14
It was the nightmare once again that woke Craig Garrett. At first, they came two, maybe three times a week. Now they were occurring every night and had become so much a part of his life that he couldn’t remember when he last enjoyed a full night’s sleep without the terrible images invading his nights. The scenes, vivid and disjointed, flashed behind his eyes in quick succession with very little continuity about them. Sometimes they started from the middle, jumped to the beginning, and then to the end. Other times the whole scene played in reverse.
The sequence was never the same. The only consistency about the dreams was in their reality. They were so real he could feel the hot desert sand through the soles of his heavy combat boots and smell the acrid scent of cordite hanging thick i
