Falling Awake

had few memories of those first weeks following the explosion. His dreams had been blurred and fragmented. Eventually they began to clear, however, and he believed that he was regaining his Level Five ability. In an effort to speed up the process, his companion began giving him increasingly large injections from their small supply of CZ-149, the experimental dream-enhancing drug produced back at Frey-Salter. But the stuff was not helping much. If anything, the tsunami was growing larger and more violently crimson with each dose.
    A few weeks ago, desperate, he had slipped out of the condo while his companion was gone and contacted Martin Belvedere personally. He knew he could trust the old man to keep quiet. All Belvedere cared about was his research, and Vincent knew he could offer him an interesting case study.
    He met with Belvedere in a small café near the Center for Sleep Research. The location had been Belvedere’s choice. They sat together in a cheap vinyl booth drinking bad coffee while he gave the old man his recent dream reports and told him about the head trauma that had impacted his Level Five abilities.

    Belvedere made copious notes and then he took the information back to his office to study. They met again two days later at the same café. But all the old man had been able to tell him was that the giant red wave was a “blocking” image that prevented him from accessing the gateway dream. Hell, he had already figured that much out for himself.
    “I can’t take this any longer.” He gripped the windowsill so tightly all the blood was squeezed out of his knuckles. “That damned tsunami dream is making me crazy.”
    His companion tapped the tip of the pen against the desktop. “There is one other approach we can try. I just learned about it this evening. That’s why I woke you.”
    He turned swiftly. “What approach?”
    “In the past couple of months Frey-Salter has come up with a new version of CZ-149. They’re calling it Variant A. My informant says it doesn’t appear to have the side effects that the earlier version of the drug has. I’m told that the initial tests have gone very well.”
    “Get it.”
    “That’s the problem. I almost didn’t tell you about it because, to be honest, I don’t know how to get it. There is only a very limited supply at the moment. Most of it is under tight security at Frey-Salter. Lawson gave the rest to the agent who is field-testing it for him.”
    He went cold. “Which agent?”
    “Ellis Cutler.”
    “Bastard. Bastard .”

    There was a dull thud. Pain crashed through his fist. He looked down and realized he had just struck the wall beside the window with such force that he had knocked a hole in it. Bits of painted wallboard lay on the carpet at his feet. There was blood on his hand.
    Rage as red and fierce as the tsunami of his dreams washed over him. He looked at his companion through the crimson mist.
    “Where is Cutler?”
    “A place called Roxanna Beach.”
    He started toward the door.
    “Vincent, wait. You can’t risk exposing yourself. Lawson thinks you’re dead. If he gets even a hint that you’re still alive, he will hunt you down. He has the resources to do it. You know that. You won’t stand a chance.”
    He stopped at the door. Some of the red tide ebbed from his brain. He was shaking and sweating now. He rubbed his temples, trying to think.
    “I have to get the new drug,” he said.
    “I understand. But first we need a plan.”

8
    r andolph stared at the tall, thin man standing in front of the desk, so stunned by the news that the high-priced, forensic accountant had just delivered that he could not immediately react. Webber had to be wrong.
    “Th–that’s impossible,” Randolph finally got out. He was horrified to hear himself stutter. Whenever the old childhood speech problem returned, it was a sure sign that he was under enormous pressure.
    Amelia Netley said nothing but her fine jaw clenched more tightly. She continued to stalk back and forth in front of the windows as she had been doing for the past few minutes, her arms folded beneath her elegant breasts.
    “I’m afraid it’s a fact, Dr. Belvedere.” Webber tapped the fileagainst his palm and looked grim. “It took a lot of time and some very creative work to follow the money trail, but there’s no doubt in my mind that what I just told you is the truth. I can see this comes as something of a surprise.”
    “Surprise? It’s a frigging bombshell. Give me