"Weisman Drive. Know it?"

"Yep. We're almost there. Suburban area, just north of town. Y'got friends there?"

"Yes." Nick grinned inwardly. That is, he thought, I hope she's a friend. h.e.l.l, I don't know whether she hates my guts, or loves me ...

but she's the only one that can help. A frightening gloom fell over him suddenly.

Andy lapsed again into silence and the sound of the motor became loud.

Nick continued to ponder the strange men and the woman he was coming home to, but it was like bashing his head against a wall. He could remember nothing. And, through his thoughts, the memory of the dream returned to him. It was the most vivid dream he had ever had, almost as though it was real.

Abruptly Andy brought the car to a stop before a sign that read, "Weisman Drive." Nick thanked him and climbed out onto the road. The old man waved and the car spat cinders as it roared back onto the highway, heading toward the town. For a moment, he stood there watching Andy's car fade into the night, then he began walking along the road, looking for 2312 Weisman Drive and trying to ignore the feeling of fear that welled up within him.

When he finally found it, he saw that it was a two story place that looked to be white frame, trimmed with a darker color that was probably blue. In the off light from the street lamp, it was difficult to tell.

There was a garage built alongside and a good sized lawn in the front, but there was no evidence of children. A light in the front room told him that someone was home - likely Beth - and caution told him he'd better make sure no friends were with her.

He slipped quietly up on the porch and looked briefly into the window.

Beth was there, sitting on the sofa reading a book. Her hair, he noticed, was brown with a reddish cast to it and she was every bit as beautiful as the picture he carried in his hip pocket.

He knocked on the door.

It occurred to him, after he had rapped, that this was his own house.

Why should he rap? But what was done, was done. He waited until she had opened the door and stood looking at him. He tried a smile, but Beth Danson's eyes widened in shock and her lips parted in astonishment.

"Nick," she whispered, as though she had seen a ghost, and fell to the floor in a dead faint.

Stunned, he stepped over the crumpled body of the woman and walked into the room. When he had closed the front door, he lifted her limp body and laid her on the sofa. He began patting her face and hands to revive her, wondering what the h.e.l.l he had done to cause her to faint.

Why the devil was she so shocked to see him, he wondered. Is she in love with another man and did they rig that plane so it would crash to be rid of me? If they had tried to kill him, he could d.a.m.ned well see why she had fainted at the sight of him. The rings on her left hand bragged that she was married, probably to him. But why faint?

He was trying to decide whether to stay or run, when her long lashes fluttered and she came to. Again her greenish eyes dilated in astonishment, but this time she did not pa.s.s out. Her soft arms slid about his neck and she pulled him down to where she could kiss him. Her warm lips caressed his face, kissing his mouth, his cheeks and his eyes, while she murmured his name over and over in absolute joy.

Had news of the crash reached her? Did the authorities find the wreck and presume him dead? Was that why she had fainted and was now so overjoyed at having him back? His mind whirled with a hundred questions that his stunted memory refused to answer, and he decided to take it easy, waiting for her to make the first move.

"Oh, Nick," she murmured against his ear. "Where have you been?"

"I don't know. I've been in a crack up, Beth. I can't remember anything..."

She pushed him away, suddenly, looking at his face. "Darling! Your face!

You're hurt!"

"Just scratches," he told her swiftly. "Nothing serious. Beth, you've got to help me. Please!" He felt strange. It was like asking a total stranger for help, and he was ashamed and confused.

"Of course I'll help you, darling. I'm your wife. Now come out to the kitchen where I can patch you up." Suddenly she burst into tears and held him close. "Oh, darling, darling! It's so good to have you back!"

He held her until she had stopped crying, then he allowed himself to be led into the kitchen where she began applying iodine and bandaids to his scratched face. Weariness was again dragging at him like some clutching demon that threatened to drag him down into a bog of darkness. He studied her, trying to take his mind off his lethargy.

Beth Danson was about twenty-five and, besides her deep auburn-brown hair and lovely face, she boasted an equally attractive body. He found himself captivated by the warm thrust of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath the silk blouse. The clear milk of her flesh, at the "V" of her throat excited him in a strange way. When he thought of her as his wife, it was frightening. It was as though someone had tossed him a woman and expected him to just fall into the routine of marriage. It wouldn't be hard to come to love this woman, but it would take awhile. h.e.l.l, he didn't know her. She was a complete stranger who had suddenly told him they were married. There was nothing familiar about her; even the fingers that were softly working over his face were alien.

Alien! That's it! The whole d.a.m.ned world is alien, and I don't know who I am, who I've been...

"Beth?" He asked suddenly, "how long have I been gone? You act as though it's been a long while..."

"A long while, darling."

"How long?"

She looked steadily at him for a moment, her eyes deep with seriousness.

"Thirteen months," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Thirteen months! He relaxed heavily in the straight backed chair and stared at her dumbfoundedly. Over a year! Where had he been? What had he done? Why hadn't he been located before now?

"Thirteen months," he croaked, unable to say anything else.

She nodded. "Oh, Nick, every police agency in the country has been looking for you. I've had detectives out hunting. Nolan Brice has been doing everything he can to locate you. But they couldn't. No one could.

It was as though you had disappeared from the face of the earth."

"Nolan Brice?" Nick asked.

"Your best friend..." When she realized that he knew nothing of the man, Nick could see her starting to cry. Her eyes began filling and he could almost see the hopelessness within her.

"Please, honey. Don't start crying again."

"I'm trying not to."

He rose to his feet slowly, his head starting to thump and thunder again, and took her into his arms. It was kind of difficult, trying to comfort her the way a husband should, but he tried.

"Listen, Beth," he whispered against her cheek. "It'll all come back to me. It'll all come back eventually and I'll remember. But for now ...

for now, you'll have to bear with me. I don't know where I've been, or what I've done, so don't tell anyone I'm here. Please! Don't tell a single soul! No one!"

"But why, Nick?"

"Because I could have killed someone. I could be a thief, a desperado or something. I don't know. I could even have gotten married..."

"Oh, darling!" She collapsed on his shoulder and began crying violently again.

"Honey, honey! I didn't say that's what I've done. It's just that I don't know. Whatever I am, I can take my medicine, but I want to know what it is first. You've got to understand that."

She tried a smile, blinking back the tears that lay close to the surface, and he forced a smile to pull at his mouth. It was difficult to comfort her, yet he knew that it was his duty to do so. She'd been through a h.e.l.l of a lot, _and_ she had the memories of it. He did not.

Despite the alien feeling that was welling within him, he knew that she was the only person who could help him return to himself. Whether he loved her or not was immaterial; he needed her desperately to show him to the man he was. Perhaps it would all come back then.

"I'm sorry, Nick. I'll try to help."

"Thanks, honey."

"Hungry?" She asked brightly, moving to turn the flame on under the coffee pot. At his nod, she went on: "There's some apple pie and I can whip up a couple of sandwiches, or something."

"Coffee and pie is fine."

"In a way, it'll be like courting all over again," she told him, in an attempt at lightness. "It's terrible to lose the things we had, the memories. I can't share them with you anymore. But we'll make a whole lot of new ones to take their place."