The smell of brewing coffee woke Jared. He heard footsteps and for a few confused seconds he thought that Juliana was in the house, puttering in the kitchen. If he could just talk her back into bed for a tender half-hour…Then a chatter of strange voices rolled down the hall and he remembered.
Juliana was gone. Sultan was gone.
His bed was warm; he didn’t want to leave it. Part of him longed to ease into patienthood and be waited on, coddled and fussed over. He grimaced and pulled himself up. His rib bandage had slipped loose during his nap and he felt like a mummy. The fabric trailed off him as he sat on the side of the bed.
At first it sounded like rap music, some teenager’s thumping car stereo but then it got louder and Jared recognized the whuppa whuppa whuppa of a helicopter.
Fucko
