Chapter Thirty-Seven

Steph slept better that night, after talking to Lester about her dreams. He had been really great about it, sympathetic and understanding and not at all smart ass, even the ones about Ranger and the other woman. Although she slept better, though, the dreams were still there. She wasn't able to wake herself up out of them, but a corner of her mind kept repeating the whole time "This is just a dream." A small piece of sanity, but helpful. When she woke up in terror, she knew that it was just a dream. The horrible moment of wonder- was it real? What will I find when I open my eyes?- lessened, at least for the first few times she woke up in the night.

Then Stephanie had a relapse, or so she thought. When she opened her eyes, the shadow was still there, towering over her. "You're just a dream" she mumbled as she rolled over. "Why don't you just go away?'

The shadow answered her in a sing-song whisper. "Because I am not a dream, Stephanie."

Bolting upright, Stephanie felt the blood drain from her face. It took only a second- and the moonlight glinting off a very sharp blade pointed in her direction- for her to react. Screaming at the top of her lungs for Tank, Lester, Ranger- anyone!- she slid off the bed and crouched into a defensive position. On her way down, she tripped over a shoe she'd neglected to put away earlier and stumbled. Catching herself, she shot out, "Who the fuck are you, then? The sandman?"

Score one for Steph- she wasn't too frightened for witty (semi-witty?) banter. "Your nightmare?" the figure asked.

"Great," Steph muttered, as she began to gather her thoughts. "I get the chatty psycho." The figure, however, didn't reply this time. He simply crouched down, mirroring her actions. Moving slowly, trying to circle around the man, Steph spared a thought to worry about Tank and Lester. If this guy got in, then something had happened to them. Neither man would let anyone into this house if he were able to prevent it.

"The two men are unconscious, but otherwise well, Stephanie." Great, even the pyschos had ESP these days. "It will be much more fun to watch their guilt after your body is found."

"Don't hold back or anything," Steph commented wryly,still trying to edge past the man. It was almost as if they were dancing, mirroring each other's movement without touching. Until he actually went after her, her self-defense skills were nearly useless. All her training had concentrated on disarming and disabling attackers, not confronting them. Something to remedy, if she made it out of here.

With Tank and Lester out, though, she had to disable the psycho on her own, or hold him off long enough for the two men to regain consciousness and come look for her. Replaying every action movie with a chase through a house she could think of in her mind, she searched fort a plan, but drew a blank. She was going to have to improvise. Well, that was her specialty. "So, why are you here?" she asked almost conversationally, hoping to spark a monologue and gain a little time.

"You."

Great, now he reverts to monosyllables. "And suppose I don't want to go anywhere with you?"

"You won't care." The man paused, a light smile playing across his shadowed face. "You'll be unconscious as well."

"Not dead?" she pressed.

"Not yet."

Double fuck. The dancing had already gotten on her nerves, and the conversation wasn't any better. Her gun was across the room, and her only weapon was-- nothing. She didn't even have a shoe to throw at him, having lost track of the one she tripped over earlier. So she went for something unexpected and hoped to buy a few moments. Standing up, she stopped moving, let her hands rest at her sides, and waited for him to rush her.

He was puzzled, she could tell. The minute he realized that she wasn't going to fight him, he came at her full speed. That was his mistake. She used his own momentum, crouching down and rolling backward, and slammed him into the wall behind her. He was stunned, but not unconscious. Ranger would have broken his ribs with that throw, but she wasn't strong enough to do more than momentarily immobilize him. Kicking his knife away from where it had flown out of his hand on impact, she took off through the doorway and down the stairs.

Tank and Lester had been knocked unconscious and left on the kitchen floor, slumped against the cabinets and their arms tied behind them. She only had a few minutes until the intruder caught up to her, but she thought she had a better chance with Tank and Lester, even groggy, helping her than by herself. Steph tried to untie their restrains until she realized it was duct tape; they would have to be cut free, and she didn't have a knife. But Lester always carried one- was the guy dumb enough to..

Yes. The knife was still in Lester's ankle sheath. Taking it out, she managed to hack a layer or two open when Les started to come to. Gotta hand it to him, the attacker might have surprised him, but Les went from out to fully conscious in less then a minute. "How many are there, Bomber?" he whispered.

"One that I know of; probably that's it." She finished loosening his bonds and started on Tank's while Lester did a quick search of his personal arsenal. Most of it intact, he drew his spare gun and motioned for her to stay put.

She nodded, and continued what she was doing until Tank roared to life a few minutes later. He didn't come around as well as Les, and Lester heard the two of them long before he made his way back into the kitchen, gun still drawn. Pausing to lean against the counter, he frowned. "He's gone, Steph."

"Where the hell did he go?" she demanded, seriously pissed.

"Don't know." Lester was already on the phone with Ranger, exchanging one word questions and answers. A short time later, looking at Tank before addressing her, Lester filled in the blanks. "We're moving to another safe house in the morning. Right now, we sit tight until Ranger gets here."

"Another safe house?" Steph groaned. "The whole safe house thing doesn't seem to be working too well for us."

Lester stared at a spot on the wall above her head. "This one will."

"Oh? How do you know? Where are we going?"

His answers sent s shiver up her spine. "Tia's."