Minutes or hours later—he couldn’t tell anymore—he did doze. Oh, it felt good, but as he rolled over to snuggle deeper beneath those weighted coverings, he experienced a trapped, claustrophobic sensation. Not so good. Then a moment after, a sharp, burning pain just above his tailbone nagged at him.

The brandy deadened his nerves and mind somewhat, so the aching didn’t fully rouse him. Half-asleep, he told himself to get up more often from his desk. A good idea too because walking calmed him and might help with the desires.

He awoke a few hours later with an orchestra of agony shooting up and down his right leg. The alcohol-dulling effect had now dissipated, so he bore the full brunt of what he could only describe as a nest of fire ants crawling under his skin. Panic erupted in his confused mind.

Thankfully, his training kicked in and he managed to calm his thoughts by assuring himself the likely diagnosis was a pinched nerve. Damn though, it burned deep. He grabbed at his hamstring and massaged the ache but found the contorted position only inflamed the throbbing.

Shepherd climbed from his bed, limped to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. He shoved more than he should into his mouth and washed them down with water drunk direct from the tap. He was uncertain of making it to the kitchen for a glass.

Now that he’d stood, he noted a soreness around his groin also. When he reached below to massage the muscle, he detected a small lump below the skin. That was new! And disturbing!

Something felt wrong, and he sensed an unknown thing had invaded his body. The scene from the seventies Alien film flashed in his mind; a hellish creature exploding from a crew member entered his imagination, except this time it was him. The thing bursting, not from his chest but from his nether regions. This image so horrific he felt his legs go weak.

He managed to limp back to bed and climb in, still writhing in pain despite the medication. He debated calling an ambulance, but after a few more minutes, the painkillers kicked in and helped a little. First thing tomorrow though he'd be seeing a doctor, though he sensed what the answer might be.

He’d studied enough in med school to recognize possible prostate cancer symptoms. Twinges of something down there had bothered him leading up to tonight but nothing as painful as this. This was a worrying development, but one good thing, it had wiped away his mind’s focus on Nem. Now he had something new about which to worry. At that thought, she was back in his head again.

God, he just needed to sleep and tomorrow everything would seem a whole lot better.

Finally, the world slid away, and Shepherd jumped over the imaginary fence, following all the words he’d sent that way earlier in the night. As he turned his dream head to marvel at his agility to leap so high, the girl’s words flew by him, jiggling and jangling as if they laughed at him.