Chapters (41)
- Dexter in the Darkby Jeff Lindsay
- IN THE BEGINNING
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
"No real progress yet, Captain," Deborah said.
"Well, I'm sure you'll get this thing wrapped up before the press-I mean, in a timely fashion." "Yes, sir," she said.
"All right then," he said again. And he looked around the room once, squared his shoulders, and left the room. "Heads don't float," somebody else said, and a small snort of laughter went around the room. "Jesus," Deborah said. "Can we focus on this, please? We got two bodies here."
And more to come , I thought, and the Dark Passenger quivered slightly, as if trying very bravely not to run away, but that was all, and I thought no more about it.
NINE
I DON'T DREAM. I MEAN, I'M SURE THAT AT SOME POINT DURING my normal sleep, there must be images and fragments of nonsense parading through my subconscious. After all, they tell me that happens with everyone. But I never seem to remember dreams if I do have them, which they tell me happens to nobody at all. So I assume that I do not dream.
It was therefore something of a shock to discover myself late that night, cradled in Rita's arms, shouting something I could not quite hear; just the echo of my own strangled voice coming back at me out of the cottony dark, and Rita's cool hand on my forehead, her voice murmuring, "All right, sweetheart, I won't leave you."
"Thank you very much," I said in a croaking voice. I cleared my throat and sat up.
"You had a bad dream," she told me.
"Really? What was it?" I still didn't remember anything but my shouting and a vague sense of danger crowding in on me, and me all alone. "I don't know," Rita said. "You were shouting, 'Come back! Don't leave me alone.'" She cleared her throat. "Dexter-I know you're feeling some stress about our wedding-" "Not at all," I said.
"But I want you to know. I will never leave you." She reached for my hand again. "This is forever with me, big man. I am holding on to you." She scooted over and put her head on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I won't ever leave you, Dexter."
Even though I lack experience with dreams, I was fairly sure that my subconscious was not terribly worried about Rita leaving me. I mean, it hadn't occurred to me that she would, which was not really a sign of trust on my part. I just hadn't thought about it. Truly, I had no idea why she wanted to hang on to me in the first place, so any hypothetical leave-taking was just as mysterious.