This was worse than they thought.
Nothing was safe.
NOTHING.
AT.
ALL.
* * * The Blackhawks * * *
The Jet
En Route
Monday Afternoon
Finally, she’d fallen asleep, but unfortunately for Elizabeth, the dreams chased her. In them, she was stuck in that sports car, watching Jet die over and over again.
For the life of her, Elizabeth simply couldn’t get out of that loop.
It was non-fucking-stop.
Each time, she tried to intervene, and each time, it went bad.
LikeREALLYbad.
At first, it was Jet who died, and then it was everyone elseBUTher. It was like her brain was trying to punish her over and over again.
It was almost too much.
Finally, on the last attempt to stop it, she couldn’t take it anymore, and she screamed.
It was feral.
It was painful.
And it did what she needed.
It pulled her from that particular dream, and she found herself standing in the middle of the street in a completely different one.
Oh, and it was worse.
All around Elizabeth, she recognized the people who were passing her by.
They were all the victims of each and every one of her cases. She was surrounded by the dead, and the knowledge that each one had died and she couldn’t help them.
Oh, she’d solved the cases, but they’d still lost their lives.
“What the hell?” she asked, touching her head. “Please wake up. Please wake up.”
Only, she didn’t.
This dream had her by the balls.
Then, she heard him.
“Hey, Baby Girl.”
