<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><strong>Emily</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><strong>On the deck</strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><strong>Susan tending to her</strong></span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">The hands were there again.  Touching her.  The voice.  Tension this time.  Stress.  Why?  What was happening?  She had no idea; no vision; no control.</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Her gun!  Did Susan need it?  It was right there, in her back.  She’d tell her…</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">“Uh..uhh..uh…”  she couldn’t!  Couldn’t…</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">...she faded again.</span><br/><br/>