Chapter 2
Pill Hill—Portland OR, July 2005
“Which floor, bud?”
Mason couldn’t move or speak.
“Buddy? You okay?” Parker moved toward
Mason’s wheelchair.
“NO!” Mason put up a hand to fend Parker
away.
“Uh, sorry, guy. Um, look, I’ll uh, just
press the button for the eighth floor, which is mine. Then you
press your own, okay?” The expression on Parker’s face was a
mixture of surprise and slight amusement.
Mason could feel his heart pumping rapidly in
his chest. He’d also broken out in a cold sweat. In a disconnected,
far away sense, Mason knew his actions must seem very strange.
Obviously Parker didn’t recognize him.
The elevator began to move upward. Just
hold it together, not long now, Mason told himself, though he
remembered Parker was getting out at his floor, too. Mason
