It was the dream again. A dream I had experienced so many times that it should be an old friend. Sometimes, I regard the familiarity of the dream as at least an old acquaintance. The dream always starts out the same, I am in a jungle. A jungle that is both dark and colorful. I am usually dressed in jungle fatigues and armed with an M-16. Sometimes I am in the jungle naked and unarmed. In this sequel to Out of the Jungle, Gideon battles criminals, crooked lawmen and PTSD