present. “You can go,” he said to Faisal.
When he was alone, he stood and charged at the heavy bag, disregarding the pain in his hand. The bag swung hard, creaking on its anchor in the ceiling joist. He hit it again and again, each blow punctuating the images flashing in his mind. He spun on his foot and drove his heel into the bag in a savage roundhouse that swung the bag almost to the ceiling before crashing back down and nearly sent him sprawling.
Something bothered him about that morning. He’d seen signs of psychological trauma before. The way something from the past could well up like sewage from a storm drain and stain the present moment, crowding out all other thought. It was in Jennifer’s eyes.
Elliot grabbed her hair on purpose. He knew it would trigger her. Jacob was too tired to hit the bag anymore. Furious energy melted into cold, ragged fatigue. He drifted over to his desk, sat down, and rested his forehead on his palms. He needed to focus to see the bigger picture.
Jacob took an old micro tape recorder from the top drawer. He kept the message by forwarding it from phone to phone, before finally recording it a few days before he was deployed. His thumb pushed down the red play button and he drew his hand back and listened to his sister’s voice.
“Hey, Jake,” she teased in her girlish voice, “I hope you had a good time with your stupid video game. I made sure Mom and Dad took me to Olive Garden just like always. I didn’t buy you anything for Christmas. I hope you’re happy.”
His mother said something. His sister’s phone didn’t pick up the words, just a faint hint of her voice.
“Mom says to hang up. We’re almost home.”
6.
Shearing rock and twisted steel shrieked. Debris crashed into the river and sank. The noise came from the boards under her feet, and from the walls. The kitchen television blared until the speakers distorted and the little grilles blew out of their plastic frames in a shower of sparks.
A driving rainstorm sent a muddy wave through the street. Jennifer clutched the old sliding doors between the kitchen and living room.
The world shook and red, blue, and amber flashed in the window as the sirens wailed. The freezing wet floor stung her bare feet. The world turned under her until she fell on her side with a grunt. Dread clenched in her chest like a fist of frozen stone grasping her heart.
Open the door. The dream would end when she opened the door. None of this was real. The past couldn’t harm her, but the dream refused to end. All the windows in the back of the house blew out at once in a hail of glass that sent razor shards skittering over the floor.
The door opened. The wind carried the rain, snow, and icy hail sideways. Her dress caught on a crooked nail and tore at the seam. Sobbing, she clutched the tatters, but the dress unraveled in the wind. The front windows all burst out, spreading glass through the air in a glittering fan.
Running was her only defense, but no matter which way she ran, the bridge was always there. In the distance she could see the old skeleton of interlocked triangles and steel chains that formed a jagged mouth. Taillights transformed into red and hateful eyes. The metal twisted and bent, then snapped apart with a great twanging sound.
“Jennifer!”
Franklin’s voice cut through the roar. Great gasping sobs froze on her cheeks as the snow thickened around her ankles, and bloody footprints trailed behind. Her skin turned brittle from the cold. She didn’t want to wake up anymore. She might reach him.
The bridge contorted, and the overhead struts slammed down. Their little red Honda folded up under the beam. Franklin’s pale frozen hand reached out for her.
Jennifer leapt forward with both hands outstretched, but her fingers slipped through his without touching. She could feel the heat of his skin as the roar rattled her bones, and she was thrown backwards.
Waist deep snow sucked the warmth from her body and
When he was alone, he stood and charged at the heavy bag, disregarding the pain in his hand. The bag swung hard, creaking on its anchor in the ceiling joist. He hit it again and again, each blow punctuating the images flashing in his mind. He spun on his foot and drove his heel into the bag in a savage roundhouse that swung the bag almost to the ceiling before crashing back down and nearly sent him sprawling.
Something bothered him about that morning. He’d seen signs of psychological trauma before. The way something from the past could well up like sewage from a storm drain and stain the present moment, crowding out all other thought. It was in Jennifer’s eyes.
Elliot grabbed her hair on purpose. He knew it would trigger her. Jacob was too tired to hit the bag anymore. Furious energy melted into cold, ragged fatigue. He drifted over to his desk, sat down, and rested his forehead on his palms. He needed to focus to see the bigger picture.
Jacob took an old micro tape recorder from the top drawer. He kept the message by forwarding it from phone to phone, before finally recording it a few days before he was deployed. His thumb pushed down the red play button and he drew his hand back and listened to his sister’s voice.
“Hey, Jake,” she teased in her girlish voice, “I hope you had a good time with your stupid video game. I made sure Mom and Dad took me to Olive Garden just like always. I didn’t buy you anything for Christmas. I hope you’re happy.”
His mother said something. His sister’s phone didn’t pick up the words, just a faint hint of her voice.
“Mom says to hang up. We’re almost home.”
6.
Shearing rock and twisted steel shrieked. Debris crashed into the river and sank. The noise came from the boards under her feet, and from the walls. The kitchen television blared until the speakers distorted and the little grilles blew out of their plastic frames in a shower of sparks.
A driving rainstorm sent a muddy wave through the street. Jennifer clutched the old sliding doors between the kitchen and living room.
The world shook and red, blue, and amber flashed in the window as the sirens wailed. The freezing wet floor stung her bare feet. The world turned under her until she fell on her side with a grunt. Dread clenched in her chest like a fist of frozen stone grasping her heart.
Open the door. The dream would end when she opened the door. None of this was real. The past couldn’t harm her, but the dream refused to end. All the windows in the back of the house blew out at once in a hail of glass that sent razor shards skittering over the floor.
The door opened. The wind carried the rain, snow, and icy hail sideways. Her dress caught on a crooked nail and tore at the seam. Sobbing, she clutched the tatters, but the dress unraveled in the wind. The front windows all burst out, spreading glass through the air in a glittering fan.
Running was her only defense, but no matter which way she ran, the bridge was always there. In the distance she could see the old skeleton of interlocked triangles and steel chains that formed a jagged mouth. Taillights transformed into red and hateful eyes. The metal twisted and bent, then snapped apart with a great twanging sound.
“Jennifer!”
Franklin’s voice cut through the roar. Great gasping sobs froze on her cheeks as the snow thickened around her ankles, and bloody footprints trailed behind. Her skin turned brittle from the cold. She didn’t want to wake up anymore. She might reach him.
The bridge contorted, and the overhead struts slammed down. Their little red Honda folded up under the beam. Franklin’s pale frozen hand reached out for her.
Jennifer leapt forward with both hands outstretched, but her fingers slipped through his without touching. She could feel the heat of his skin as the roar rattled her bones, and she was thrown backwards.
Waist deep snow sucked the warmth from her body and
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