Mirror Image

her like meteors out of a dark void. She wanted to dodge them, because they intruded on the peaceful nothingness. She craved the bliss of knowing and feeling absolutely nothing, so she tuned out the voices and sank once again into the cushiony pillows of forgetfulness.
    * * *
    “Mrs. Rutledge? Can you hear me?”
    Reflexively, she responded, and a low moan escaped her sore chest. She tried to lift her eyelids, but she couldn’t do it. One was prized open and a beam of light painfully pierced her skull. At last the hateful light was extinguished.
    “She’s coming out of it. Notify her husband immediately,” the disembodied voice said. She tried turning her head in its direction, but found it impossible to move. “Have you got the number of their hotel handy?”
    “Yes, Doctor. Mr. Rutledge gave it to all of us in case she came to while he wasn’t here.”
    Lingering tendrils of the gray mist evaporated. Words she couldn’t previously decipher now linked up with recognizable definitions in her brain. She understood the words, and yet they made no sense.
    “I know you’re experiencing a great deal of discomfort, Mrs. Rutledge. We’re doing everything possible to alleviate that. You won’t be able to speak, so don’t try. Just relax. Your family will be here shortly.”
    Her rapid pulse reverberated through her head. She wanted to breathe, but she couldn’t. A machine was breathing for her. Through a tube in her mouth, air was being pumped directly into her lungs.
    Experimentally she tried opening her eyes again. One was coaxed into opening partially. Through the slit, she could see fuzzy light. It hurt to focus, but she concentrated on doing so until indistinct forms began to take shape.
    Yes, she was in a hospital. That much she had known.
    But how? Why? It had something to do with the nightmare she had left behind in the mist. She didn’t want to remember it now, so she left it alone and dwelled on the present.
    She was immobile. Her arms and legs wouldn’t move no matter how hard she concentrated. Nor could she move her head. She felt like she was sealed inside a stiff cocoon. The paralysis terrified her. Was it permanent?
    Her heart started beating more furiously. Almost immediately a presence materialized at her side. “Mrs. Rutledge, there’s no need to be afraid. You’re going to be fine.”
    “Her heart rate is too high,” a second presence remarked from the other side of her bed.
    “She’s just scared, I think.” She recognized the first voice. “She’s disoriented—doesn’t know what to make of all this.”
    A form clothed in white bent over her. “Everything’s going to be all right. We’ve called Mr. Rutledge and he’s on his way. You’ll be glad to see him, won’t you? He’s so relieved that you’ve regained consciousness.”
    “Poor thing. Can you imagine waking up and having this to cope with?”
    “I can’t imagine living through a plane crash.”
    An unvoiced scream echoed loudly through her head.
    She remembered!
    Screaming metal. Screaming people. Smoke, dense and black. Then flames, and stark terror.
    She had automatically performed the emergency instructions drilled into her by hundreds of flight attendants on as many flights.
    Once she had escaped the burning fuselage, she began running blindly through a world bathed in red blood and black smoke. Even though it was agonizing to run, she did so, clutching—
    Clutching what? She remembered it was something precious—something she had to carry to safety.
    She remembered falling. As she had gone down, she had taken what she had then believed to be her last look at the world. She hadn’t even felt the pain of colliding with the hard ground. By then she had been enveloped by oblivion, which until now had protected her from the agony of remembering.
    “Doctor!”
    “What is it?”
    “Her heartbeat has escalated dramatically.”
    “Okay, let’s take her down a bit. Mrs. Rutledge,” the doctor said imperiously, “calm down. Everything is all right. There is nothing to worry about.”
    “Dr. Martin, Mr. Rutledge just arrived.”
    “Keep him outside until we’ve stabilized her.”
    “What’s the matter?” The new voice seemed to come from miles away, but carried a ring of authority.
    “Mr. Rutledge, please give us a few—”
    “Carole?”
    She was suddenly aware of him. He was very close, bending over her, speaking to her with soft reassurance. “You’re going to be fine. I know you’re frightened