“Angel, Keep your eyes open. The informant said we’d know him when we see him.”
“Copy that, Civic.”
Darkness filled the room and smoke seeped from the vents. Someone was trying to make visibility near impossible. Nehemiah switched to his night vision goggles. He was perched just inside of the furnace room in the back of the hotel’s ballroom. He counted 22 hostages and four shooters. The smoke was making it difficult for Nehemiah to keep his eyes on the target.
“Angel, come in.”
“We have a friendly to your 9 o’clock.”
Nehemiah heard her voice before all hell broke loose and shots rang out.
Nehemiah sat straight up in bed, drenched in a full sweat. Like every other night, the terrors woke him up at the same moment in the dream. He relived that tragic event, night after night. Why him? Why her? He always questioned himself. Nothing could change the past, but the dreams continued to come.
Like clockwork, he went into the kitchen of his one-bedroom apartment in Portsmouth, VA and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He sat in front of his television, but never turned it on. Nehemiah wanted to close his eyes, but every time he did, he saw her face, her eyes, and her blood.
Draining the contents of the bottle, he went back into his bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Face to palms, he sat there for a few minutes, feeling weary.
“Come back to bed. It’s cold under these sheets,” a soft feminine voice said.
Nehemiah needed to stop this philandering he was doing. His actions went against every principle and every value he was raised with.
“I’ll be right there,” he responded.
What was her name? He couldn’t remember her name or where he met her. Yeah, it was time to change his lifestyle.