dirt and blackening blood from feet worn raw with wandering in
this barren wilderness.
Helen felt clear, bright fear. She backed away from them compulsively,
cutting her bare feet on the rocks and scratching her
legs on the thorns. The three abominations took a step toward
her, and their shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Drops of
blood fell from under the skeins of rank hair and ran down the
fronts of their dresses. They whispered names while they
cried
their gory tears.
Helen woke up to a slap. There was a prickly numbness in her
cheek and the steady note of a dial tone whining in her left ear.
Jerry?s face was inches away from hers, wild with worry, and starting
to show signs of guilt. He had never hit her before. He had to
take a few shaky breaths before he could speak. The bedside clock
read 3:16.
?You were screaming. I had to wake you,? he stammered.
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Helen swallowed painfully, trying to moisten her swollen tongue
and closed-off throat. ?S?okay. Nightmare,? she whispered as she
sat up.
Her cheeks were wet with either sweat or tears, she didn?t know
which. Helen wiped the moisture away and smiled at her dad, trying
to calm him down. It didn?t work.
?What the hell, Lennie? That was not normal,? he said in a
strange, high-pitched voice. ?You were saying things. Really awful
things.?
?Like what?? she croaked. She was so thirsty.
?Mostly names, lists of names. And then you started repeating
?blood for blood,? and ?murderers.? What the hell were you