Chapter 67
[Claire's POV]
I stared at the computer screen, the MapQuest window still open to the sprawling layout of Silverwood's outskirts. My conversation with Marcus had ended twenty minutes ago, but I couldn't bring myself to close the laptop. His words kept echoing in my mind: What if your dreams are showing us things in real time?
The possibility made my stomach churn. If I was seeing events as they happened, then my decision to map out potential locations wasn't just curiosity—it could be the difference between life and death.
Shadow had wandered out from the bedroom and was now perched on the arm of my couch, watching me with those bright yellow eyes as if he knew something was wrong. The printed map lay spread across my coffee table, marked with red circles around areas that matched what I'd seen in the dream. Five locations, all on the outskirts, all fitting the profile of winding roads with minimal lighting.
I couldn't do this alone, but I also couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere out there, someone was in danger.
The answer was obvious, even if it made me cringe with embarrassment. I picked up my flip phone and scrolled to Samantha's number.
She answered on the second ring, her voice alert despite the early hour. "Claire? What's wrong?"
"This is really embarrassing to ask at this time of the morning," I said, clutching the phone tighter. "But I need to go check something, and I can't go alone."
"My job is to protect you twenty-four hours a day," she said without hesitation. "Give me five minutes to get dressed."
A few minutes later, Samantha emerged from her room dressed in dark tactical cargo pants, a fitted black long-sleeve shirt, and combat boots. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she moved with the quiet efficiency.
"This is about the dream you mentioned, isn't it?" she asked, settling onto the couch beside me and looking at the map spread across the coffee table.
I nodded, spreading the map between us on the coffee table. "I've marked five locations that could match what I saw. The problem is, they're all pretty similar—winding roads, sparse streetlights, isolated areas where someone could..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.
Samantha studied the map with the same focused attention she brought to everything. "Claire, what exactly did you see?"
I took a shaky breath. "A woman walking alone on a dark road at night. Someone was following her, stalking her. She was wearing this beautiful red silk dress and matching heels, like she'd been out somewhere nice." I touched one of the red circles on the map. "The road was winding, with very few streetlights. Rural, but not completely isolated—like the outskirts of residential areas."
Samantha's expression grew serious. "And you think this is happening now? Not something that already occurred?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But Marcus asked me the same thing, and now I can't stop thinking about it. What if she's out there right now, and I'm sitting here doing nothing?"
Samantha was quiet for a moment, then looked up at me with something that might have been guilt. "I should apologize," she said quietly. "Yesterday at Swan Lake, when that man was following you around the trails—I let my guard down. I should have been more vigilant about your safety, and the stress from that incident might be affecting your dreams."
I blinked, surprised by her admission. "Samantha, that wasn't your fault. You caught him, didn't you? Besides, that was just some creepy maintenance worker. No big deal."
But she shook her head, her jaw set in a way that told me she'd already made up her mind about her supposed failure. "My job is to protect you twenty-four hours a day, Claire. That includes making sure traumatic experiences don't happen in the first place."
"Well, your job right now is helping me figure out if someone else is in danger," I said firmly. "Are you up for a drive around the city?"
She stood immediately. "Let's go."
By 5:00 AM, we were cruising through Silverwood's outskirts in Samantha's dark SUV. I'd expected the streets to be completely deserted, but I was surprised to find signs of early morning life everywhere.
"I had no idea the city was this active so early," I said, watching a man in a reflective vest wait at a bus stop.
"Early shift workers," Samantha explained, slowing as we approached our first target location. "Factories, hospitals, airport ground crews—lots of people start work at six or seven. And see those guys with the fishing gear?" She nodded toward a pickup truck loaded with tackle boxes and rods. "Die-hard fishermen head to the lakes before sunrise. Best time to catch anything worthwhile."
Our first location was a disappointment. Even from the car, I could tell it didn't match my dream. The road was too straight, and there were too many streetlights for the shadowy, menacing atmosphere I'd experienced.
The second location was equally wrong—too much suburban development, with porch lights and early risers visible through kitchen windows.
"Third time's the charm?" Samantha asked as we approached our next target.
This one required leaving the car behind. The road narrowed to barely more than a hiking trail, with signs warning that motor vehicles weren't permitted beyond a certain point.
We walked for twenty minutes, our footsteps echoing in the pre-dawn quiet. The path wound through a small patch of woods before emerging into what looked like an abandoned residential development—empty lots with concrete foundations and overgrown landscaping.
"This place gives me the creeps," I murmured, but even as I said it, I knew it wasn't right either. The dream road had been paved, not dirt and gravel like this one.
Location four was on a hillside, accessible only by a steep, winding drive that made Samantha's SUV work hard in second gear.
"If someone was walking up here at night, they'd have to be in seriously good shape," I said, looking out at the scattered houses perched on the slope. "And why would anyone be walking around up here anyway? There's nothing but residential houses."
Samantha nodded. "Places people actually walk at night tend to be flatter. Near bus stops, parking areas, entertainment districts."
Our final option was the most promising, but also the most depressing.
"This used to be Wonderland Amusement Park," Samantha explained as we pulled into what was now a sad collection of empty lots and weathered playground equipment. "The investors pulled out about five years ago when the liability insurance became too expensive. The city converted it into a community park, but it never really took off."
The location was isolated, surrounded by the empty shells of what had once been a textile manufacturing district. When the factories moved overseas, this entire area had been left to decay slowly. A few streetlights still worked, casting lonely pools of yellow light across cracked asphalt pathways.
I walked the perimeter, trying to conjure the feeling from my dream, but nothing clicked. The atmosphere was melancholy rather than menacing, abandoned rather than actively dangerous.
By 7:30 AM, we'd covered every location on my list and several others that had occurred to us along the way. I slumped against the passenger seat of Samantha's SUV, feeling defeated.
"We've been to half the back roads in Silverwood," I said, rubbing my tired eyes. "Maybe you were right about yesterday affecting my dreams. Maybe this whole thing was just my subconscious processing being followed and scared."
Samantha looked relieved. "That makes sense, Claire. Stress and trauma can definitely influence dream content. It doesn't mean your ability isn't real—just that sometimes your mind needs to work through other experiences too."
I was about to agree when my flip phone rang. The caller ID showed Marcus's number.
"Marcus?" I answered. "What's wrong?"
His voice was grim. "Claire, we've got a situation. We just found a body in the southern district."