Double Image Read Free Page B

managed one last lucid thought.
    Then why have I been taking ugly pictures for such a long time?
     
5
     
    HEARING A RUMBLE, he woke in alarm. His first panicked thought warned him he was about to be smothered by an avalanche. But the moment he raised his head, trying to move, the pain that radiated from his left side almost made him pass out. The rumble increased. As his consciousness fought to clear itself, he understood that he had to be wrong, that the ridges here weren’t steep enough for avalanches. Besides, the rumble seemed to come from
below
him rather than from above. It didn’t make sense. What was causing the noise?
    Find out
. Spots swirled in front of his eyes as he placed his hands on the ground, barely aware of the fir needles under his knees. He crawled from beneath the snow-covered boughs, the glare of sunlight off drifts nearly blinding him. The air was shockingly cold, pinching his nostrils.
    When he squinted below him, he feared he was hallucinating, unable to make himself believe that he was on a hill above a road, that the rumble came from a convoy of tanks that had NATO markings. He wobbled like a tightrope walker, struggling for balance as he waved his arms and waded as fast as he could down through snowdrifts, which wasn’t fast at all, but it didn’t matter, because the lead tank’s driver had seen him and was stopping, soldiers jumping out as he fell and tumbled to the bottom, the soldiers blurting German as they rushed to help him.
    Three days later, against a UN doctor’s orders, he was on a plane home. From hell to the City of Angels.
     

TWO
     
1
     
    AS COLTRANE TWITCHED FROM A NIGHTMARE that was indistinguishable from the trauma of his wide-awake memories, he seemed to have been running forever. He fell from the impact of the bullet that shattered his camera, rolled desperately to avoid Ilkovic’s line of fire, and flinched as hands grabbed his shoulders, pushing him.
    A moan escaped him. His eyes jerked open in a panic, the hands continuing to press him down, a gentle voice whispering, “Ssshh, it’s only me. It’s Jennifer.”
    “Uh.” Sweat slicked him. His chest heaved.
    “You’re home. You’re safe.”
    “. . . Uh.”
    “You were having a nightmare. I had to grab you before you rolled out of bed.”
    Coltrane’s heart hammered so fast that he feared it would burst against his ribs. His tongue felt dry and thick. “. . . Jennifer?” In the shadows of what he now recognized was his bedroom, he peered up at her. Still disoriented, he seemed to see her through an imaginary viewfinder, framing her lovely oval face, her light blue eyes, and the dark worry behind them. His gaze lingered on her appealing curved lips, her smooth tan cheeks, and her short blond hair that resembled corn silk.
    His heartbeat no longer made his chest feel swollen. At last, he seemed to be getting enough air. He eased back onto his pillow.
    “Here.” Jennifer reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. Adjusting a straw, she placed it against his parched mouth. He took several deep swallows, luxuriating in the wonderful coolness, ignoring the drops that rolled down his chin.
    “Guess I’m the last person you expected to see, huh?” Jennifer asked.
    Coltrane didn’t know what to say. The last time he had seen her was six months ago when they had broken up.
    “Daniel sent for me,” she said.
    Coltrane nodded, the motion aggravating a headache. Daniel was a friend who lived in the town house next door.
    “When you showed up at his place this morning, you really spooked him. He took care of you during the day, but he’s working nights at the hospital, and he needed somebody to watch you.” Jennifer smiled awkwardly. “He phoned me at the magazine.” She hesitated, then made a mock salute. “Nurse Nightingale reporting. Unless you can find somebody better, I guess you’re stuck with me.”
    “I can’t think of
anybody
better.”
    Jennifer’s smile was now filled with