She tried to think back to the first dream she’d had, the one where she’d been driving a Beemer and had outrun the train at the crossing. It had been the middle of the night and she didn’t think much about what time she’d woken up, but could it have been the same? Could it have happened at 3:59?
Josie’s heart fluttered in her chest. She was having weird dreams, always at the same time. Was she going crazy? Was it just a coincidence?
There is no such thing as coincidence
, she said to herself.
There must be a logical explanation. This is a pattern, so it must have a reason.
“Calm down,” she said out loud. “Just calm down and you’ll figure it out.”
The words had the desired effect. Josie’s breathing began to normalize. Her pulse slowed; panic and fear ebbed from her mind.
3:59. One minute to four. What was the connection? She just had to think. What was she usually doing at that time? Homework in the library. Hanging out with Madison. Driving to work . . .
Josie groaned. On Monday, she’d gotten stuck behind that train. At 3:59. It was the exact moment her life started to spin out of control. Her brain must have locked on to that time, like it was the last moment of happiness she was ever going to have.
Josie flopped back down onto her pillow and yanked the comforter up over her head. Even her subconscious was sabotaging her. Still, the fantasies of a Nick who still loved her and who gave a necklace to
her
instead of to Madison were alluring. Josie snuggled into the covers. Maybe she’d just live in those dreams and forget real life altogether.
It couldn’t be worse.
3:59 A.M.
She can feel the dry grass beneath the blanket, practically each individual strand as the weight of her body presses them flat against the ground. Some are thicker than others. Weeds, most likely. Maybe a dandelion or two. But cushy nonetheless, like a pillow from Mother Nature.
She stretches her arms over her head and arches her back. She loves the warmth of the late afternoon sun, and the tickling breeze from the east. She feels so content, so alive, so blissfully happy.
She hears a crunching of grass, and rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. Silhouetted against the afternoon sun, Nick strides across the field.
“Thanks for coming,” she says.
“Of course,” he says with a tight smile. He sits down on the blanket and eyes the picnic basket and thermos of lemonade. “You didn’t have to do all this, Jo.”
“I know.” She sits up and opens the picnic basket, removing sandwiches and potato salad. “But I wanted to.”
She pours lemonade and hands Nick a glass. He doesn’t drink it.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
He nods slowly but doesn’t look at her. “How’s your mom?”
“Fine,” she says after a suitable pause.
“Do you . . .” His voice trails off. “Do you ever wonder what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” It’s true and yet it’s not.
He still doesn’t look at her, but his voice is soft. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He puts the untouched lemonade down on the blanket, leaning it against the basket. “Look, there’s something I need to say to you.”
She catches her breath. “Yes?”
“Jo.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I—”
Josie never heard what Dream Nick was going to say. She bolted upright in bed, wide-awake, as a blood-chilling scream echoed through her house.
ELEVEN
4:00 A.M.
“NOOOOOOOO!”
Josie’s heart thundered in her chest. “Mom?”
“Get off me!” her mom shrieked from her bedroom.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Get off!” Her mom’s voice cracked. “I don’t know what you’re talking ab—”
She screamed again, a piercing cry of pain and fear, followed by the sounds of a struggle and something smashing against the floor.
“Mom!” Josie leaped out of bed, and sprinted across her room and down the hall. A high-pitched shriek froze Josie in her tracks. Muffled and distant, it sounded like an animal, definitely not Josie’s mom. The unexplained attacks flashed into her mind. Could the police have been right? Some kind of exotic cat killing people in the night? If so, how the hell did it get into the house? And how was she going to save her mom?
Josie grabbed a vase off the table in the hallway. Maybe she could distract the animal long enough to get her mom out of the house? It was the best plan she could think of as she barreled into her mom’s bedroom and flipped on the light switch.
A single bulb illuminated the room, instead of the usual two; one lampshade had been knocked askew, exposing the bare bulb. The matching lamp, which had stood on the nightstand closest to Josie’s mom, lay broken on the floor. Josie blinked, her eyes adjusting to the bright ball of light before her, and through the fluttering of her eyelids, saw her mom alone in bed. Her eyes were clenched shut, her arms flailing around her as if trying to fend off an unseen assailant.
“I don’t know!” her mom repeated, her voice a mix of panic and pleading. She paused, then spoke again more frantically as if in answer to an unspoken question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She gasped, her arms frozen above her; then she rolled up into the fetal position, covering her head with her arms. “No! No, please!” she sobbed.
“Mom?” Josie dropped the vase on the bureau and dashed to her mom’s side. “Mom, are you okay?”
Her mom continued to roll from side to side, pawing at the air. “Get it off! Get it off me!”
“Mom, it’s a dream. It’s just a dream.” Josie reached out her hand and laid it on her mom’s leg.
Instantly, her mom sat up, gasping for breath like a woman drowning. Her eyes flew open and looked frantically around the room, wild and unseeing, finally settling on Josie.
“Josephine,” she said breathlessly.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes.” Her mom ran a hand through her dark, wavy hair, which hung lank and damp in her face. Josie noticed for the first time that her mom was drenched in sweat. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“You were screaming,” Josie said.
Her mom looked up. “Was I?”
Josie nodded. “Screaming and crying, and you were fighting with something that wasn’t there.”
“I see.” Her mom sat for a moment, staring into the dark hallway silent and lost, as if she’d forgotten Josie was in the room. “Did I say anything?” she said at last.
“You said ‘Get it off me’ and ‘I don’t know’ like a bazillion times.”
Her mom slowly turned and looked at Josie. Her cool, collected demeanor was back. “Don’t exaggerate, Josephine,” she said calmly.
But Josie wasn’t going to be sidetracked. “Mom, what the hell is going on?”
Her mom sighed. She swung her legs over the bed and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers. “It was just a dream.”
“A nightmare.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Her mom cast a cursory glance at the smashed lamp, then dismissed it and walked down the hall.
Josie trailed after her. “You suppose? Mom, you’re drenched in sweat. And did you see what you did to the lamp?”
Her mom didn’t even glance over her shoulder. “I saw.”
“Well?” Josie pressed. “What were you dreaming about?”
Her mom walked into the kitchen and flipped the switch, flooding the room with stark, fluorescent light. She took a deep breath, letting it out slow and steady. Then she smiled, her face and body completely relaxed, and sat down at the table. “I don’t remember.” Josie’s mom pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. “I think perhaps I’m tired. Could you make me a cup of tea?”
“Tea?” Her mom hated tea. She was a gourmet, organic coffee drinker all the way. “Mom, you never drink tea.”
Her mom jolted. “Yes, well . . .” Her voice trailed off and she averted her eyes. “I’m trying to be healthier. I think the coffee has been affecting my sleep.”
It was true; her mom looked exhausted. Her face was sagging, her eyes sallow and ringed with purple, and she’d completely lost that girlish lightness she’d always possessed.
Josie set the kettle on a burner and went to the pantry. Did they even have tea in the house? She’d never seen any. She instinctively grabbed for the black canister that held her mom’s favorite French roast. It felt lighter, less dense, and when she popped it open she found that the custom ground coffee had been replaced by bags of Earl Grey.
“Mom,” Josie began tentatively, as she draped a tea bag over the side of a mug and poured the scalding water into it. “Maybe you should take some time off work? You’ve been going at it pretty hard.”
“I’m fine!” her mother snapped.
Josie flinched. “Okay.”
Her mom immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry. Perhaps you’re right.”
Josie sat down across from her. Her eye drifted up to the sunflower clock above the kitchen window. It was just a few minutes after four o’clock.
Her body went rigid. Was it possible? Josie was having another dream about Nick at the same time her mom was having a nightmare, once again at 3:59? That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“I’ve been having strange dreams too,” Josie said tentatively. “Every night at the same time.”
“What time?”
“3:59.”
Her mom’s chair scooted back across the linoleum floor with a screech. “I’m tired,” she said, pushing the untouched tea away from her. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.”
“Mom?”
“I’m going to bed.” Her mom swept out of the kitchen, switching off the light as she disappeared through the doorway. “And I suggest you do the same.”
Josie sat at the table in the dark as she listened to her mom stomp down the hall. Her bedroom door slammed, then the house fell oddly silent.
What the hell was going on? Even based on her mom’s behavior lately, this was totally outside the norm. Josie had never seen her mom so tense and on edge, snapping at every little thing. Work and her failing marriage were taking a toll. Josie slumped forward at the table, resting her chin in her hand. What could she do to help?
Out of the corner of her eye, Josie thought she saw an object pass by in the darkness outside the kitchen window.
It was just a split-second image, as if something had been illuminated by a camera flash before fading back into the darkness of the night, but Josie could have sworn she saw what looked like a large wing soar past the window. Then in the distance, another animalistic scream.
An eagle?
Josie thought. A wing and a shriek; it made sense. Or maybe an owl. Weird that it would be so close to the house; it must have been hunting something. Josie was oddly relieved. At least it wasn’t the exotic man-eating cat supposedly responsible for all the unexplained deaths recently. That was something.
Josie yawned. If nocturnal birds were out hunting, it meant she needed to be in bed, sound asleep. Back to school in the morning, back to face the hell that was her social life. She was going to need all the sleep she could get.
TWELVE
12:45 P.M.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” PENELOPE BLURTED OUT WHEN Josie took the seat across from her in the cafeteria.
“You mean more or less okay than I’ve been for the last few days?”
Penelope cocked her head to the side. “Either?”
Josie shrugged. Between the dreams, her mom, and the nightmare that had become her existence at school as teen-gossip topic du jour,
okay
wasn’t really a word that applied to her life anymore.
“That good, huh?” Penelope said, reading between the lines.
“That good.” Josie unwrapped her bean-and-cheese burrito and cracked open a soda while Penelope munched on a bag of Fritos. They ate for several moments in silence, until Josie heard a laugh from the corner of the cafeteria. A light, glittery giggle, and one she knew only too well. Before she could stop herself, she turned around and saw Madison sitting next to Nick at the varsity track team’s table, her head buried in his arm.
Nick turned and at that moment caught Josie watching him. His eyes flicked down to Madison, still snuggled next to him, then back up to Josie, a look of apology in his eyes.
Yeah, like that was good enough.
“You’ve got to ignore it,” Penelope said in her matter-of-fact way.
Josie turned back to her. “Ignore it? How the hell am I supposed to ignore it?”
“I don’t know,” Penelope said. “But you’ve got to figure it out. Stat.”
“Why bother?” Josie threw her arms wide. “Everyone already knows. It’s only matter of time before I’m the butt of every joke at the school.”
“Oh, you already are.”
“What?”
Penelope nodded. “Yeah, apparently the new word for when your boyfriend cheats on you with one of your friends is
Byrned
. It’s trending on Twitter. Even more popular than the unexplained animal attacks.”
Josie groaned and sank her forehead onto the table. She appreciated that Penelope always called it like she saw it, but every once in a while a little tact might have been helpful.
“My point is that you’ve got to start acting like it doesn’t bother you. Or at least don’t stalk him at track practice, okay?”
“Is there anything I do that’s private anymore?”
Penelope shook her head. “Zeke and Zeb told everyone about it in homeroom yesterday. By lunch, it was all over the school that you were stalking Nick and Madison.”
“Shit.”
“And it’s not going to help you, okay? You don’t want him back.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a suggestion. Penelope was laying down the law. “So do what you have to do to move on. Because Nick and Madison already have.”
3:30 P.M.