Vengeance Borne Read Online Free PDF Page A

drugs?” Her voice rang clear in his imagination as if she were standing right beside him. “You’re not crazy. You have the sight!”
    Micah massaged his temples in an attempt to erase the memory of his mother’s chiding words. He’d lived with her superstitious Romany crap all of his life. He pushed himself off the bed and shuffled down the narrow hall separating the bedroom from the rest of the RV, peering out the window above the kitchen sink. A three-quarter moon rose above the stand of trees in the distance. He should have known. The visions were always clearer when the moon was about to reach its zenith.
    Micah took a step to his left and opened the small refrigerator door. The light bathed his body in a golden halo as he rifled through the narrow shelves for water. Pulling out a cold plastic bottle, he held it to his throbbing forehead for a moment before cracking the seal and taking a sip. A second glance out the window revealed a darkened landscape made more eerie as moonlight filtered down through the trees. The bushes looked more like goblins ready to pounce than simple foliage. And the trees, giants holding their arms aloft to the sky. He turned his back to the window, and the cursed moon that brought him nothing but misery. A distant cry reverberated through the trees and a familiar chill swept over him. Bringing the bottle again to his lips, he drained it in a couple of gulps, and tossed it in the sink, the hollow thud drowning out the faint cry that echoed in the distant woods.
    Probably just coyotes .
    Damn, he was exhausted. Micah returned to the plush memory foam mattress but sleep wouldn’t come. The dream woman’s face loomed in his thoughts. His mind raced and his muscles ached, the effort it took to suppress the emotions swirling within him almost unbearable. Anxiety congealed into a tight knot in the pit of his stomach and he felt flushed and overwhelmed, unable to escape the one thing he needed to find peace: himself. He flung the constricting covers from his body and turned on every light in the RV. Checked the time on his cell, two o’clock in the morning.
    He turned on the TV and said a silent thank you for satellite television. Twenty-four hour programming was an insomniac’s best friend. But channel surfing only added to Micah’s frustration and it didn’t take long before he abandoned his search for mind-numbing entertainment. A sketch pad and charcoal pencils were tucked in a cubby above the dining table and he brought the notebook down, flipping it open to a blank page. He picked a few of the pencils from a bundle bound with a rubber band and began to feather out the shape of the dream woman’s face. Within minutes he’d sketched her perfectly from her soft russet complexion and mysterious pale green eyes to her dark, curling hair. He even managed to capture the furrow of her brow and darker area on her chin where the bruise had been. The dream woman stared back at him from the paper, her expression no less haunting.
    “Who are you?”
    Micah waited, as if the black and white sketch would answer back. He traced a finger along the delicate lines of her face, pausing at the cut he’d drawn on her cheekbone. “Fucking dreams,” he muttered, tearing the page from the spiral and crumpling the paper into a tight ball. He tossed the paper somewhere toward the driver’s seat and stalked back to the bed, pausing at the dresser. Several prescription bottles peered up at him from the paper-lined drawer, and his hand hovered over them for a moment. He swore and snatched one of the amber plastic bottles from its resting place, popped the top and shook three white pills into his hand. He’d told himself he was done with the drugs. But if he’d really been done, he wouldn’t have brought them along, would he? Fuck it. He placed the quick dissolving pills under his tongue, flopped back on the pillows and threw the covers over his head.
    Gift my sorry ass .
    Great thing about the