The Drowning Man by Sara Vinduska Read Free Book Online Page A

enough. Bald head, big glasses, kind eyes. He looked around the small white room, looked down at his own trembling hands. “I'm alive,” he whispered. He felt a wave of humor bordering on insanity roll through him and fought back laughter he didn't think he'd be able to stop. “I'm really alive.”
    “You're really alive,” the doctor said.
    “Huh,” Trent said.
    “You seem to know your name. Do you know what year it is?”
    “Yes, doctor,” Trent said sarcastically. “I know what year it is, who the president is, and my address and phone number too.” He tapped the side of his head. “All still right here.”
    The doctor grunted and flipped through a chart. His chart. Trent couldn’t help but wonder what was written on the pages inside. Dr. Hender, the nametag on the white coat read, took a long time reading it, whatever it said.
    The doctor looked up and smiled at him. The world tilted. Was what he saw real or a dream? It was like watching a movie. Dr. Hender took his stethoscope out of the pocket in his white jacket and listened to Trent’s heartbeat and breathing. A blood pressure cuff was placed on his left arm. A light was shone into his eyes. The doctor made more notes on the chart then looked up.
    “Well, your pulse and blood pressure are almost back to normal. You had pneumonia, but that's cleared up now. Your pupils, reflexes, and lungs check out. Your lungs and throat may feel a little irritated from the chemicals in the water and the pneumonia. You may still have some pain from your nose and two ribs being broken. I’d like to keep you at least one more night, get you eating solid food again, make sure your lungs stay clear. How does that sound? You ready to get the hell out of here?”
    Trent tried a smile. It felt awkward. Almost as awkward as talking. “What day is it?” he asked hoarsely.
    “Tuesday, May 17 th .”
    Trent scowled then closed his eyes and nodded. He'd lost close to two months. His hands fisted in rage and frustration.
    “Your brother should be back later tonight and that pretty cop is going to want to talk to you when you're up to it.”
    His eyes snapped open. “No cops. Not now. I can't.”
    “Fair enough. They have to go through me first and I don't think you'll be ready until tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
    Trent relaxed and forced another smile. “Thanks doc.”
    “No problem. I do need you to do a favor for me though. I want you to talk to a friend of mine before you leave here.”
    “I don't need a shrink to tell me the crazy bitch fucked with my head.”
    “Trent,” Doctor Hender said quietly. “Your long term memory seems fine. But you've been here for a week. Your brother's been here every afternoon and evening. The guys from your firehouse were here. Do you remember anything at all from the past seven days?”
    Trent shifted slightly on the bed. He tried. The last thing he remembered was the rage and frustration that Caroline wouldn't just let him go, then the female cop's face looking down at him. After that, everything was a blank. No matter how hard he concentrated, there was just nothing there. “Was I in a coma?”
    The doctor shook his head. “You were awake. You sat up. You didn't acknowledge anyone, didn't say one word.” He saw his patient pale slightly at the words. “The events of the past few months severely traumatized you.”
    “I just need to forget about it and move on.”
    “Okay, but if that doesn't work, you call me and I'll set you up with someone.”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    Goddamn, Trent thought once he was alone again. He hadn't really thought he'd make it out of that hell house alive. Yes, he was incredibly weak, but overall his body was in good working order. He tested his memory again. Other than the recent black hole of the past week, everything was there – who he was, what he did, where he lived, the people he knew.
    He should be elated, grateful to be alive and in one piece. Instead, all he felt was numb. Like his