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and you kept muttering, 'The mountain, the mountain.' What mountain?" |
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Cyrus blinked slowly several times. He did vaguely remember something about a mountain, about an icy wind and a big yellow moon. But the details were fuzzy. |
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"I don't know. You know how dreams are. What about you?" |
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She stretched again. "I don't remember much. Something about a nun trying to get me to do something. Probably my homework." |
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Cyrus noted the way the T-shirt pulled tight across her breasts. |
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"What's the matter?" she asked. |
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Cyrus held a damp facecloth to his neck to staunch the blood. "Some bodyguard. I almost cut my own throat." |
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"Should have been watching what you were doing." |
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He felt his face flush but didn't reply. |
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Later, as he was taking the last suitcase out to the car, the telephone rang. |
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"Mr. Trigg? It's Dr. Barton," the voice on the phone said. "I hope I didn't call too early, but you said you were leaving today." |
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"No, it's okay, Doc. We were just about to hit the road." |
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"Good. How are you feeling?" |
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"Fine. I beat my best time on my morning run by over twelve minutes." |
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"Great. The reason I called is to talk to you about the results of your blood tests." |
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Cyrus felt a tickle of alarm in his stomach. |
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"It's nothing to worry about, really," the doctor said, correctly interpreting Cyrus's silence. "But something strange did show up." Barton waited for a response and, receiving none, plunged on. "The lab found a foreign organism in your blood." |
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"Foreign organism? What exactly does that mean?" |
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"It's not rabies, but . . . well, to tell you the truth, they can't |
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