Walkers Read Online Free Page A

for Glen, but she was cocooned in blankets and could not move her arms.
    "How do you feel?" asked the gray-haired man.
    "All right, I think. Who are you?"
    "My name's Warren Hovde. I'm a doctor."
    "Hi, Doctor. My head hurts."
    "I shouldn't wonder." The doctor took a silver penlight out of a leather case and shone it into her pupils, one after the other. He nodded, satisfied.
    "Will she have to go to the hospital?" Glen asked.
    The doctor placed a hand on her forehead. The hand was dry and firm, and smelled faintly of soap. "I don't think so," he said. "Keep her warm and quiet tonight, and tomorrow she ought to see her own doctor for a thorough checkup."
    "I'm here," Joana said. "You don't have to talk around me."
    "I'm sorry." Dr. Hovde smiled. "Would you like me to repeat that?"
    "No need."
    "The paramedics are here," someone called from the far side of the room.
    "I'll talk to them," Glen said. He gave Joana's hand a squeeze and made his way to the door. Joana turned her head and saw him talking to two young men with short haircuts and blue uniforms. Glen gestured toward Joana on the couch. She gave them a smile, and everybody seemed happy and relieved.
    "Dr. Hovde," Joana said.
    "Yes?"
    "I don't have a doctor of my own. Could I come to you for the checkup?"
    "If you like." The doctor fished through his wallet for a card. "Call my office before you come in. I'll tell
    my girl to be expecting you. It will have to be in the morning—tomorrow's my afternoon in Emergency at West L.A. Receiving."
    Joana took the card. "I'll call early.
    Some of the people in the crowded room started to move off. The voices picked up to a more normal conversational level.
    "Is there any beer left?" somebody asked.
    "Tnere's a whole tub hasn't been touched."
    "Well, let's go. Get the music started again. It's early."
    Several of the people stopped by the sofa to say a few words to Glen and smile at Joana, and soon the apartment was empty except for the two of them and Dr. Hovde.
    The doctor gave her a small plastic vial of pills. "This is a mild sedative. If you have any trouble sleeping tonight, take two of them. Other than that, keep warm and take it easy."
    "I intend to," She said.
    "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
    Glen walked Dr. Hovde to the door and saw him out. He drew the draperies across the broad windows and came back to the sofa. He sat down on the eclge of the cushion, looking intently at Joana. She worked one of her arms free of the blanket to take his hand. His grip was strong and reassuring.
    "Baby, baby," he said, "for a while there I really thought I had lost you."
    "For a while there you did ," she told him.
    "Can I get you anything? Glass of wine? Coffee? Soup?"
    "Hot soup sounds good. Something not too thick, if you've got it."
    "I'll check."
    Glen went out to the kitchen. Joana readjusted the pillows and laid her head back. She closed her eyes and drew a breath of clean, dry air. Her chest hurt a little, and there was still a faint headache, but nothing serious.
    Joana thought back over what had happened to her. The panic of drowning, then floating out of her body and up somewhere above the pool, the flash scenes of her life, the powerful magnetic pull on her to go...somewhere. Then the tunnel, the shadowy forms along the walls, the pure white light at the end, and the figure—whoever or whatever it was—that sat in the circle of light. She remembered the overwhehmlng sense of peace and comfort she had experienced at first, and how very much she wanted to go to join the seated figure. There was the feeling of sailing at great speed along the tunnel, then suddenly the voice
    calling her back. It had been Glen's voice, she knew now. Once she had heard Glen's voice and hesitated, everything changed. The figure in the light became cold and menacing, the shadow people along walls reached out to prevent her from going back. she had come back.
    She was here.
    Joana knew that something very special had to her. It was no dream.