Mad Powers (Tapped In) Read Online Free

bandaged. I had both legs—both bandaged. I had something wrapped around my head, which was throbbing, and there were numerous clear and white polyurethane tubes connected to medical equipment, off to my side and behind me. I could hear a soft, rhythmic beeping sound, which must be coming from a heart monitor. The door to my room was open and I saw pink and blue-clad nurses scurrying back and forth. Then a candy-striper … is that what they’re called? carrying a bouquet of flowers walked by. Within several minutes a nurse, followed by a doctor right on her heels, walked into my room.
    The nurse made a beeline for my I.V. After checking its fluid level, she looked at me. She was pretty, maybe thirty, with empathetic, caring eyes. She put her hand on my cheek, either out of kindness or to check the temperature of my skin, I wasn’t sure. The doctor was at the foot of my bed, reading my chart. And then I realized something else: I couldn’t read their thoughts. Had I imagined my ability to do that at the accident scene? Of course I’d imagined that! I had been traumatized, physically and mentally.
    “Good morning, how are you feeling today?” the nurse asked, leaning in closer to me and checking my bandages.
    She had small freckles, which she’d tried to conceal with makeup, and the glint of a tiny pierced diamond on a cute, upturned nose. Her face was inches from my own. Noticing me staring up at her, she pulled away with the beginnings of a smile.
    “I’m okay, I guess …” I said, in a hoarse but discernible voice.
    “Well, you’ve been through a lot; your body will need time to recover, so don’t push it—sleep as much as you can. My name is Jill. Use this to signal the nurse’s station if you need anything.” She placed a call button within reach at the side of the bed and hurried off. The doctor towered over me from the opposite side of the bed; a beaklike nose supported black-framed reading glasses, and his hair was meticulously combed to cover a balding head.
    Looking up from my chart, he spoke in a gentle voice. “Hello, I’m Doctor Madison. I was on duty when they brought you in several days ago. Fortunately, with the exception of some bruising and deep lacerations, you’re in pretty good shape. No broken bones, no internal injuries …”
    “How long have I been here? How long was I out?” I asked, confused that he’d mentioned several days had elapsed.
    “It’s been three days. You have a pretty bad concussion, so that’s not abnormal.”
    “I must have fallen asleep at the wheel …” The memories from the accident were coming back to me.
    The doctor gently shook his head. “Let’s not think about that right now, OK? Do you remember who you are … can you tell me your name?”
    I drew a blank. “I don’t know, doctor. I woke up in that car this way. I seriously have no idea who I am.”
    The doctor must have recognized the concern on my face, because he smiled and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s quite common to have short-term memory lapses after major head traumas such as yours. It’s commonly referred to as Retrograde Amnesia —where the patient has difficulty remembering things prior to receiving a severe blow to the head. I’m no expert in that field. We’ll need to have a specialist check you out and run some tests … but I wouldn’t put too much into your memory loss right now. One day at a time.” He started to walk away.
    “Wait, there was an envelope—the paramedic had it.” What was his name … Juan. “His name was Juan.”
    The doctor nodded and gestured towards the nightstand. “Are you Rob? You had no wallet on you; they needed to cut away your clothes at the scene … and, unfortunately, a little while later your vehicle, as well as the others involved, exploded—they say there was a fuel leak … ignited by a spark or something.”
    “So … anything left in that car which would help identify me is—”
    “Pretty much gone,” the