Kendall was normal until a series of frightening nightmares and daydreams invade her life. The search for answers only leads her to more questions. Is she prepared for the outcome?



I had never seen Kendall drive before. It was frightening to say the least. She was driving way too fast, but I guess given the circumstances I didn't mind it. She kept her eyes on the road the entire time, even when I fiddled with the radio. I knew she didn't know where she was going, either, I just hoped she could sense something.

It wasn't until her phone vibrated did she say, "Can you check that?"

"Sure." I nodded and reached over to pick up her phone off the dashboard. I opened it and looked at the text message. "Um, Kendall? You might want to stop driving."

"Yeah?" she muttered, still looking at the road. "Why is that?"

"Because you're cold," I said softly. When she asked me what the hell I was talking about, I said, "That's what your message says: you're cold. What's going on?"

"It's Seth," she said as she jerked the car to a full stop and looked at me, her golden eyes glinting in the dark. "I don't even know this asshole and he's killed my friends and taken my boyfriend."

I rubbed my temples. "How would he know you?"

"I don't know," she muttered, looking at me. "Give me my phone."

I handed it to her and she dialed a number, then waited. When someone answered, she turned on the speaker phone.

"I thought you might call," said a voice. "How are you, Kendall?"

"Fuck you," she hissed.

"You might want to watch your language," said the stranger. "Is Jude there with you? I know he saw me."

"Seth?" I said, glancing at Kendall. "What's this about? Why did you need information on her?"

A soft chuckle filled the silence in the car. I watched Kendall shiver and close her eyes. If I knew any better, she was willing herself not to cry, because all of this was too much.

"Listen you piece of shit," I said, gripping the door handle. "If you don't tell me why you're doing this and you hurt Christian, I'm going to kill you."

Seth spoke quietly into the phone. "Come and find me, fucker."

When the dial tone sounded, Kendall started to cry. She was trembling so much that I thought she was going to drop the phone. When she didn't, when she just let out this awful wailing noise, I grabbed her hands tightly. I wanted her to look at me, to see that I was here, that I was so fucking sorry for what I did, and I would help her through this.

"Stop," I whispered. "Stop it and look at me. Look at me, damnit! I'm real, I'm here, and we're going to be okay. We're going to save him." When I moved my hands to her faces, finally, she turned her head, her golden eyes murky.

"Please," she pleaded, shaking her head. "God, I'm sorry. Just help me. I can't lose him. I can't, Jude."

"I know," I said, pulling her to me. She rested the side of her cheek against my chest, and if it were possible, I could feel every ounce of regret that she had.

When her phone vibrated against my knee, neither of us moved. Kendall didn't even seem to notice, but I did. Slowly, I picked it up and looked at the screen.

One New Message.

The number wasn't one I recognized. I opened the phone. It was only a few words, but it was enough.

732 Wicker Road.

No cops.

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