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"I just needed…to be held for a second. My head is all out of sorts still. Like I've been drugged. Do you know the feeling?" Yes," Kenneth said. He'd felt the same way since the train. Kathleen, he saw, was on the verge of passing out, her eyes swollen and red, and he suddenly did not want to disturb her. Instead he let her fall asleep on his lap, watching the sun rise higher and higher in the sky outside, vanishing overhead as it neared and passed noon. He looked at the sun more than he should. It hurt, of course, but that was okay, because when he was looking at it he was finally able to forget about the burning red eyes of the creature from the train.Eventually Kenneth got up, laying Kathleen on the bed. He closed the blinds and got his phone. Though he remembered it ringing earlier, there was no missed call message. He called the office; Teena was pissed about him not showing, but he talked her down, played sick, worked over her sympathies. When he hung up, he spent a long time. The first thing I saw was that the tray from the fax machine had hit the floor again. It was poorly designed; some of the hooks that held it in place were just plastic, and one had broken off on the right side. It still worked, mostly, but it was easy to knock loose. I'd meant to get Henri to look at a fix. I was pretty sure he'd be able to come up with some Cajun ingenuity. If not, I'd have to call for a replacement, if a replacement could be found, or...Then I saw her, and my heart stopped for a moment, or maybe it was time itself that ceased. It felt like a squirrel ran down my back, and then my chest felt like it was squeezed in a vise, and my legs turned to concrete. Saralinda was in the far corner of the office, huddled in a tight ball, rocking, and insensible. There were tears smeared on her face. In her hands was a crumpled page or two from the fax machine.After two or three beats of my heart didn't happen, I could move again, though it felt like there was a hole in my chest.
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