If We Dare to Dream Read Online Free PDF Page B

When he released her with a surprised gurgle, she swam for the surface laughing. This game of water tag continued on for another five minutes or so while Ford completed dinner. When he finally called them to exit the pool and eat, Jamie was out of breath and her sides hurt from laughing too hard. She wrapped herself in her towel and joined her brothers at the table, suddenly feeling as though life could go on.
    It was nice to laugh again, and good to be home.
    Wait a minute, she thought, good to be home?
    ***
    The echo of a closing door somewhere off in the distance did little to break the tendrils of the dream that snaked out of his memory. He was eight again, sleeping in the small twin bed in the trailer belonging to his mother.
    A terrified scream, the sound similar to someone who has just come face to face with a murderer, woke Andrew in the night. Initially he reached for his constant bedfellow, a stuffed bear that was the last gift he received from his father before he left. Clutching Dexter to his small chest, Andrew lay awake in bed with wide eyes, his ears straining as he wondered what had awakened him. Was it the masked murderer from the scary movie his mother had watched with her friends during Halloween? Was he in the house?
    Before he finished his last thought, another whacking sound reached him from down the hall, followed by laughter and another cry. Andrew frowned. The cry sounded just like his brother Adam. This time the shrieks had developed into the sustained cries of pain. Lifting his head slowly and cautiously so as not to be noticed by any monsters in the house, Andrew looked over to his brother’s crib and found it empty. Where had Adam gone? How did he get out, and why was he crying now?
    Though so scared that his arms could not release the tight clutch on his beloved teddy, Andrew’s protective instincts kicked in. As slowly as he could, he slipped from beneath the thin sheet that covered him and slid to the floor, holding Dexter in one hand against his chest while he crawled to the closed bedroom door. He heard voices on the other side over the continued crying. They sounded annoyed. One of the voices was his mother’s, and he did not like it when she was annoyed. However, he could still hear his baby brother, crying in pain.
    Terrified to open the door and see what lay beyond, terrified to see what had happened to Adam, and terrified of the blows that would surely come when he interrupted his mother while she was entertaining company, Andrew’s shaking hand reached up and grasped the handle. None of that mattered at this moment. He had a job to do.
    He had to make sure Adam was all right. He had to protect Adam.
    The dream shifted in a swirl like the smoke rising from a burning Bradley. Dark wisps curled around his memory, bringing with it the pain and anguish that he struggled to keep at bay.
    Shouting voices, raised in panic, mingled together to form a cacophony of noise. It was impossible to make out who was saying what. The team was losing it. Why? What lay ahead? Had the insurgents found them again? The scent of burning flesh, the cries of the wounded, blood staining his hands, all seemed so far away. In the next moment, his ringing ears were jolted yet again. A blast, so loud that all the noise faded to a high pitched hum, rocked the vehicle, throwing him clear with a burst of pain and a startled cry. He had been hit. He knew he was dead. He stared up at the millions of stars in the black sky until his world turned to black.
    As quickly as the image appeared, it was gone. Though he tried to fight it and escape from the dream, he once again was returned to his childhood. His mother’s gaunt but smiling face appeared before him.
    “You’re my little man of the house,” Lisa said softly, stroking Andrew’s reddened cheek gently. “You take care of us.”
    Though her fingers brushed painfully against the rapidly growing bruise, Andrew stood still and erect. He refused to allow the tears