Tortured Journey

By Teresa Meeks

A person’s identity is defined by their memories, experiences, and actions.
For Debbie Smith, who isn’t your normal Jane Doe, memories are a luxury. Life experiences don’t exist, and her actions are apparent by the Tortured Journey she must endure to rebuild herself physically and emotionally.
Struggling to put the pieces together of why someone tried to kill her and why she felt her next move was being calculated by her enemy, Debbie leaves the only haven she knows with pennies in her pocket to save the people she has grown to love.
Debbie’s past and future collide and she must find the courage to finish what was started. Can she resume the life that she had or begin anew?
Will Debbie find her assailant before he finds her?
Will Debbie learn why she can shoot a gun better than an assassin?
Will Debbie learn to trust anyone again?
Tortured Journey will answer all these questions and more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Meeks
• Release date: Sep 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466104174

Teresa Meeks

Thank you to all my readers.I've been sharing my stories for over 5 years. I'm awed every month when I see people reading my books from locations as far away as the Netherlands, Venezuela, and Australia. These are places I would love to see one day and people are enjoying the mystery of my characters.For those avid followers, I have the sequel to Tortured Journey coming soon. Stay tuned for Tortured Tides. This is my favorite series of books. I’m already working on my next page turner and it will be the 3rd in the “Tortured” series. I hope to have the next adventure out in 2016.I hope you enjoy reading the books because I’ve enjoyed writing them.

Book preview

Tortured Journey

Published by Teresa Meeks at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Teresa Meeks

Cover Design and Art by Narvin Meeks

Edited by Donna Gerard & Narvin Meeks

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Chapter 1

The haze began to lift as the pain slowly consumed my body. Pain traveled up my body starting at my toes and moved slowly to my head. I couldn’t quite open my eyes. My eyelids were so heavy. Everything seemed amplified as I could hear beeps of machines, the rustling of papers, and someone's clothing slowly swishing as they made their way around the room. The noises that a normal person would dismiss brought me out of my tormented slumber. I wasn’t able to identify why things were out of place. I wasn’t able to move my arms, one of my legs, or my head. They seemed weighed down and felt very heavy. As my eyes slowly opened the light was overwhelming. The brightness of the room and the white of the walls and furnishings hurt my eyes. Everything was so bright that things seemed to glow. Why wasn’t I able to move my head or arms? Slowly swishing the only leg that would move I got the attention of my visitor. Coming into view was a black woman whose clothes almost blended with her background. If not for her bright smile and the whites of her eyes I don't think she could be seen at night. She had a very pretty face with gentle eyes and a smile just beneath surface. She stood at average height and had a slender figure. The woman took my fingers as though to comfort me and she spoke very quietly.

Well, Missus, you finally decided to wake up and join the land of the livin’. I’d better be gettin’ Dr. Martin. He’s been very anxious for ya to wake up. As the nurse walked away, I wanted so much to lift my arm or say something to stop her. But all I managed was a moan and by that time the nurse was out the door. She spoke in a funny way. It was with an accent I couldn’t identify.

I was beginning to panic as the doctor came through the door and approached the bed. His badge read Dr. Jonathan Martin, MD, from St. Lukes Hospital, Miami. Dr. Martin couldn’t have been out of puberty very long. He wore square, wire-rimmed glasses and he had short red hair. It was very stylish but it looked like he was trying to look older with a more mature cut. He must have worked weeks to grow the semi-five o’clock shadow he was sporting. He stood about 5’5" with a thin build. His green eyes stood out against his red hair and fair complexion. His white doctor’s coat was bleached and starched stiff. It looked like he took his position very seriously.

Well young lady, you are very fortunate. Your guardian angel was with you three weeks ago. Dr. Martin said as he walked closer to the bedside.

My answer came out as a mumble which was foreign to my own ears. Becoming more frightened and frustrated, I started swishing my leg more frantically.

Hold on there. You can’t get agitated like that. I know that you are having problems speaking and moving. As he opened my chart he started writing something down while checking his watch. Closing the chart he placed it back on the countertop of the cabinets that were against the wall. Until we get the bandages and casts off your face, neck, and arms we will use the old knock once for yes and twice for no method, but you will use your foot. Do you understand? Exposing my foot I noticed a lead coming from my big toe and going to the machines making all of the noises. That is the O2 meter to monitor your oxygen. Now, use the method I explained by nodding your foot. Okay? I nodded once. Before we start, are you in any pain? I nodded once. How bad is your pain? One nod is very little and ten is excruciating. I nodded four times. After we finish I will have Lanora, your nurse, give you a little morphine.

Do you know where you are? I immediately looked at his badge and nodded once. Noticing the direction of my eyes Dr. Martin looked down and lifted his badge. Well that was a give away, wasn’t it? Let’s try again. Do you know why or what happened to you to bring you to St. Luke’s? I nodded twice – no.

Do you know your name? Dr. Martin looked at my foot and waited. After about ten seconds his gaze returned to my eyes. It’s alright to admit that you don’t remember. You’ve experienced a lot of trauma the last few weeks. He repeated the question and waited. After a few seconds, I nodded twice.

Okay, do you know where you live? Again two nods. Do you know what year it is? As I slowly moved my foot to say yes, I wondered how I was going to answer.

Dr. Martin read my mind and starting providing me with years. Is it 2008? I indicated no. Is it 2012? Again, no. 2011 that got one nod to say yes.

Good job. How about, do you know who is president? Again I indicated that I did. This was getting tedious, why can’t I speak.

George W. Bush? No Barack Obama. Yes

Okay so that tells me that it is the more personal and recent information you are missing from your memory bank. As he scribbled in my chart he continued. Do you know if you have any family? That received a pause and then a no.

Well, we don’t know your name and neither do you. I’m not much on the ‘Jane Doe’ stereotype but we need to call you something. For the time being will Debbie Smith work for you? Dr. Martin looked up from his writing and waited for some signal from me. He must be a very patient person because it seemed as though time stood still. Finally I confirmed.

Debbie, don’t get discouraged. Your memory could return very quickly, but yet again, it could take a little time. Dr. Martin came back around to my bedside and listened to my chest and looked into my eyes. I kept thinking to myself, this has to be a nightmare.

Well Debbie, here’s how it is. Taking a deep breath he pulled up a tall arm chair to my bedside and explained my situation.

A Detective Ramsey of Miami Victim’s Unit will probably come by later to fill you in on how you were found. As for the medical side of things, your bandages should be coming off your face within the next couple of days. I want to prepare you before this happens. Your injuries were very extensive. Most of the bones in your face including your jaw were broken. A specialist was flown to Miami to put your face back together. Both your arms were badly broken. One arm’s humerus was broken. Dr. Martin motioned with his hands what bone he was referring to as he spoke. That is the bone going from your shoulder to your elbow, while the other’s ulna was broken. That is one of the bones going from your elbow to your wrist. We were able to put both arms back together with the help of a few screws and rods. You were bleeding internally from damage done by 3 ribs on your left side and 4 ribs on your right side being broken. The ribs punctured your small and large intestines and collapsed one of your lungs. Your left leg was broken at the femur and tibia. That is the large bone from your hip to your knee and shinbone. We were able to put you back together. With substantial therapy you will be able to walk and run again as well as have full mobility of your arms. The biggest shock is going to be your face. There was so much damage that what you might remember will no longer be visible. Dr. Martin waited for some reaction, but when no movement or emotion was shown, he continued. I think I was more in shock than anything.

Debbie, Dr. Bartholomew is responsible for your facial reconstruction. He is a renowned plastic surgeon in Florida and the Southeast United States. He will be here later in the week once your bandages are removed. You have a minimum of two more surgeries coming in the next few weeks. Another surgery on your nose and one to try and do something about the scars. The wires holding your jaw will be removed in couple of weeks as well. The casts on your arms will come off in two weeks and the one on your leg will remain for four more weeks. Overall, Debbie, you are very lucky to still be alive. You’ve been in a coma for 20 days. You’re being fed by a tube to your stomach and you are being given fluids by IV. Your being awake is a good sign. Dr. Martin got up and moved the chair back against the wall. Walking over to the window, he pushed back the heavy drapes and sun light flooded the room. The fluorescent lights were only a small discomfort compared to the brightness of the sun which once again stung my eyes but there wasn’t anything that I could do to tell him about it. I was stuck in my non-verbal, non-moving, non-communicative state for the time being.

I know that the doctor said that I was in a coma for 20 days, but regardless of the amount of sleep I had, I was exhausted. I could feel my eyes begin to flutter with the effort of trying to stay awake. Dr. Martin must have noticed as well, because as I struggled to try and stay awake, I could hear his footsteps retreat and the door slowly closed.

As promised the same black nurse returned with a syringe and pushed it into the IV access point. What pain I had slowly evaporated as the morphine started coursing through my veins. There you go little missus. My name is Lanora. You will see me a lot in the comin' days. You can’t reach the call button so I will pop in from time to time to check on ya. Get some rest now and I will see ya in a few hours. As though on command my eyes became heavy again and sleep overtook me.

I must have slept through the night because it was dusk when Lanora gave me the magical elixir and now the sun was high overhead.

A timid knock brought my eyes around to the door and Lanora’s head came through the opening. Good, you’re awake. Are you feeling better today? With the single nod of my foot Lanora announced that Detective Ramsey was waiting in the hallway. I barely remember Dr. Martin telling me about Detective Ramsey.

Detective Ramsey apparently heard Lanora speaking to me because the next thing I knew, he was barreling through the door. Without as much as a glance at Lanora he headed to my bedside. The smirk on his face said it all. He apparently had a misconceived notion about my situation.

Detective Ramsey reminded me of a very young Kojak. How did I suddenly remember the old Kojak show but I can’t remember anything about myself? All that was missing from Detective Ramsey’s appearance was Kojak’s lollipop. He wore a trench coat and his head cleanly shaven. His nose seemed five times bigger than his face. Of course, I’m one to talk. Once my bandages come off I'll probably have a honker that only big bird’s mother could love.

Well I guess we are calling you Debbie Smith since you don’t remember who you are. Ramsey said, with sarcasm in his tone. I could tell that he wasn’t impressed or either he is having a very bad day. As he pulled up a chair, he continued. His slightly enlarged rump had problems getting up into the chair and after several tries, he decided to conveniently lean against the chair seat. It would serve him right for the chair to come out from under him.

Dr. Martin said that you communicate by moving your foot to yes or no questions. As he was speaking he moved the sheet to get a better view of my foot. Is that right?

I signaled yes and he confirmed that he saw my response with a nod of his head. I hope I can move my mouth soon because this is honestly getting very tiring.

Do you remember anything about what happened to you? Ramsey asked, as he took out his notepad and pen. I half expected him to stick the pen to his tongue. My foot response signaled no.

Do you know if you live in Miami? He asked, as he looked up to my eyes. I indicated no and simply closed my eyes.

Alright, let me tell you what I know. You were found in an alley here in Miami and if I might add, not a really good part of town. As Ramsey spoke he adjusted his coat and shifted his feet.

You didn’t have any identification on you. We received an anonymous call at 2:53 in the morning saying that a woman was just hit by a SUV style vehicle. The caller said that the driver must have been very mad, because they didn’t just hit you and run, they backed over you several times. Pausing for a moment Ramsey let the news sink in before he continued. So lady, I don’t know what you did or who did it to you, but I would be extremely careful once you get out of here. The caller also added that the sound of a siren kept the driver from killing you. A hooded person got out of the SUV and had drawn a gun and was standing over your body. Something spooked him, most likely the sirens, and he took off.

Luck was with you that night. I asked the nurses and Dr. Martin if you’ve had any visitors or anyone asking about a woman and they haven’t had either. I don’t know how long your luck is going to be with you. The shooter may not have the nerve to tell his boss that he didn’t finish his assignment, but once it is out that you lived, you’re in trouble. Ramsey watched me for any reaction and when there wasn’t any he closed his notebook and leaned close to the bed.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t know if it’s you or what you’re mixed up with, but if I were you I would lay low. Why wasn’t I upset about hearing that someone tried to kill me. I would think that any normal person would be flipping out right now. I feel more agitation than anything and that isn’t from our one-sided conversation. I was more agitated because I couldn’t move. After Ramsey’s little speech he said goodbye and walked out the door. I got the impression from Ramsey that this was a token visit and I probably wouldn’t see him again, which would be fine by me.

Chapter 2

The beeps and buzzers of the monitoring equipment and IV were enough to make a sane person go mad. If one machine wasn’t making noise another one was. Lanora was constantly in my room changing out a bag, adding a bag, or just seeing why one of the machines was sounding its god-forsaken alarm. I know that this was as frustrating to Lanora as it was to me.