But she felt pebbles and gravel jabbing into the soft soles of her feet. The ground was rough, like a street or a parking lot. Her panic accelerated. She was outside the building, and she didn't know where.
Instinctively, she looked at her hands. They were filthy. Not with dirt or mud, but with grime. Grease and foodstuffs. Sticky juices stained her skin, and a piece of lettuce clung to her forearm. She wiped it away and looked around. Brick walls and garbage cans. She was in an alley behind a restaurant, which meant she was more than likely near the square, a couple of blocks from her apartment.
She looked down. Her legs and feet were bare, her skin full of goose bumps. She wore only a long T-shirt and underwear.
"Oh, God," she said. "Shit."
She had had a vision and wandered for blocks, then made matters worse by digging in the trash. She had to slip home. She had no idea what time it was, but she hoped it was late enough that the streets were dark and empty.
Her hopes were almost immediately dashed.
Voices reached her from the end of the alley.
"Jesus."
"Look at her."
"She's fucked up. Goddamn."
Diana looked in the direction of the voices. The light from the street silhouetted the figures, rendering them indistinct and faceless outlines, but she could guess. College kids. Guys back from a night of drinking. And here she was, the crazy lady digging in the garbage, wearing close to nothing.
She didn't know what to do. She stood frozen in place, the remains of discarded dinners oozing down her arms.
A figure detached itself from the crowd before her and came forward. Diana took an instinctive step back, although, ultimately, she had nowhere to go. Behind her the alley was closed. A dead end. She wished she were still a cop, a clothed cop armed with pepper spray and a gun.
"Knock it off, you assholes," the figure approaching her said. "She needs help."
A woman. A college student. She approached Diana.
"Are you okay?" the girl said. "Are you hurt?"
Diana tensed. She didn't want help, didn't want to feel someone else's touch. But the woman's face looked kind, even in the dark. And what choice did she have? Alone and in a deserted alley, she needed a hand.
"Sleepwalking," Diana said.
The guys at the end of the alley laughed. The young woman turned toward them.
"Shhhh." The sound carried a warning edge, and they shut up. She turned back to Diana. "Do you live around here?"
"A few blocks. Down Grant Street."
"I'll walk you there." The woman took off her jacket and draped it over Diana's shoulders. "Here."
"No." Diana tried to shrug away.
"You need it more than I do. Just take it. I can't offer you much else."
Diana hesitated, then let the tension flow from her body. She didn't have a choice, and wouldn't it be nice, she thought to herself, to have someone else to lean on, even if it were a stranger?
She wrapped herself in the coat and followed the woman to the end of the alley. The guys parted and stepped aside without saying a word.
"This way?" the girl said, pointing toward Diana's apartment.
"Yes."
They walked together, and Diana let herself be led home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
After the girl guided her home and left her at the door, Diana couldn't sleep. She didn't want to, and she didn't bother to try. Too much fear of what else might happen and what she might see. But then staying awake meant the possibility of more visions, and she found herself almost laughing as she contemplated the choice between the two. A losing battle no matter what.
In a strange way, however, the experience in the alley and the walk home with the woman she didn't know left Diana feeling the slightest bit liberated. She thought of it as the "Bobby McGee" situation. Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. How much worse could it get really? She shuddered to think and diverted her mind before it started cataloging the possibilities.