- It's not possible! It's not true! - he thought - it's not happening to me! -
Jay was on tilt. The contents of the letter terrified him.
He had been called to arms. It was an undercover assignment at the City of Chicago military base.
Logby, in the letter, wrote that, according to him, the instigator of Jeff's killing was inside the military base.
The detective was in crisis.
He was feeling bad again. He couldn't go back. That environment would destroy him.
After leaving Afghanistan it hadn't been easy at all. It had taken a long time to put the pieces back together and move on.
It couldn't happen again.
Jay grabbed his jacket and house keys and putting the letter in his pocket, ran out.
He ran like a madman, without a precise goal. He was going very fast, too fast for a simple run, too much for a tired and worn body like his, too much to be able to withstand at that time.
It was yet another emotional reaction. He ran like crazy and didn't even look at what he was around.
He nearly tripped and fell more than once, but nothing seemed to stop him.
His house was a short distance from the Med. That was where he was subconsciously going.
Shortly before arriving he stumbled into no one knows what and fell to the ground.
He was in the hospital parking lot. He had injured his knee, his elbow and his hands lightly, just like a child falls.
But getting up he felt completely tired, dizzy, he was out of breath and soon began to hyperventilate.
He managed to sit up. He was sweating from his physical activity, but now he was sweating even more.
His hands burned and a strong nausea took hold of him.
His heart was beating wildly and he began to see out of focus, until everything went black.
His body slid sideways towards the ground from the position he was sitting in.
It is not known how long he stayed there.