I drifted off thinking about happiness, birth, new life. But now I was haunted by a vision of — he was horrible! — a lone biker of the apocalypse; a man with all the powers of hell at his command. He turned day into night and laid to waste everything in his path. He was especially hard on the little things, the helpless and the gentle creatures. He left a scorched earth in his wake, befouling even the sweet desert breeze which crossed his brow. I didn't know where he came from or why. I didn't know if he was dream or vision, but I feared that I myself had unleashed him. He was the fury that would be as soon as Florence Arizona found her little Nathan gone!