“Androcles Thurlow, it began with a telephone ringing in the night.Thurlow’s fumbling hand knocked the receiver to the floor. He spent a moment groping for it in the dark, still half asleep. His mind held trailing bits of a dream in which he relived the vivid moments just before the blast at the Lawrence Radiation lab which had injured his eyes. It was a familiar dream that had begun shortly after the accident three months ago, but he felt that it now contained a new significance which he’d have... to examine professionally.Psychologist, heal thyself, he thought.The receiver gave off a tinny voice which helped him locate it. He pressed it to his ear.“Hullo.” His voice carried a rasping sound in a dry mouth.“Andy?”He cleared his throat. “Yes?”“This is Clint Mossman.”Thurlow sat up, swung his feet out of the bed. The rug felt cold against his soles. The luminous dial of his bedside clock showed 2:18 a.m. The time and the fact that Mossman was the County’s chief criminal deputy sheriff could only mean an emergency.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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