Dream Walker

Chapter 11 | Layla's Eyes

The next attack happened several days after the night she talked to her mom. The victim was another college student, and her body was found outside the main library on campus, hidden by a copse of trees. It didn't seem coincidental that Callie had been in that library during the reported time of death. Was she being hunted or just taunted? If someone wanted her dead, there had been plenty of opportunities to arrange that.

Because that attack was known to have occurred on campus, along with the backlash from terrified students and parents, the university took action to increase security. City police had pitched in to increase the number of patrols on and around campus. Concerned students leaving campus at night could get a ride home with campus police or get reimbursed for their use of a rideshare app. Although there had again been no witness, police still suspected an animal was involved, given the presence of large bite wounds.

Callie was either confident or suicidal in her decision to keep walking home in the dark. Some part of her wanted the creature to show its face. She wanted it to leave everyone else alone. If it wanted her attention, that mission had been accomplished. Her friends expressed concern when she continued to come home from the library after dark, but she brushed them off. They were probably in more danger than she was, and they were being cautious. Their safety mattered more than her own.

She was walking home from the bus stop a few days after the library attack and praying she wouldn't feel the icy brush of something breathing down her neck, because she was too tired to be cocky about her odds of survival. Peeking out from a flowerbed were a familiar pair of yellow eyes. Callie stopped her motion instantly.

The cat looked ready to bolt at the slightest noise but maintained eye contact. She lowered her body carefully to the ground, sitting on the sidewalk with her legs crossed under her. There was no one else around to find her behavior odd, so she didn't worry about attracting attention.

Callie waited, patiently, as the cat assessed her with its glowing gaze. It must have decided she was trustworthy, because its lithe body sprung up and strolled toward her, muscles bunched in anticipation. It slowed within a few inches of her legs, sniffing her bag and her clothes.

Upon closer examination, the cat's size was not what she had expected. It appeared to be an adult rather than a half-grown kitten, but it was thin as a rail. Its legs looked comically long when extended fully. When it walked, its slim body weaved like a slithering snake. Its footsteps were precise and sure with an effortless grace.

She gently lifted her hand a few inches above the ground, palm facing down. The cat, curious rather than fearful, approached the hand, sniffed it, then rubbed the corner of its mouth along her fingers. Callie took the opportunity to move her hand further down the length of the cat as it sauntered past, amazed at the silky feel of the black fur. The cat seemed very clean for a stray. The slimness of its frame looked natural instead of the product of malnourishment.

Something felt right about her connection with this animal. Her gut told her something was different about this cat, despite her brain saying it was just some mixed-breed stray that happened to wander around this neighborhood. She saw a preternatural intelligence in its eyes, and it looked at her like it knew who she was. Like it had been searching for her.

Callie, again moving slowly, gathered her bag and stood up. The cat seemed unconcerned with her movements, but she didn't want to risk startling it. She tried walking a few steps in the direction of her apartment and was happy to see the cat keeping pace alongside. When she stopped to cross the street, the cat stayed too, taking the moment to rub its body against a light pole. It followed immediately when she stepped into the crosswalk.

They walked together in that way all the way up the stairs to the apartment. Mr. Hawthorn received a combination growl and hiss when he spied through his cracked front door as they passed. Who needs police protection when you have a guard cat? The cat sniffed the trim around the front door while Callie turned her key in the lock and pushed it open. The dark, sleek head swiveled to look at her. Once she had taken the first step across the threshold, the cat padded inside.