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"No!"
he sat straight up in bed, sweat soaked, heavily breathing, and
calming down only slowly. Too slowly. He felt Eliza's hand on his
arm.
"What's wrong? she
inquired.
Damnation! It was more
than five years ago and he still jerked out of sleep from time to
time.
"Zachary?"
He
wouldn't tell her. She deserved better, having her own memories
to deal with.
"It's
nothing, Love. Just a bad dream," he forced through clenched
teeth.
He hadn't told anyone. It
was one of the few issues he'd ever voluntarily lied about in a
report.
The five hours before
his psychocrystallization.
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