22
The sound of a big truck accelerating away brought Mickey out of a sleep plagued with nightmares of being tortured on the rack. When he opened his eyes, he realized why. He’d fallen asleep in a chair. Now it felt like a drill was boring its way up his spine to the base of his head. When the Captain had sent them back to the Seymour house, he’d picked the chair for its discomfort factor, hoping it would keep him awake. He’d over-estimated the chair and under-estimated how tired he was.
Inch by painful inch, Mickey straightened out his spine, then took a breather before trying to stand. He heard a snore and discovered Delaney sprawled on a Victorian sofa across from him, his head bent at an angle that would soon make him wish he’d never been born. Another gentle snore issued from his sl
