My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the
law of thy mother. Proverbs 1:8  Nick found himself staring down
at his own body, lying on the floor with a stake through the
chest. Next to Natalie who was frighteningly still. He turned
and saw LaCroix, frozen above his body and face contorted in
pain.  He stared more keenly. No one was moving.  Everything was
still. Time had stopped.  In the space between two heartbeats,
he was no longer in the loft. Sand now squelched between his
toes, the roar of the surf pounding the nearby shore echoed in
his eardrums and the sun smiled kindly on him rather than
burning.  He slowly looked around, getting his bearings. He was
at some seaside resort, a stretch of beach fairly deserted for
the time of day (early afternoon, was it?). There was a young
woman with dark hair clothed in a white shift. She was seated on
an equally white bench (although its paint was beginning to
peel) with a grass-laden sand dune behind her, and a boardwalk
further beyond.  Under t