Then the meaning of her words crystallized, but still made no sense. Through an ocean of pain, questions bombarded him. Why was he sleeping? Why was the bed so hard? Why was he so cold? He couldn’t come up with any answers without forcing his eyelids open. It took a few seconds to focus on the wooden floor inches from his nose. Then reality crashed in on him. The sound of the gunshot. Crawling across the clearing. Pain. Bear all but dragging him up the steps and across the porch. Now he was on the floor of the cabin, lying on his side, using his arm and shoulder as a pillow. He looked up and saw Cassie bent over him. Josh blinked—but she was still there. He hadn’t been dreaming this time. How could Cassie be here? “Cassie? Is that really you?” She nodded. “It’s me, Josh.” “How?” “Never mind about that now. Where’s all the blood coming from?
