But Liz kept running even though her heart felt as if it would explode. Feeling the hot animal breath on her heels, she kicked furiously. “No! Please . . . no!” She tried to cry out the words, but nothing save for mute gasps seemed to come from her lips. “Liz.” The voice did not come from the pursuing hounds. Something touched her, but it was not rough teeth trying to tear her apart. The touch was gentle and warm. “Liz, you are having a dream.” She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the towering figure of Rev. Sinclair. Then she looked down at the hand still resting on her shoulder. It surprised her that his touch could be so gentle. He’d always seemed to her to be intimidating, imposing, harsh . . . but never anything close to gentle. “I g-guess I w-was." She was shivering, partly from the nightmare, partly from the wet clothes she still wore. But despite the fact that she was now fully awake and realized she had been dreaming, she thought she had not wakened into a situation much better.
