Chapter Nineteen
Nathan
It was a dream, all jumbled memories propped up like a strange stage. I searched for the exit but I was trapped; there was nothing to do but watch. I sat back in the shadows of my subconscious and watched as the bank in Topeka appeared.
The scene was tight, all of us crowded together in the basement room. I held the safety deposit box but couldn't move. The gunmen were there, blocking the door. Behind them my squadron commander was yelling orders. Each bark made me jump but I couldn't respond.
"Now. I said now!" my squadron commander shouted, his authority like a bull-whip across my body.
The gunmen blocked my way. I knew I could push through them, get past, and go back to life on the base. But something held me back.
In the corner, huddled against the wall of safety deposit boxes, was the little girl from the photograph. She held out the postcard to me but said nothing.
I took it, dropping the safety deposit box, dropping everything, but when I reached out my other hand to take hers, she disappeared.
"Maggie? Maggie?" I cried.
Then I heard Bree's voice. We were outside of the bank but everything was wrong. The gunmen were approaching, straight from my memory of the event, but Bree was gone.
"Nathan?" she called.
Bree was on the roof of the bank, waving her hands at me frantically.
"Bree? No!" I held up both hands, petrified that she would fall.
"You have to do more, Nathan," Bree called down. "You can't just ignore it. You have to do something!"
She was so adamant, so determined for me to hear her message, that Bree slipped. She slid down the roof and tumbled over the side. The fall took forever, my heart stopped in panic, my body frozen in the frustrating non-response of the dream.
Bree fell directly into the arms of the gunman, and I realized again that I recognized him. He knew my name, knew the deal that had been made, but now I knew him, too.
Everything dropped away, leaving only a large warehouse. The man I knew was slipping on his dark suit coat, talking to me over his shoulder in Spanish. I couldn't catch his words, only his familiar smile. He smiled all the time, the way a wolf curls his lips back to show his teeth. He loved his job, and I was part of it.
"What? What are you saying?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Adrian. His name was Adrian.
I woke with a jolt, my heart almost jumping out of my chest. We were safe, Bree still curled against me in the backseat of the maroon sedan. Pale sunlight was starting to reach through the branches that concealed us and soon we'd have to get back on the road.
I shifted and Bree smiled in her sleep.
Visions of her straddling my lap jumped back to me with a wave of heat. No wonder I had felt relaxed enough to sleep and dream. And that's why I had remembered.
Adrian. How did I know him?
The certainty broke away as the dream faded and I woke up fully. I remembered the gunman, he was familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on how. Why would I know a man like that? What had he been trying to say to me in the dream?
Then I remembered the rest, my squadron commander’s orders and Bree telling me I had to do something. And little Maggie looking so sad and lost.
I sat up. What was I supposed to be doing?
There was no answer, just the long stretch of blank days. I still didn't know what I had done, much less what I was supposed to do.
Bree stretched and opened her eyes. "Good morning?" she asked.
I tried to wipe the worried frown off my face. "Looks like it. It was a good night, too."
Bree sat up, combing her fingers through her hair. "Did you get some sleep? I hope it helped. The doctor said if you relaxed and got some rest that you might start remembering things."
I yanked my shirt over my head, hoping that Bree couldn't see my face. How could I tell her what I had remembered? I wasn't sure if it was true, but I was connected the gunman. I somehow knew the man who had threatened her life and tried to use her as leverage.
"I'm not sure I would call sleeping on the backseat of a sedan rest," I said.
Bree giggled. "Well, I slept like a log and I feel great."
I forced a smile and kissed her. "Me, too."
At least that much was the truth.
"Good, because I'm starving. I know we're on the run and all but the least we can do is hit a drive-thru or something, right?" Bree asked.
As she pulled on her clothes and talked about what fast food chain had the best breakfast, I made a decision. Bree didn't need to know anything that I wasn't a hundred percent sure about.
Until I could confirm the gunman following us was named Adrian, there was no reason to assume the dream meant anything. I was still tired, under a lot of stress, and still recovering from my injuries. All I could do was hope that when my memory came back, it would show me that I could still live with myself.
I still wanted to be the man Bree thought I was.
"Ready to go?" she asked with a bright smile.
I nodded and started us down the road. It didn't matter that I had no idea where we were going. Bree was with me, and that would make all the difference.