She does not know where.Please, nighthawk! I must see her, talk to her.Reach out to her. Answer her call. She waits. Seek her. You will find her waiting. Nighthawk faded from his vision. A faint call came from a far place. Graydon, frantic, urgent, fearing for her, focused on that dim, far voice. ... need you ... pain ... cold ... help us.Marilee! he cried. He soared forward, the dreamscape rushing past. He saw in the darkness, two forms huddled together under a blanket lying on a filthy floor in a stall. He hovered, casting about to see a location. Nothing but darkness. He could see nothing surrounding the vision.Marilee! he cried again. A small, frightened girl rose to meet him, hovering. Her arms were bound at the wrists; her ankles bound tightly together. An ugly gash reached part way across her knee.Graydon! You came. You heard! Oh, my love... You are hurt! he cried. Where are you? We will come. Do you know where?No, she cried. We were drugged. We woke up here in this place. I. If you don’t want to, it’s alright . . .” Her words trailed off. I heard disappointment in her voice. “No, listen. It’s a slow night. I’ll leave early, nine o’clock. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?” After a pause she said, “I was hoping I could come to your place.” My heart skipped two beats. “Sure, sure. That’s fine.” I gave her directions and my address and told her to call me when she arrived in the parking garage so I could meet her. I spent the next two hours in a whirl of anxiety, barely able to focus on work. My mouth was dry and my hands were trembled. I ran home, like a guy in a Hollywood romance trying to stop the girl he finally discovers he loves before she gets on that plane that would take her away. I cursed the sluggish elevator, paced to and fro, until it at last it arrived at the top floor. In my apartment I began to put some order to the chaos. I put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and made the bed. I gathered up several books that were on the coffee.
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