Tired she crawled into bed, making sure the covers stayed below her. No matter how cold it was or she was she learned to sleep on the outside of her covers. Too many men had been killed because they could not get out of their covers fast enough. Laying there staring at the ceiling thinking of Ashley and her brown hair, a tear escaped as she thought about never getting to touch her again. Slowly she laughed quietly when the image of Ashley shoving her fist into her mouth appeared in her mind. Keeping her mind locked on the thought of her girlfriend she fell into a wonderful dream of times to come.

Harsh ragged breath wisps in her ear bringing her from dreamland. Groaning she shifted uncomfortable and opened her eyes to see a man, six feet tall and black hair. Eyes unmoving and scowl plastered to his face stared down at her with a knife held high, blood glistening on it due to the moon light filtering in through the flaps of the tent. Frozen she stared at him. He stared at her. Neither moving afraid something might happen that was not planned. In slow motion a drop of blood slipped from the end of the silver blade falling fast through the air until it plopped right on the blonde’s forehead.

The scene unfroze and he swung the knife down ward to slice her throat. Spencer picked her legs up and kicked him back causing him to fly away. She rolled off the cot quickly and fell into the cot beside her where Jack Winston lay open eyed and drained of blood from the slice to his neck.