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NIGHTMARE WORLD
Danny felt like he was swimming through thick fog, thick, pain-filled fog. An eerie silence surrounded him, filled his mind, numbed his senses, froze his heart. He reached out, feeling for something, anything. Where is this? Why am I here? How . . .? He had to define boundaries, discover where he was and how he got there.
He touched cold, concrete walls. The dizziness and disorientation increased. A cellar? A tunnel? He listened for a sound, any sound: the roar of surf, the rustle of trees in the trade winds, the blare of traffic, the shuffle of footsteps, anything, nothing. He wrapped his arms around himself as the cold dampness penetrated his aching body. Aching? He felt a trickle of blood meander down his face, discovered tender, bruised ribs. Beaten? A prisoner? Where?
He slid to the floor, huddled against the freezing wall, slipped into darkness. Steve? Is he a prisoner, too? No answers, only question after question, uncertainty after uncertainty.
A harsh voice pulled him back to reality, the sting of a rough slap serving as punctuation.
"Who is Papa Bear?"
Danny spat blood as a rabid Major Hochstetter backhanded him again.
"Bah! Sergeant Carter, once more: Who is Papa Bear?"
"I told you, I don't know. My name's Williams, not Carter!"
"Carter, Williams, I don't care. We have ways of making you talk." He motioned to another officer. "Put him in the isolation cells. When Papa Bear comes to rescue him, we will have our man."
The floor was frigid. Danny pulled himself upright, only to find his head swimming. He felt himself falling, a hand grabbing his shoulder . . .
"Danno! Wake up! That must be some nightmare! Go home!"