It came from above her. From the roof. She glanced up and got the shock of this particular lifetime.
There was a bat hanging from the roof.
A bat. A bat.
A huge bat. Upside down. Its leathery black wings were wrapped around it and its small red eyes shone at her with reflected light.
Wild thoughts tumbled through Hannah's mind, all in a fraction of an instant. Maybe it's a decoration...
no, idiot, it's alive. Maybe it's somebody to guard me. God, maybe it's Thierry....
But all the while, she knew. And when the instant of paralysis passed and she could command her body again, she sucked in a deep breath to scream an alarm.
She never got the chance to make a sound. With a noise like an umbrella opening, the bat unfolded its wings suddenly, displaying an amazingly large span of black membrane.
At the same moment something like sheet lightning seemed to hit Hannah, a blinding surge of pure mental energy. She saw stars, and then everything faded to darkness.
Something hurt.
My head, Hannah thought slowly. And my back. In fact, she hurt all over. And she was blind-or she had her eyes shut. She tried to open them and nothing changed. She could feel herself blinking, but she could only see one thing. Blackness. Utter, complete blackness. She realized then that she'd never seen real darkness before. In her bedroom at night there was always some diffused light showing at the top of her curtains. Even outdoors there was always moonlight or starlight, or if it were cloudy, the reflection of human lights, however faint.
This was different. This was solid darkness. Hannah imagined she could feel it pressing against her face, weighing down on her body. And no matter how wide she opened her eyes or how fixedly she stared, she couldn't see even the slightest glimmer breaking it.
I will not panic, she told herself.
But it was hard. She was fighting an instinctive fear, hardwired into the brain since before the Stone Age.
All humans panicked in complete blackness.
Just breathe, she told herself firmly. Breathe. Okay. Now. You've got to get out of here. First things first.
Are you hurt?
She couldn't tell. She had to shut her eyes in order to sense her own body. As she did, she realized that she was sitting up, instinctively huddling into herself to keep safe from the darkness.
Okay. I don't think you're hurt. Let's try standing up. Very slowly.
That was when the real shock came.
She couldn't stand up.
She couldn't.
She could move her arms and even her legs. But when she tried to lift her body, even to shift position slightly, something bit into her waist, keeping her immobile.
With a crawling feeling of horror, Hannah put her hands to her waist and felt the rough texture of rope.
I'm tied. I'm tied....
There was something hard against her back. A tree? Her hands flew to feel it. No, not a tree-too regular. Tall, but squarish. A post of some kind.
The rope seemed to be wound many times around her waist, tightly enough that it constricted her breathing a little. It bound her securely to the post. And then it fastened above or far behind her somewhere-she couldn't find any knots with her fingers.
It felt like very strong, very sturdy rope. Hannah knew without question that she wasn't going to be able to wiggle out of it or untie it.
The post seemed very sturdy, too. The ground under Hannah was dirt and rock.
I'm alone, she thought slowly. She could hear her own gasping breath. I'm all alone... and I'm tied here in the dark. I can't move. I can't get away.
Maya put me here. She left me to die all alone in the dark.
For a while, then, Hannah simply lost control. She screamed for help and heard her voice echo oddly.
She pulled and twisted at the rope with her fingers until her fingertips were raw. She threw her whole body from one side to the other, trying to loosen the rope or the post, until the pain in her waist made her stop. And finally she gave in to the galloping fear inside her and sobbed out loud.
She had never, ever, felt so desolate and alone.
In the end, though, she cried herself out. And when she'd gasped to a stop, she found that she could think a little.
Listen, girl. You've got to get a grip. You've got to help yourself, because there's nobody else to do it.
It wasn't the cool wind voice or even the crystal voice-because they were both just part of her now. It was Hannah's own mental voice. She had accepted all her past selves and their experiences, and in return she felt she could call on at least some of their wisdom.
Okay, she thought grimly. No more crying. Think. What can you tell about your situation?
I'm not out in the open. I know because there's no light at all and because of the way my voice echoed.
I'm in a big... room or something. It's got a high ceiling. And the floor is rock.
Good. Okay, do you hear anything else?
Hannah listened. It was hard to concentrate on the silence around her-it made her own breathing and heartbeat seem terrifyingly loud. She could feel her nerves stretch and fray... but she held on, ignoring her own noises and trying to reach out into the darkness with her ears.
Then she heard it. Very far away, a sound like a faucet dripping slowly.
What the hell? I'm in a big black room with a rock floor and a leaky faucet.
Shut up. Keep concentrating. What do you smell?
Hannah sniffed. That didn't work, so she took long breaths through her nose, ignoring the pain as her midsection pressed against the rope.
It's musty in here. Dank. It smells damp and cold.
In fact, it was very cold. Her panic had kept her warm before, but now she realized that her fingers were icy and her arms and legs were stiff.
Okay, so what have we got? I'm in a big black refrigerated room with a high ceiling and a stone floor.
And it's musty and damp.