Desperate Measures

2

“Wake up.”

He felt someone nudging him.

“It’s time to wake up.”

Slowly he opened his eyes.

Jill was sitting next to him, her hand on his shoulder. Her face was washed. Her hair was combed. She looked remarkably alert, not to mention attractive for so early in the morning. “Guess what?” she asked. “You snore.”

“Sorry.”

“No problem. You must be exhausted. I’ve never seen anyone sleep so deeply in such uncomfortable conditions.”

“Compared to a park bench, this is the Ritz.”

“Do you remember switching trains?”

Pittman shook his head. The car was almost deserted. No one was close enough to overhear them.

“You do a convincing job of sleepwalking,” Jill said. “If we hadn’t had to board another train, I bet you wouldn’t even have gotten up to go to the bathroom.”

Pittman gradually straightened from where he’d been scrunched down on the seat. His back hurt. “Where are we?”

“A few miles outside Montpelier, Vermont.” Jill raised the shade on the window.

Although the sun was barely up, Pittman squinted painfully at a line of pine trees that suddenly gave way, revealing cattle on a sloping pasture. Across a narrow valley, low wooded mountains still had occasional patches of snow on them.

“What time is…?”

“Six-fifteen.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any coffee left from last night.”

“You’re dreaming.”

“In that case, wake me when this is over.”

“Come on,” Jill said. “Straighten yourself up. When this train stops, I want to hit the ground running.”

“Are you always this energetic so early in the morning?”

“Only when I’m terrified. Besides, when you’re used to working the night shift, this is late afternoon, not morning.”

“Not for me.” Pittman’s eyes felt gritty, as if sand had been thrown into them.

“Let me whisper something that might get you going.”

“It better be good.”

“Breakfast, and I’m paying.”

“You’re going to have to, since I don’t have any cash. But I’ll say this-you do have a way with words.”