Purgatory, West Virginia
March 26
Finn groaned and rolled from side to side, the images in his mind disturbing and disconnected. He felt pain, fear, desolation, but not his own. Tearing himself from the nightmare, he opened his eyes. Lying on his back, drenched in sweat, Finn tried to make sense of the dream. His right arm was draped across his abdomen. He followed the line of his left arm up and saw it was gripping the base of the headboard. Tilting his head, he looked at the carving upside down—the maiden, the knight, the forest, the elves, and demons. He was suddenly seized by the unshakable sensation that Charlotte needed him.
Tearing the covers off, Finn swung his legs off the bed and stood. He stopped. Shit, he wasn’t ready. He had only taken a few steps on this strange path. He glanced over his shoulder at the headboard; the knight halted from progress by the three-headed dragon, the maiden in distress.
What had May been saying all this time? The road to recovery lies in reaching out, not withdrawing. Suddenly he knew; whatever this was, it was part of the process. Without further introspection, he shoved his legs into his worn jeans, laced up his boots, and headed for the door. God, he hoped Bud had done enough work on the truck that it could make the trip.
It started smoothly, giving Finn hope he could drive through the night and get to Charlotte by morning.