Tuesday, May 10, 2011

I had a dream. I was beneath the waves, rolling gently, dark and blue. Above me, a storm was brewing, the clouds growing black and angry, aggressively striving against the last rays of a setting sun. The wind was picking up and howling, foreshadowing the terror the waves would become. But deep below, in my santcuary, in this water, I was serene. I was calm. I was smiling. Nothing could touch me.

When I woke up, it was there. Not close, but there. Watching. Waiting to steal again. But it didn't matter. The weight of the dream still sat on my shoulders and nothing mattered. A flutter of movement jerked my gaze away from the Thief, and I saw Sara's arm settling back into place. I went to look back at our stalker but then... Holy shit, Sara moved. She moved on her own. She's always needed someone to guide her: into walking, eating, drinking, changing... everything. I've never seen her twitch. I looked into her eyes, hoping to see something there. But her face was still blank, empty of everything, her eyes dull and lifeless. I turned back to where I'd seen the Thief but nothing was there any longer.

JD is lucky. Charlie was able to get in touch with a friend of his - a doctor or a nurse or something - who was able to patch JD up well enough to keep him alive without us actually getting to a hospital. Beyond that though, Charlie has been showing even less warmth toward the group than usual. Ever since the attack, our follower has been with us, sometimes far off, sometimes close enough to throw a rock at. We've been on the move constantly. We're driving as I write this, Alexis and her crew leading the way simply because they've been in the area longer, but none of us really know where we're going. Kal is lost in his head, Thomas is worrying over JD who is growing angrier by the day and I've already talked about Charlie.

But Sara moved. I don't why, but maybe it's a sign that we're doing something right.



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