Cords of tension fell away. Once again, at last, he lived in a world of reality, not nightmare.
He hugged it to him; drew in the chill security of it with gusty, lung-expanding breaths.
The grey glow in the distance spread. Weakly, he sat up to look about him—and stared instead into the pale malevolence of a great, baleful, swaying eye!
He froze, not daring to move or speak.
For the thing before him was the monster of his fever-madness—the eyestalked horror from the dream.
Yet he knew—he knew!—that he had left delirium's valley. This was reality! Without question, the fever had waned and gone.
Then what—?
He had no answer. Not here; not now. He could only wait, and hope, and perhaps pray.
But while he watched, not daring to so much as flick an eye or move a muscle, the thing before him began to eddy slowly closer.
New sweat rilled down Boone's spine. A knot of tension drew tight within his belly.