Interlude Operation LAZARUS (Agent Jude)

It’s been two months since operation Lazarus.  The scars have finally rendered themselves “uninfected”.  Whatever I had been scratched with must have been down in that tank rotting for decades.  The doctor’s said the only thing they had seen that causes such a festering wound in such a short period were alligator bites.
Work seemed okay with it, Christmas break dramas between me and my hunting habits.  Some of the guys knew about my cabin, they knew I liked to disappear into the wilderness for days on end.  Light duties for a while. Pills. Can’t forget the pills.
Charlie took some more convincing, it’s not every day that your partner ends up looking like they have gone 10 rounds with a bear in the ring.
The nightmares, they are still here.  Closing my eyes, when I hit that deep sleep cycle, she is there, the old woman, digging into my chest.  If it’s not her, it’s that fucking spider. That giant, fucking, spider, its eyes, a woman's eyes, they are burned into my brain.  What the hell was that thing?
I keep searching in the night for my weapon. The nights I wake up from those dreams, I always wake up clutching my 40 cal.
Pills. Take the pills, that’s all there is to give me a good night’s sleep.  The doctors can’t be told what happened, I’d be out of a job, most likely in a loony bin somewhere.
Charlie, she doesn’t need to know, she doesn’t even stay overnight anymore. Her rules, not mine, probably a good thing. I don’t want her to hear my midnight ramblings.
Take the pills. They won’t hurt, relax the mind.  It doesn’t even slow me down, just takes the edge off. Another month and I should be back to full duties, the doctor said that the scars won’t fade in a hurry, but full mobility and muscle tissue should be almost back to normal, then its just a week or so of stiffness.
I wonder if J-Cell has been back together? Should I use the phone they gave me? I wouldn’t be much use anyway - well maybe not.  The doctor went nuts and the old guy, well, he’s old.  I wonder if the spider bite killed him?
Shame, there seemed to be a soul under all that 1970’s tough guy routine.