Free Out of the Dark by Sharon Sala Page A

then took her hand and pulled it toward his lap.
    Jade felt the force of her scream coming up her throat before it became sound. She was no longer thinking Rafie’s name, she was screaming it aloud.
    “Raphael! Raphael!”
     
    Jade was crying in her sleep. Raphael woke with a start and was reaching for her before his eyes were completely open. She had crawled to the edge of the cot and plastered herself against the wall; her eyes were open, but he could tell she didn’t see where she was—only where she’d been.
    He grabbed her arm, shaking her awake.
    “Jade. Jade! Honey, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
    Jade choked on a sob and then crawled off the cot and into his lap.
    “Oh God, oh God,” she whispered, then buried her face against his neck.
    Suddenly there was a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. He looked up. It was a Red Cross volunteer by the name of Charlie.
    “Is she ill?” Charlie asked.
    Raphael shook his head and pulled her closer. “No, she just had a bad dream,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”
    “Maybe she has a fever,” Charlie said, and started to extend a hand. Jade ducked, then rolled back onto her cot out of his reach.
    “Sorry. She doesn’t like to be touched,” Raphael said.
    Charlie sighed. “I understand,” he said softly. “However, if either of you need any medication, just let me know. There’s a doctor up at the office who’ll be here at least until morning.”
    “She’s fine,” Raphael said. “We’ll try not to cause any more disturbance.”
    Charlie grinned as he looked around. “Are you kidding? It sounds like a buzz-saw convention in here already. Try to get some rest, okay?”
    “Yeah, thanks,” Raphael said.
    Jade looked at Raphael and then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene. I was—”
    “Shh,” Raphael said, and then brushed a tangled lock of her hair away from her face. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that we’re no longer in danger of winding up at the bottom of the Mississippi.”
    “I’m sorry we came here,” Jade said. “This is all my fault.”
    “No. It’s no one’s fault. I wanted to come here, too, remember?”
    Jade frowned. “No you didn’t. You just let me have my way.” Then she shoved her hands through her hair and scooted closer so that their conversation wouldn’t disturb their nearby neighbors. “I’m sorry, Rafie. I’m sorry about everything. All I do is cause you trouble.” Her voice started to shatter, but she made herself focus. What she had to say should have been said years ago. “I am a grown woman. I will get past this…this…crap, so help me God.”
    Raphael leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
    “It wasn’t crap, baby, it was criminal. Don’t ever belittle yourself. I damn sure don’t, okay?”
    She sighed. “Okay.”
    He smiled. “Good girl. Think you can go back to sleep?”
    “I don’t want to sleep,” she said.
    Raphael frowned. “You were dreaming about one of them, weren’t you?”
    She hesitated, then nodded.
    “Who?”
    “The one who called himself Uncle Sugar.”
    “Is his face in the box?”
    “No,” Jade said.
    “Then in the morning, you draw it and put it with the others. Remember, if you put it on paper, then you don’t have to remember what he looks like anymore.”
    “Yes. Tomorrow. I’ll draw his face tomorrow,” Jade said, then lay back down on the cot and tried to relax.
    Drawing the faces was a mental exercise in exorcising the ghosts. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
    She watched as Raphael lay back down on his cot and then scooted as far back toward her as he could. She slid her arm across his waist and then spooned herself against his backside. Despite her fears that the nightmare would return, she slept dreamlessly through the rest of the night.
     
    It was five minutes after nine o’clock when Luke turned his rental car toward the building at the end of the