Dog Days

Chapter 103

Later that evening, after I take my meds, I sink down into the sheets and start to process the events of today.

He's curled up next to me, peacefully asleep. All I can think about is how he said we'd be home, next Thursday. It's already Saturday, so I have no I begin to do the math.

If you're going to get home, Thursday evening, that means we would be there around six, and I know we have to gather his belongings in DC, so that's about two and a half hours from home, more with traffic. And given that it's around three that we would be leaving, we would definitely hit traffic. I'm guessing it would take, at least, an hour, there. That means we'd get there around two in the afternoon. And my guess is that we'll be flown to DC, so that's another hour in the air, not to mention New York traffic and traffic from the landing field to his place. So, at the latest, we would have to leave DC by noon to even think about making it home on Thursday.

Then I remember that he has security footage that he watches in his lab. I start to realize he knows that I wake up around noon, due to the sedative.

Whatever he's planning, he plans on doing it before I know he's gone. He wants me to stay here, completely out of harm's way.

He wants me, here, while he takes this new strain of anthrax to hand it over to them, the people that held him hostage for almost three months and almost killed him.

Either way, I don't trust it, one bit.

Anything could go wrong.

They can kill him. They could take him, again. And will he have any type of backup plan?

What happens if they get away with the anthrax? Is that his plan? To just give them the anthrax? Does the government support half of the world dying?

Does the government even know?

The sickening thought that he might be committing treason weighs heavily on my mind.

It has for the past few weeks, despite his repeated reassurances.

What are the odds I wake up, only to find out that he's dead?

I know they would kill him, if they suspected him of treason.

Is it all part of some deal? Am I overthinking it?"

These anxiety driven questions bubble around in my brain, so violently, I feel like they're slamming against my skull.

I know I have no place putting myself in his path, and I honestly question my place in New York.

Part of me thinks I should turn back, now. I should go right back down to my commune, and wait for him. Part of me wonders if he's even going to be coming home with me.

I wonder if he'll still love me when he's free. Does he actually want to go back to the commune, with me?

Am I just someone else he'll never see, again?

Is he just going to disappear, and not give a shit about the kill switch?

If he steps a foot out of line, will it give The Grandmaster reason to destroy the last of the beauty I have in this world?

I begin to fear that I will lose him. I fear I'll be returning home, all alone.

And, although I know I have absolutely no place intervening with whatever he has planned, I know I'm not letting him do it, without me.

As the city light casts into the windows, it illuminates his face as he lays on top of me.

The electrical glow shines a blue hue over his face, similar to the last night in Jordan. The night before the explosion.