1.
The dream came again.
It was the third dream in as many days. Normally I don’t dream. Normally I close my eyes and sink into an eternal darkness, and don’t awaken until the persistent blaring of my alarm clock pulls me out of whatever black chasm I had descended into. Sure, I might have major issues, but insomnia isn’t one of them.
Except sometimes I do dream. I dreamed of Kingsley and the ruby-rose medallion last year. I’ve dreamed of Fang before, especially prior to meeting him. Not so much anymore.
And now, for the past three days, the dreams with the girl. I have no clue who she is. Young, cute, dressed in a waitress uniform, sitting on a bus bench, just prior to a runaway city bus obliterating her. The same dream. Over and over.
Now, as I sat up in bed, gasping, blinking hard as my alarm blared on the bedside table next to me, I saw her broken body again. Hell, I could even smell her blood.
Jesus.
Waking up in the middle of the day was hard enough. Waking up in the middle of the day to images like that was just plain unfair. So I sat there for a few minutes, rubbing my face, listening to the alarm, seeing her broken body, smelling her spilled blood. And through the pulsating alarm, I could hear her cries…until she could cry no more.
Jesus.
I got out of bed. Time to do some chores, then off to pick up the children. In the living room, where the window shades were always drawn tight, I automatically turned on Judge Judy.
2.
I was sitting in my minivan, parked on the side of the road.
Sundown was minutes away, and I was feeling anxious. The way I always felt just before the sun set. Excited. Relieved. Impatient. Desperate. Incomplete.
I forced myself to calm down.
Not an easy thing to do. Not at this hour.
I was on my way to see Detective Sherbet. He had a case for me. A big case. Someone was leaving dead bodies around Fullerton. Bodies drained of blood.
My son was heavy on my heart, but I was able to console myself with the knowledge that he seemed so…comfortable with who he was. And why shouldn’t he? He was just a growing boy, a boy who happened to be stronger than everyone else at his school. Sure, he might think he was a little freaky. But this was a good freaky, wasn’t it?
I nodded and wiped a tear that had somehow found its way to my cheek bone. “Yes,” I whispered. “A good freaky.”
I was going to have to tell him. I knew that. He had to know.
“He has to know,” I said to no one.
I was parked along Harbor Boulevard. Not too far from mine and Kingsley’s favorite restaurant…and not too far from Heroes, either, where Fang worked. I checked my watch. Yup, he would be working now. Just around the corner. Serving drinks and dreaming of becoming a vampire. Fang, with his freaky teeth hanging from his neck.
Lots of freaky going on here.
3.
I was parked on Amerige Street, facing east.
In front of me, maybe twenty feet away, was Harbor Boulevard, which ran north and south. Diagonal from me, across Harbor, was a familiar bus bench and a u-shaped hedge. It was the same bus bench and hedge I had seen in my dream. I was sure of it.
Seeing it had surprised me, so much so that I stopped my minivan and just stared.
The same bus bench. The same hedge. Minus the dead girl.
I knew Harbor like the back of my hand, but, during the dream, I hadn’t been aware that it was this bus bench, on this section of street.
What the hell was going on?
I didn’t know, but I decided to wait out the final few minutes of the day. Hell, I might as well be firing on all cylinders when I met with Sherbet in a few minutes. Didn’t hurt to have a clear mind when discussing a serial killer.
So I waited. And I watched.
I knew the sun was inching closer to the horizon without having to look at it. I always knew where the sun was. Always. Just as I knew it was sitting on the far horizon, slipping slowly away.
Too slowly.
I made fists in my lap. Two small, white, knobby fists. I saw the sun in my mind’s eye. Orange and burning. So beautiful that it hurt. Halfway above the horizon. Now a quarter. Slipping ever lower.
Hurry, hurry.
I opened my hands, closed them again.
And then it happened. Actually, two things happened simultaneously:
First, the sun dropped below the horizon and relief flooded my system. The night was truly my drug.
Second, I saw her.
The broken girl from my dreams.
Sitting down now on the bus bench.
4.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking.
My position on Amerige afforded a perfect view of the bus bench along Harbor, where cars zipped up and down. A few pedestrians, too. Downtown Fullerton was a happening, vibrant place, filled with banks, coffee shops and restaurants. The local congressman had an office here, too, which sort of added to the air of coolness.
Except I wasn’t thinking about the congressman or the fact that I hadn’t had a coffee in nearly seven years.
I was trying to decide what to do.
Unlike someone I know, I never asked to be a vampire. And I never asked to be saddled with the many side effects of vampirism, either. One such side effect was enhanced extrasensory perception. Or ESP. Over the years, this ability, this psychic ability, had grown stronger.
But so far, I had never been able to predict the future. Or even see the future.
Until now.
So, as I sat in my minivan, I was beginning to get a very bad feeling. I suspected things were about to go very, very badly for the young lady sitting on the bus bench.
Unless, of course, I helped.
I drummed my fingers some more, watching the girl through the windshield. She was now leaning back on the bench, looking down at her cell phone. As comfortable as could be. As peaceful as could be. She was cute and petite. Maybe even smaller than me, although I had her by a few pounds. Normally this would be cause for some minor jealousy, but I wasn’t feeling any jealously now.
No, I was worried sick.
Interestingly, I have warning bells that alert me to danger…but danger only to myself. Not to others. Presently, my inner alarm was quiet as the grave.
Maybe my dream was wrong.
Maybe.
Except everything looked the same. The same girl. Same bus bench. Same street. Same surrounding bushes. The only thing that was missing was the out-of-control bus.
It’s coming, I thought. And it’s coming soon.
The girl on the bench suddenly laughed and appeared to text something rapidly on her phone. It was a similar laugh I had heard in my dream. I had seen all this before. Three different times, in fact.
And it was not going to end well for this young girl.
No, it was going to end very, very badly.