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Hanging onto it, she walked on her knees to Tom's feet. She set the poker down. As she pulled his legs straight and pressed them together, she watched his face closely for signs that he might be regaining consciousness. |
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God, she thought, what if he doesn't come to? What if he's in a coma, or something, and never comes out of it? Or he wakes up, eventually, but his brains are scrambled and he's nothing but a vegetable for the rest of his life? |
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He'll be OK, she told herself. He'll be fine. People get knocked out all the time and come out of it OK. |
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She took off her belt, wrapped it twice around his ankles, pulled it tight, and fastened it. The buckle was on top, so she slid the straps until it disappeared behind his ankles. |
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He could still get to it, but not easily. |
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She picked up the brass poker and watched him. |
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As much as she wanted Tom to regain consciousness, she hoped he wouldn't do it too soon. Not before Kara got back and they had time to tie his hands. |
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Maybe when he comes to he won't be crazy anymore. |
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God, I don't want to hit him. |
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But I can't let him get loose and attack us. |
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She heard quick footfalls behind her, looked back, and saw the girl rushing forward with a couple of jumpropes. 'Will these be OK?' |
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'Fine,' Denise said, though she wished the ropes |
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