" ER/Stand part 26 "
He stumbled along the road. It was dark and still raining
and deep down he knew it was dangerous and stupid to be traveling
at night but he didn't care. Not in the slightest. If he was
killed by one of the rare wolves that were already roaming
outside of Yellowstone National Park, then so be it. He didn't
deserve any better. He had no real idea where he was, except that
he was heading west. West was where he belonged. He had decided
that during his day long drunk fest. He didn't deserve to be with
good people. That much seemed very obvious to him. Carol had been
a good person, and he had lost her. Mark had been a good person,
with the same end result. His traveling companions, all decent
people at heart, had taken off. Lucy was probably dead, and he
had done nothing to save her. Kerry was also probably dead, and
at best he had ignored all of the signs that she was very
depressed. At worst, he had egged it on with cruel remarks.
So he was heading west. Not that he wanted to, but he just
didn't know what else to do. He had to go somewhere, and he
didn't want to hurt any more good people. His touch of death
would probably go over well in the west. He didn't think he would
be all that welcome in Las Vegas but he was going anyway. If they
killed him, that was fine. He didn't really care. Whatever. He
wouldn't last long there, his dreams told him that. Charming,
hard core alcoholics, even hard core alcoholics with medical
degrees, were not going to be tolerated. So, if he tripped in the
road and gave himself a skull fracture, he wasn't overly worried.
In truth, he'd welcome it.
It was dark, with the rain clouds covering the moon. It had
finally stopped raining and the evening was getting very chilly.
It was hard to believe that it was only mid August, but then he
was in the Rocky Mountains. It would be snowing by September and
the roads that were already terrible would be impassable. He also
didn't care much about that. If I'm lucky, Doug thought, I'll
just die of hypothermia. There were worst ways to go.
Like killing yourself in a Walgreens, or being gang raped to
death by bikers. He shook that thought off as quickly as it
popped into his head. It was over and done with. He had failed
them both, just like he had failed Carol. Just like he failed
everyone in his life.
He noticed the glow first. Without the vast electrical
humming of street lights and house lights, the nights were very
dark. Seeing any sort of light, especially a steady glow and not
the gentle flickering of a fire meant people. It was either the
bikers or the remains of his group. He wasn't sure he wanted to
see either. On the other hand, his rational mind chimed in, it
might be a good idea just to know who it is. The bikers were not
the friendly sort and while he wasn't feeling very focused on
preserving his life, he had absolutely no wish to be tortured to
death. At least not consciously, he though with a sad smile, and
I'd rather do the job myself.
More to the point, it was almost three in the morning. He
wondered why anyone would be up at that hour. It smacked of a
problem. The question was, did he want to be involved or did he
want to avoid it? Avoid it, he decided, but check it out just the
same. If it was the bikers, he could lie low for a while with a
bottle and let them pass.
The glow was coming from a campground. He felt like an ass
lurking around in the bushes but it was most definitely safer. He
edged closer. The glow was coming from several Coleman lanterns,
one on the ground, one perched on a picnic table and one sitting
on the tailgate of a truck. A very familiar looking red truck.
And the dark haired young man leaning over a pile of sleeping
bags was most certainly not Kerry Weaver. His eyes narrowed. He
recognized it as her truck, and there hadn't been a body in the
Walgreens. She could be alive, or more likely the young man might
have captured or killed her. He felt the gun he carried at his
waist. If it was one of the bikers, he had to take a look. He
owed Kerry that, even if she was dead.
He tried to be careful, but the young man was oblivious to
his approach. He took the gun out of his waistband, but he
carried it loosely. The situation didn't seem to be what he
thought. The young man looked almost frantic as he knelt down
beside the sleeping bags. Doug realized suddenly that there was
either another person there or else the young man was talking to
himself.
" Come on chief..." the young man muttered. Doug watched as
the man shook the other person. " Just open your eyes or
something..."
" Hey." Doug spoke softly, but loud enough that the young
man looked up. He made sure that the gun was visible, but tried
to seem non-threatening. He didn't feel threatened by the young
man who looked feverish and pale, but he wasn't going to take any
chances. The young man saw the gun and registered it, but seemed
to disregard it in an instant.
" My friend here is sick. If you want to take something, go
ahead. If you want to help... I could use the help. I'm Dave
Malucci." He pointed at the gun. " If you're going to kill me, go
ahead."
Doug pointed at the truck. He didn't get closer. He wasn't
that sure that he was hearing the truth. " Where did you get that
truck? I was traveling with someone. There was some trouble... We
got separated. That looks an awful lot like her truck. So where
did you get it?"
Dave blinked. " Are you Doug? Doug Ross? " He gestured to
the stacks of sleeping bags. A dawning suspicion struck Doug. If
Dave knew his name, and had Kerry's only means of transportation,
it was just possible that Kerry was the sick friend. She had been
sick after all. He took a step closer, and felt an immense sense
of relief as he spotted her red hair. How on earth did she hook
up with this gimp, he wondered as he knelt by her side. Dave eyed
him suspiciously and leaned in protectively. " You didn't answer
my question, buddy."
Christ, he's like a puppy dog that's imprinted on a
surrogate mommy, Doug thought with amusement. " Yes, I am Doug
Ross. I have known Kerry for years, so you can back off, Dave."
He ignored the other man for a moment and examined Kerry. She was
shivering despite the three sleeping bags that Dave had piled on
her. She also was semiconscious at best. He shook her but that
did nothing. " She's burning up. How long has she been like this?
Has she had any medication?"
Dave rooted around and came up with some aspirin and a
bottle of Robitussin. " She was ok when we went to sleep. I mean,
she was sick..." He coughed into his hand.
" She's sick and you're sick. " Doug said as he started
pulling the sleeping bags off Kerry. " You need to take some
aspirin. We had the flu jumping around in our group. It looks
like we finally managed to infect her." He saw the man's eyes
widen in surprise at the word flu, but he didn't let himself
worry about that. " There were some IV's and bags of saline in
the truck. And some antibiotics."
Dave shook his head. " Checked that already." He gestured to
Kerry. " She said something about it, so I looked. Someone
must've dropped something on your equipment. Everything that's
not broken was ruined by the saline bags that popped. I could go
back into town and get more stuff. If you'll stay here..."
There was a trace of doubt in Dave's voice as though he
suspected that Doug couldn't be trusted. Of course, Doug
realized, Kerry filled his head with tales of my
irresponsibility. It was fair at least. " Do you have any idea
what to look for once you get there?" Dave seemed like a nice
enough guy but he didn't seem to be the brightest bulb in the
bunch.
" I am a doctor. " Dave's tone became defensive. " I might
be sick but I think I can find a damn thermometer and IV bag. "
Dave glared at him. " I can smell the booze on you. The last
thing you need to be doing is driving."
How old is this guy, Doug mused, twelve? Thirteen? He felt
irritated. Irritated and angry, even though he knew the younger
man had a pretty good point about his state of intoxication. "
Ok, smart guy, what do you bring back?"
" Some IV's. A couple different types of antibiotics, unless
you're sure she's not allergic to the common stuff. Maybe some
ice packs and rubbing alcohol, for the fever." Dave looked at him
expectantly, almost daring him to disagree. Doug almost did, just
to mess with the head of what was obviously only remaining member
of the year's crop of medical school graduates. Still, it was
mean and cruel to argue with the guy when Kerry was sick as hell
and Dave wasn't much better.
" Ok. You head in. Get back as fast as you can. I will stay
here and take care of things." He took off his small knapsack and
started pulling out the bottles that were the only thing he was
carrying. Dave watched him suspiciously.
" Don't you think you've had enough to drink already?" Dave
asked after a moment.
Doug almost smacked him. " It's alcohol. It evaporates
faster than water. I'm going to use it to try and bring her
temperature down while you're off driving to town. Why didn't you
go into town sooner... as soon as you knew she was this sick?"
" In case you missed it, there's a bunch of sociopaths
running around here. Do you think it would be a good idea to
leave her here by herself when she's not conscious?" Dave glared
a little more, but his anger seemed to deflate after a moment. "
Look, I better get going."
" You do that." Doug said. He watched as the young man
trotted over to the truck. It wasn't a half bad thought that Dave
had, really. Doug doubted that leaving Kerry alone was a great
idea. He also didn't see the bikers passing by the opportunity of
a woman, even a sick woman. No doubt that was Dave's rational,
helped along by the fact that Dave was probably running a fever
himself. The truck roared into life and in seconds it was gone.
He'll be back in an hour, Doug thought, maybe more. There hadn't
been a hospital in the small town so he would have to raid doctor
offices. So now what?
So now I need to try to help Kerry out. He sighed. The last
thing he wanted to do was play nurse for anyone, least of all
Kerry. On the other hand, even with his new found plan to head
west and basically do evil, he couldn't leave a sick person lying
there. He picked up one of the bottles of whiskey and opened it
and then started to pour it over her. " I hope you know what a
waste of perfectly good whiskey this is, Kerry."
That didn't provoke a response, but he didn't expect much
from someone that was shaking from fever and mumbling
incoherently. He pulled his stethoscope out and listened to her
breathing. She was as congested as he expected, but he didn't
hear the characteristic crackling pop of pneumonia. " Kerry, you
need to sit up, to help your breathing." She didn't respond,
except to curl over onto her side. I don't know why I'm bothering
to speak, he thought darkly, the odds of her even remembering
this night are right up there with my chances of getting lucky.
He pulled her up into a seated position and supported her by
sitting behind her, letting her head rest on his chest. He didn't
know what else to do. She was too warm to wrap up in a sleeping
bag so he cracked open his other bottle of whiskey and got it
ready. Unless her fever broke on its own, which he rather doubted
would happen just judging by sick he was, then he would have to
use the remaining bottle as a cooling agent. Considering how
drunk he was, he didn't need a drink for a while yet. There was
certainly enough alcohol lying around that he didn't worry about
feeding his addiction.
He sat that way with her in his arms for a while. He didn't
know how long. He had lost his watch weeks ago and never replaced
it. Still, at least Kerry's shaking had stopped, which he took as
a good sign since she was still breathing. " Kerry, you in
there?" he asked as he gently pulled her more upright.
" Doug?" She turned her head to look up at him. " How... how
did you get here?" She didn't sound quite right but he gave her
plus points for sounding coherent.
" I was just wandering by," he said easily. " How do you
feel?"
" Hmmm.." she grumbled. " I'm incredibly sick. Its the
middle of the night. I'm running a fever. I reek of cheap whiskey
for some reason. I find myself lying in your arms. I've had
nightmares like this, Doug."
" Remarks like that are precisely why we don't get along,
Kerry. Are you feeling better? You've been muttering incoherently
for the last hour. I must say, you're more interesting that way."
He couldn't help it. It was just too comfortable to play sniping
games with Kerry, even when the situation didn't warrant it.
" We don't get along because we're both too stubborn to
admit that we do get along." She shifted in his arms. " You know
I'm right."
" If you're right then you know how much I despise being
told you're right." He heard her chuckle and took that as a good
sign. " Your new little boy toy went into town to get some
antibiotics. He seemed like a half wit."
" Well, he went to the University of Grenada Medical School.
He's a nice kid. One of those bikers was going to rape him so
he's a little stressed out." It was the sort of thing that only
she could say with an utterly straight face. She was quiet for a
long moment. " Doug, have you been having bad dreams? About a
dark man? With no face? "
He tensed as she spoke. It was eerie, and worse, it hit far
too close to home. " Why are you asking me that?"
" Have you? "
He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see it. " He's
in Vegas. " He didn't get into his plan to head west. He didn't
see Kerry as the sort to embrace the dark man's philosophy.
She was quiet for a long moment. He thought she'd gone back
to sleep when she suddenly spoke. " Carol wouldn't want you to go
west. You know that, don't you? She loved you. I could see it
every time she looked at you. She wouldn't want anything to
happen to you."
He sighed. " Carol's dead, Kerry." He wasn't angry. He
doubted she even knew what she was saying. That she was right
merely irritated him.
" Carol is dead, Doug, but you're not." She shifted
position in his arms. He felt her start to shiver again and held
her tightly. Her fever must be spiking, he thought worriedly.
Again, he thought she had fallen asleep when she spoke once
again. " Doug, don't go west... I don't think you're his type,
and we'd miss you. I'd miss you."
" Well, that's a vote of confidence," he said with a gentle
chuckle. " Kerry?" He nudged her a little but she didn't respond
except to shiver uncontrollably. He did it again but she was
definitely asleep or as near possible as one could when sick.
This is really a great way to finish off the evening, he thought
tiredly. He wondered about what she said. How could she be having
the same dream that I've been having, he wondered. He had thought
for some weeks that his dreams were real and that there really
was an evil empire, but he'd also thought he was going crazy. It
struck for the first time that he wasn't the only one having a
hard time sleeping at night. He also wasn't the only one not
coping very well. He took a deep breath and let it out. At least
until he was convinced that Kerry would be all right, his plans
were off.
He stumbled along the road. It was dark and still raining
and deep down he knew it was dangerous and stupid to be traveling
at night but he didn't care. Not in the slightest. If he was
killed by one of the rare wolves that were already roaming
outside of Yellowstone National Park, then so be it. He didn't
deserve any better. He had no real idea where he was, except that
he was heading west. West was where he belonged. He had decided
that during his day long drunk fest. He didn't deserve to be with
good people. That much seemed very obvious to him. Carol had been
a good person, and he had lost her. Mark had been a good person,
with the same end result. His traveling companions, all decent
people at heart, had taken off. Lucy was probably dead, and he
had done nothing to save her. Kerry was also probably dead, and
at best he had ignored all of the signs that she was very
depressed. At worst, he had egged it on with cruel remarks.
So he was heading west. Not that he wanted to, but he just
didn't know what else to do. He had to go somewhere, and he
didn't want to hurt any more good people. His touch of death
would probably go over well in the west. He didn't think he would
be all that welcome in Las Vegas but he was going anyway. If they
killed him, that was fine. He didn't really care. Whatever. He
wouldn't last long there, his dreams told him that. Charming,
hard core alcoholics, even hard core alcoholics with medical
degrees, were not going to be tolerated. So, if he tripped in the
road and gave himself a skull fracture, he wasn't overly worried.
In truth, he'd welcome it.
It was dark, with the rain clouds covering the moon. It had
finally stopped raining and the evening was getting very chilly.
It was hard to believe that it was only mid August, but then he
was in the Rocky Mountains. It would be snowing by September and
the roads that were already terrible would be impassable. He also
didn't care much about that. If I'm lucky, Doug thought, I'll
just die of hypothermia. There were worst ways to go.
Like killing yourself in a Walgreens, or being gang raped to
death by bikers. He shook that thought off as quickly as it
popped into his head. It was over and done with. He had failed
them both, just like he had failed Carol. Just like he failed
everyone in his life.
He noticed the glow first. Without the vast electrical
humming of street lights and house lights, the nights were very
dark. Seeing any sort of light, especially a steady glow and not
the gentle flickering of a fire meant people. It was either the
bikers or the remains of his group. He wasn't sure he wanted to
see either. On the other hand, his rational mind chimed in, it
might be a good idea just to know who it is. The bikers were not
the friendly sort and while he wasn't feeling very focused on
preserving his life, he had absolutely no wish to be tortured to
death. At least not consciously, he though with a sad smile, and
I'd rather do the job myself.
More to the point, it was almost three in the morning. He
wondered why anyone would be up at that hour. It smacked of a
problem. The question was, did he want to be involved or did he
want to avoid it? Avoid it, he decided, but check it out just the
same. If it was the bikers, he could lie low for a while with a
bottle and let them pass.
The glow was coming from a campground. He felt like an ass
lurking around in the bushes but it was most definitely safer. He
edged closer. The glow was coming from several Coleman lanterns,
one on the ground, one perched on a picnic table and one sitting
on the tailgate of a truck. A very familiar looking red truck.
And the dark haired young man leaning over a pile of sleeping
bags was most certainly not Kerry Weaver. His eyes narrowed. He
recognized it as her truck, and there hadn't been a body in the
Walgreens. She could be alive, or more likely the young man might
have captured or killed her. He felt the gun he carried at his
waist. If it was one of the bikers, he had to take a look. He
owed Kerry that, even if she was dead.
He tried to be careful, but the young man was oblivious to
his approach. He took the gun out of his waistband, but he
carried it loosely. The situation didn't seem to be what he
thought. The young man looked almost frantic as he knelt down
beside the sleeping bags. Doug realized suddenly that there was
either another person there or else the young man was talking to
himself.
" Come on chief..." the young man muttered. Doug watched as
the man shook the other person. " Just open your eyes or
something..."
" Hey." Doug spoke softly, but loud enough that the young
man looked up. He made sure that the gun was visible, but tried
to seem non-threatening. He didn't feel threatened by the young
man who looked feverish and pale, but he wasn't going to take any
chances. The young man saw the gun and registered it, but seemed
to disregard it in an instant.
" My friend here is sick. If you want to take something, go
ahead. If you want to help... I could use the help. I'm Dave
Malucci." He pointed at the gun. " If you're going to kill me, go
ahead."
Doug pointed at the truck. He didn't get closer. He wasn't
that sure that he was hearing the truth. " Where did you get that
truck? I was traveling with someone. There was some trouble... We
got separated. That looks an awful lot like her truck. So where
did you get it?"
Dave blinked. " Are you Doug? Doug Ross? " He gestured to
the stacks of sleeping bags. A dawning suspicion struck Doug. If
Dave knew his name, and had Kerry's only means of transportation,
it was just possible that Kerry was the sick friend. She had been
sick after all. He took a step closer, and felt an immense sense
of relief as he spotted her red hair. How on earth did she hook
up with this gimp, he wondered as he knelt by her side. Dave eyed
him suspiciously and leaned in protectively. " You didn't answer
my question, buddy."
Christ, he's like a puppy dog that's imprinted on a
surrogate mommy, Doug thought with amusement. " Yes, I am Doug
Ross. I have known Kerry for years, so you can back off, Dave."
He ignored the other man for a moment and examined Kerry. She was
shivering despite the three sleeping bags that Dave had piled on
her. She also was semiconscious at best. He shook her but that
did nothing. " She's burning up. How long has she been like this?
Has she had any medication?"
Dave rooted around and came up with some aspirin and a
bottle of Robitussin. " She was ok when we went to sleep. I mean,
she was sick..." He coughed into his hand.
" She's sick and you're sick. " Doug said as he started
pulling the sleeping bags off Kerry. " You need to take some
aspirin. We had the flu jumping around in our group. It looks
like we finally managed to infect her." He saw the man's eyes
widen in surprise at the word flu, but he didn't let himself
worry about that. " There were some IV's and bags of saline in
the truck. And some antibiotics."
Dave shook his head. " Checked that already." He gestured to
Kerry. " She said something about it, so I looked. Someone
must've dropped something on your equipment. Everything that's
not broken was ruined by the saline bags that popped. I could go
back into town and get more stuff. If you'll stay here..."
There was a trace of doubt in Dave's voice as though he
suspected that Doug couldn't be trusted. Of course, Doug
realized, Kerry filled his head with tales of my
irresponsibility. It was fair at least. " Do you have any idea
what to look for once you get there?" Dave seemed like a nice
enough guy but he didn't seem to be the brightest bulb in the
bunch.
" I am a doctor. " Dave's tone became defensive. " I might
be sick but I think I can find a damn thermometer and IV bag. "
Dave glared at him. " I can smell the booze on you. The last
thing you need to be doing is driving."
How old is this guy, Doug mused, twelve? Thirteen? He felt
irritated. Irritated and angry, even though he knew the younger
man had a pretty good point about his state of intoxication. "
Ok, smart guy, what do you bring back?"
" Some IV's. A couple different types of antibiotics, unless
you're sure she's not allergic to the common stuff. Maybe some
ice packs and rubbing alcohol, for the fever." Dave looked at him
expectantly, almost daring him to disagree. Doug almost did, just
to mess with the head of what was obviously only remaining member
of the year's crop of medical school graduates. Still, it was
mean and cruel to argue with the guy when Kerry was sick as hell
and Dave wasn't much better.
" Ok. You head in. Get back as fast as you can. I will stay
here and take care of things." He took off his small knapsack and
started pulling out the bottles that were the only thing he was
carrying. Dave watched him suspiciously.
" Don't you think you've had enough to drink already?" Dave
asked after a moment.
Doug almost smacked him. " It's alcohol. It evaporates
faster than water. I'm going to use it to try and bring her
temperature down while you're off driving to town. Why didn't you
go into town sooner... as soon as you knew she was this sick?"
" In case you missed it, there's a bunch of sociopaths
running around here. Do you think it would be a good idea to
leave her here by herself when she's not conscious?" Dave glared
a little more, but his anger seemed to deflate after a moment. "
Look, I better get going."
" You do that." Doug said. He watched as the young man
trotted over to the truck. It wasn't a half bad thought that Dave
had, really. Doug doubted that leaving Kerry alone was a great
idea. He also didn't see the bikers passing by the opportunity of
a woman, even a sick woman. No doubt that was Dave's rational,
helped along by the fact that Dave was probably running a fever
himself. The truck roared into life and in seconds it was gone.
He'll be back in an hour, Doug thought, maybe more. There hadn't
been a hospital in the small town so he would have to raid doctor
offices. So now what?
So now I need to try to help Kerry out. He sighed. The last
thing he wanted to do was play nurse for anyone, least of all
Kerry. On the other hand, even with his new found plan to head
west and basically do evil, he couldn't leave a sick person lying
there. He picked up one of the bottles of whiskey and opened it
and then started to pour it over her. " I hope you know what a
waste of perfectly good whiskey this is, Kerry."
That didn't provoke a response, but he didn't expect much
from someone that was shaking from fever and mumbling
incoherently. He pulled his stethoscope out and listened to her
breathing. She was as congested as he expected, but he didn't
hear the characteristic crackling pop of pneumonia. " Kerry, you
need to sit up, to help your breathing." She didn't respond,
except to curl over onto her side. I don't know why I'm bothering
to speak, he thought darkly, the odds of her even remembering
this night are right up there with my chances of getting lucky.
He pulled her up into a seated position and supported her by
sitting behind her, letting her head rest on his chest. He didn't
know what else to do. She was too warm to wrap up in a sleeping
bag so he cracked open his other bottle of whiskey and got it
ready. Unless her fever broke on its own, which he rather doubted
would happen just judging by sick he was, then he would have to
use the remaining bottle as a cooling agent. Considering how
drunk he was, he didn't need a drink for a while yet. There was
certainly enough alcohol lying around that he didn't worry about
feeding his addiction.
He sat that way with her in his arms for a while. He didn't
know how long. He had lost his watch weeks ago and never replaced
it. Still, at least Kerry's shaking had stopped, which he took as
a good sign since she was still breathing. " Kerry, you in
there?" he asked as he gently pulled her more upright.
" Doug?" She turned her head to look up at him. " How... how
did you get here?" She didn't sound quite right but he gave her
plus points for sounding coherent.
" I was just wandering by," he said easily. " How do you
feel?"
" Hmmm.." she grumbled. " I'm incredibly sick. Its the
middle of the night. I'm running a fever. I reek of cheap whiskey
for some reason. I find myself lying in your arms. I've had
nightmares like this, Doug."
" Remarks like that are precisely why we don't get along,
Kerry. Are you feeling better? You've been muttering incoherently
for the last hour. I must say, you're more interesting that way."
He couldn't help it. It was just too comfortable to play sniping
games with Kerry, even when the situation didn't warrant it.
" We don't get along because we're both too stubborn to
admit that we do get along." She shifted in his arms. " You know
I'm right."
" If you're right then you know how much I despise being
told you're right." He heard her chuckle and took that as a good
sign. " Your new little boy toy went into town to get some
antibiotics. He seemed like a half wit."
" Well, he went to the University of Grenada Medical School.
He's a nice kid. One of those bikers was going to rape him so
he's a little stressed out." It was the sort of thing that only
she could say with an utterly straight face. She was quiet for a
long moment. " Doug, have you been having bad dreams? About a
dark man? With no face? "
He tensed as she spoke. It was eerie, and worse, it hit far
too close to home. " Why are you asking me that?"
" Have you? "
He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see it. " He's
in Vegas. " He didn't get into his plan to head west. He didn't
see Kerry as the sort to embrace the dark man's philosophy.
She was quiet for a long moment. He thought she'd gone back
to sleep when she suddenly spoke. " Carol wouldn't want you to go
west. You know that, don't you? She loved you. I could see it
every time she looked at you. She wouldn't want anything to
happen to you."
He sighed. " Carol's dead, Kerry." He wasn't angry. He
doubted she even knew what she was saying. That she was right
merely irritated him.
" Carol is dead, Doug, but you're not." She shifted
position in his arms. He felt her start to shiver again and held
her tightly. Her fever must be spiking, he thought worriedly.
Again, he thought she had fallen asleep when she spoke once
again. " Doug, don't go west... I don't think you're his type,
and we'd miss you. I'd miss you."
" Well, that's a vote of confidence," he said with a gentle
chuckle. " Kerry?" He nudged her a little but she didn't respond
except to shiver uncontrollably. He did it again but she was
definitely asleep or as near possible as one could when sick.
This is really a great way to finish off the evening, he thought
tiredly. He wondered about what she said. How could she be having
the same dream that I've been having, he wondered. He had thought
for some weeks that his dreams were real and that there really
was an evil empire, but he'd also thought he was going crazy. It
struck for the first time that he wasn't the only one having a
hard time sleeping at night. He also wasn't the only one not
coping very well. He took a deep breath and let it out. At least
until he was convinced that Kerry would be all right, his plans
were off.