Andrew Milligan was running.
He was in a dark forest. In his right hand, he held a useless flashlight, drained of power. On his head, his construction helmet bobbed up and down with each of his strides and each of his stumbles. Gnarled branches pulled at his worn work clothes from all sides like long, withered hands endevouring to slow him down.
His memories were a jumble, a flash of images too quick to understand. A big city reflected in a rear-view mirror. A woman and a boy inside an empty house. A construction site filled with noise and strange faces. The moon shining down on an old, rusted car. Beautiful music that called to him and begged him to come.
He could hear the music now as he ran. It was just ahead, deeper into the forest, a captivating symphony promising comfort and protection. He longed for it. He knew that if he could reach the source of the music then he would be safe from whatever was chasing him.Read More