Free Zero-G by Alton Gansky

the corner. He had to be careful. Too close would alert the driver, and she no doubt was packing a cell phone. Too far behind and he could miss the house where the woman and her cargo of children would end their journey. If they parked in a garage, then he would never identify the house.
    The key was patience.
    The SUV slowed and turned into the driveway of a large two-story home. Here’s where the professional separated himself from the amateur. The temptation, almost overpowering, was to look at the target car and its passengers as he passed. He didn’t. He kept his eyes forward and drove on at a speed just a hair above the residential limit.
    Draw no attention to yourself. That was the first and abiding rule for people in his line of work. The second was confidentiality. He was good at both.
    Continuing down the street, he pulled a U-turn at the next intersection, killing his lights before he finished the 180-degree turnaround. He moved down the street thirty or so yards and parked along the curb. An abundance of trees made it almost impossible to see the house, but he planned to pull closer in a few minutes. Give them time to get in the home and about their business. He killed the engine, then drew a cell phone from its place on the passenger seat.
    He punched in a memorized number.
    â€œI have another location for you.” He listened for a moment, then pushed end. He wasn’t finished with the phone. Using the keypad to activate the phone’s menu, he erased the record of the call.

EIGHT
    A round shape on the space side of the bulkhead rose until the whole of it filled the window. A helmet. An astronaut’s helmet rose like the Moon over a horizon, the reflective gold shield mirroring the window. Tuck could see his own face reflected from the curved surface.
    â€œVinny? Vinny!”
    Tuck pressed his face close.
    Vinny’s gloved hand rose and pushed back the protective shield.
    The face. Twisted. Marred. Eyeless sockets. Mummy-like grin. Thin lips screaming, “Don’t leave me out here.”
    Tuck bolted upright in bed. Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes. His heart tripped and tumbled and skipped. A second later, he sat on the edge of the bed, his bare feet touching the oak wood floors. Air came and went from his lungs like a bellows.
    Myra touched his shoulder. “You were dreaming.”
    â€œYeah . . . yeah, I know. Sorry.”
    He had to force the words out. Dream or no dream, it had been real to him. The image of Vinny bore into his brain like a worm into fruit.
    Several deep breaths later, his heart slowed and the pressure in his head eased. “Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind.”
    The bedroom remained dark as Myra crawled across the bed and sat next to her husband. She took him in her arms and he let her. He wanted her to hold him. He needed her to hold him. In any other moment, at any other place, Tuck would have assumed the manly role, telling himself that everything remained fine and he still controlled his future. Not now. Besides, his wife knew him too well.
    â€œThe same dream?”
    â€œYeah. Always the same dream. Different details. Same terror.”
    â€œIt’s been awhile.” Her voice was soft, soothing, her skin warm and welcome against his own. She kissed him on the side of his head.
    He gave her bare leg a pat. “Sorry to wake you.”
    â€œA few extra moments awake are fine with me, as long as I get to spend them with you.”
    â€œI’m afraid your husband is a bit damaged.”
    â€œNot in my eyes.” She rested her head on his shoulder.
    â€œI thought this nonsense was over. I thought I was done with it. It’s been a few weeks since my last one.”
    â€œI know, baby. I know. Maybe it’ll be even longer before the next one. Maybe this was the last.”
    â€œFrom your mouth to God’s ear.”
    â€œIt has been.”
    â€œThanks, kid.” He took a deep breath.