Seconds Before Sunrise (The Timely Death Trilogy) by Shannon A. Thompson

loosened on the steering wheel. “You always look tired.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” he clarified. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”
    I turned to the window and felt him glance over a number of times before he accepted my silence. I didn’t want to talk about it with Robb. He had blown me off the first time, and I didn’t want it to happen again.
    T he Suburban came to a squeaking halt. My bedroom light spread onto the front lawn, and I exhaled, calmed by the familiar sight.
    “Want me to walk you up?” Robb asked.
    I shook my head, but h e got out anyway, leaving his car running. I jumped out and walked next to him.
    We didn’t talk, and I reached into my purse for my keys. They curled around my fingers, and I pulled them out. They jingled as I lowered my hand to my hip. “Thanks for driving me, Robb.”
    His eyes darted around the lawn, and I looked over my shoulder. “What are you looking at?” I asked.
    H is neck snapped as he turned it back. “Nothing,” he said. “I thought I saw something. Probably an animal.”
    “I hope so,” I said, fighting the urge to search the neighbor’s trees for whatever he saw. A part of me hoped it was an animal, but a bigger part of me wished to see one of the boys from my dream.
    I barely turned to the door before Robb spoke up again, “What are you dreaming about?”
    M y neck tightened like I was being choked. “Nothing important.” I cleared my throat, but Robb didn’t budge, and I dropped my eyes to the ground. “A boy.”
    The words, spoken a loud, sounded weirder than I expected. It sounded dangerous, not comforting, and I could sense Robb’s discomfort. He’d shifted away, and his back was pressed to the wall. He crossed his arms before uncrossing them and shoving his hands in his pockets.
    “Have you thought about calling the police?” he asked.
    “Why would I do that?” I squeaked. “It isn’t real.”
    Robb’s lip pulled into a smirk, but it dissipated qui ckly, leaving me to wonder if I had seen what I did. “You seem upset enough that I figured you thought it might be.” His eyes searched my yard again.
    “Do you think I should?”
    He pushed his back off of the wall. “I think the more attention you give your dreams, the more dreams you’ll have,” he said. “The dreams will stop if you want them to.”
    “I’ll try that, ” I said, but I wasn’t sure I wanted them to stop.
    “ I should get back to Zac and the others.”
    “Thanks again, ” I said.
    H e threw his arm over my shoulders. He hugged me from the side before striding down the sidewalk and disappearing into his car. I went inside before he drove away and tried to ignore my gut.
    S omeone − or something − was in my yard, and it didn’t feel protective like the boys from my dreams. It felt malicious, and it was focused on me.

     
    Jessica
     
    He stood beneath the shadows of the trees, but he was immune to the darkness. His blond hair illuminated without light, and his face didn’t cast a single shadow. The man didn’t move, but he seemed to be vibrating, causing the leaves to shiver above him. On a windless night, he was the eye of a storm – still, but awaiting something.
    I, immediately, feared I was that something.
    His eyes, widened past the usual circumference, were black pits, but I somehow knew he was staring at my bedroom. And I wasn’t awake.
    The image flashed on and off in my mind as I clutched my blankets, desperately searching for reality, but I was stuck. I couldn’t wake myself up, and my skin was burning. Even my pajamas felt like they were ignited by electricity.
    He was in the yard, but I could feel a hand on my chin, a blade to my neck. The air was warm, but my mind was frozen. I wanted to move − fight and run − but I couldn’t. I could only scream.
    …
    My scream shattered the nightmare, and I sprung up, blinking the image away furiously. I leapt from my bed, sprinted across my bedroom, and slammed