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metropolis, and he had spent quite a few years since college
finding that out. Poverty wasn t new to him. He had grown up
as an orphan and only managed to go to college on an urchin
grant from some stranger or business in a Nation bordering the
Shawnee Nation. The donors were never revealed, but anyone who
got a grant knew it was an attempt to make them productive,
law-abiding citizens before they abandoned the Shawnee Nation
like most eventually would. The chance to go to college had
turned him around so the program was apparently working at
least somewhat.
The view began to change as they neared St. Louis, Sioux
Nation. Gradually, the giant fences tapered off and the towns
grew in size and prosperity. The transformations were as
unmistakable as the abrupt changes he had seen as they drove
out of the Forest. By the time they neared the inter-Nation
bridge, there was probably little difference between the Sioux
and the Shawnee sides. Clearly, the best area on the Shawnee
side surrounded the Eastern Intertribal Council complex at
Cahokia, a long abandoned native city. The wealth in this
small area easily matched that in any other Nation, but then,
the wealth was coming from other Nations along with their
tribal representatives. Cahokia had become a virtual utopia in
comparison to the rest of the Shawnee Nation.
When they made it al the way into St. Louis, the car
hunt turned out as well as Matt could have ever expected.
Looking in a large city in a much wealthier Nation greatly
increased the selection. After two or three stops, he found
the car he couldn't do without.
On the way home in his new car, Matt was in an even
better mood than before. Porsche's seemed to have a way of
doing that to people, old or new. Terry felt happily secure in
119
their deal, and their conversation carried on non-stop. They
were both riding high in the clouds, and it would take some
serious trauma to bring them down.
A day later, the effects of seeing the man in black were
still savagely eating away at Marcus. It still all seemed so
impossible. Sure, some of his dreams had actually happened in
the past. But they had happened before he had the dream, not
afterwards. And none of them had come close to being this bad.
There was something extremely wrong with it all, and he
couldn't put a finger on it no matter how hard he tried. The
man, or was it just a dark figure...whatever it was it was
horrible, and he needed to know what it meant. He felt like he
was having a breakdown, and he hoped like hell it was
reversible. What was he going to do? Their marriage couldn't
stand another knock like his coma. And the figure...it was
going to appear again. He could feel it. But why, why was he
so sure of it? He had never been as sure of anything since he
had met Nikki. He had been sure of her. That was a good thing
though. This...this was something else. It could come from
anywhere. He had a hard time even walking through his own
house at night now without crumbling in fear. And where would
it end? Where would the nightmare end?
Immediately after falling asleep, Hedda found herself in
the same place she had been for the past five nights. She
continued to be boggled by the cumulative nature of the stupid
dream. And now she was in it again. The procession slowly
came through the cemetery. The huge vapor eyes appeared and
began to stare at her. The hooded figures closed in on her,
and then her father revealed himself. From that point, the
dream had progressed a little further every night. Various
people, people she had never seen before, began to be unhooded.
But the significance hadn t yet surfaced. There had to be a
reason for it. Why else would she have the stupid dream so
many times?
This time, from the depths of the darkness, a figure
120
appeared. It was something new, she thought in the dream, as
the dream seemed to roll on in front of her eyes. The figure
didn't belong there, and yet it did. The feeling was
unexplainable. As the dream continued on, in a sudden and less
explainable impulse she yelled at the dark figure.
"You, over there in the darkness, make yourself known to
me!"
Amazed by the formality of her own atypical speech, she
regretted her stupid behavior immediately as she usually did
when she behaved like an idiot in a dream. Hedda dove back
behind the tree line to wait for her punishment. But like the
past few times, the dream wasn t going any further tonight and
its vividness began to fade slowly. Fighting it in every way
she could, she tried to keep from waking up. The figure had to
be significant. She was sure of it. But then the dream was
gone, and she found herself half awake lying in bed with Ray.
A safe place to be, she thought. Better than the old cemetery
in the dream at any rate, and that made waking up a good thing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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