Premonition

She still couldn't shake the previous night's dream. Heading to the kitchen, she put on her heels and fumbled to insert her earrings as she grabbed a bagel on her way out the door. The stress of the looming presentation made every part of her morning frustrating, but the dream added a different, fearful edge. Never had she remembered a dream so vividly, and never had a dream been so disturbing. "It must be the presentation," she thought, "everything is riding on it." If she didn't land this new account, she and her entire team would likely be among the rising number of unemployed on the evening news. She hadn't emphasized the importance of the meeting, but she wanted them to be worry-free this morning; bringing their normal, confident "A" games.

"Dammit!" she exclaimed, as she missed another green light. She wasn't late, but it was going to be close, and she still had a change to make on her slides. Pressing 3 on her phone, she speed dialed Roger, her go-to-guy on the team. "Hey Roger, can you do me a HUGE favor?" she asked. "Where are you, Christine, the meeting starts in twenty minutes?" She could sense a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm just a few minutes out, but can't catch a break with traffic. Can you change the lead slide back to our original idea?" Roger agreed to her request. "You owe me," he told her. He had wanted to make this revision at the last meeting, but Christine shot him down. "You're the best! I won't forget this," she told him, hoping she would get the chance to return the favor.

Putting her phone back in the cup holder, she accelerated as the light changed. A welcome sense of relief came over her knowing that Roger would get it done. She was just a couple of miles from her exit, and then only three blocks to her office. Christine blared on the horn as a large utility van cut her off. "Learn to drive, asshole!" she yelled. Fortunately, her coffee didn't spill all over her. The van came out of nowhere and began braking in front of her. "What's this guy's problem?" she asked herself. Just then, another van pulled up beside her. Looking in her mirror, she noticed a third van closing in.

"This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening!" she nervously repeated. She knew what was coming next, as she had dreamt it the night before. She tried to veer right, but the vans moved with her, boxing her into the guard rail. Tears streamed down her cheeks. There was no concern about the now ruined make-up job, as the looming presentation had vanished from her mind. The vans forced her off the freeway, onto the off ramp to her office. They moved into position to trap her car between them. "Why isn't anyone stopping!" she cried. She began ramming the van in front of her, but her tires were promptly shot. She reached for her phone, but her trembling hands knocked it to the floor. Fear was now a suffocating blanket over her, as men approached on all sides.

Christine awoke in a room she recognized, but had only been in her mind. She saw her suit jacket hanging on the wall in front of her, and could feel the duct tape biting into her wrists, ankles and cheeks. This time it was real. She could do nothing but cry, as the future was recalled in her mind over and over again. Footsteps echoed closer down a corridor, and brought with them the terror of the previous night. The metal door creaked open, and the man's razor glimmered in the dim light of the single lamp in the corner of the room.