizziness hit her at the same time as a lancing pain tore through her midsection. The force of it caused her to unintentionally cry out. Her precarious balance deserted her, and she reached to find something to stop her fall but could only grab at the curtain. The curtain ripped as it took her weight, and the rod dislodged and hit the floor hard. All she could do at that point was prevent her head from hitting the floor. She succeeded at that, at least. She hit the ground with her side taking the brunt of the force, and she lay still and curled inward as the lance of pain worked its way through her torso and then was gone as fast as it came.
    Running footsteps echoed from the hall. They’d heard. She resigned herself to her fate. There was nowhere for her to go, and worse, she had no strength to get there.
    “Sarah.” She heard her name called. The footsteps grew loud as they entered the room.
    “Stay away from me.” She tried to move away but didn’t get far. She closed her eyes again because the indirect light from the unobstructed window felt blinding to her.
    “Sarah, are you okay?” She felt a hand on her shoulder.
    “Leave me alone. Don’t touch me.” The strong voice she’d hoped to use came out more as a whimper.
    “Sherlock, she doesn’t know where she is. Give her some space.” It was the second man’s voice. The voice was strong, but she detected no malice in it.
    “Sarah, can you hear me? It’s Ramsey. You’re safe.”
    The mention of his name and his last two words managed to penetrate her frozen state. She struggled to open her eyes, despite the light, to look at him.
    He looked down at her with his own combination of fear and anxiety. He didn’t look too great either, in her opinion. “Where am