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    Thirteen past Midnight
    Thirteen past Midnight
    Thirteen past Midnight
    Ebook77 pages1 hour

    Thirteen past Midnight

    By Stephen B King

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    I knew I was dreaming when I peered around the trunk of an ancient Red Gum tree in the park to see if I could spot the cat before he saw me. He, or she, I had not been able to discern the sex, was prancing back and forth across the path. It was waiting for me, and it looked pissed. Suddenly it stopped and jerked its head around, and I ducked back behind the trunk, my heart pounding.
    The thing has seen me. How the hell did it know I was here? Now what do I do? My mind raged in overdrive.
    Why not just wake up? I replied, then closed my eyes, shook my head, and opened them again.
    Nope, not working, I'm still here. Any other bright ideas?
    Look, dummy, it's just a cat, what are you so scared of? Just walk up, kick it out of the way, and get to...to...where the fuck am I going in a hurry?
    I took a long, slow, calming breath and stuck my head around the tree again.
    HISSSSSSSSSSS. The cat had crept up on my hiding place and launched itself at me, claws out. In a second, it would be on my face biting and scratching.
    12:05. The green numerals flashed their welcome call. I was back in the land of the living, sweating profusely.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStephen B King
    Release dateMay 13, 2022
    ISBN9781005779597
    Author

    Stephen B King

    I was born in the UK, what seems like an epoch ago, and moved to Australia at age 16. I was a long haired rock guitarist and poet/songwriter, before real life got in the way, and I gave it all up for love. I've always felt I had tales to tell and won short story competitions and published poetry in my wilder, younger days. More recently I've written and published five novels. While they have all been Police procedural thrillers, mainly focusing on Serial killers, they all have a love theme running through them. I believe love, and family are everything. Anything else you gain in life is a bonus. I live in Perth, in Western Australia and am fiercely patriotic, and parochial. My wife is amazing in that she not only puts up with living with a writer, but encourages it. I've been blessed with five children, and I adore them all.

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      Book preview

      Thirteen past Midnight - Stephen B King

      CHAPTER 1

      I awoke suddenly, drenched in sweat, terrified, but for a moment couldn't understand why. The bedroom was dark except for the luminous green glow from the electronic alarm clock as it flashed 12:01. That was odd because usually it only flashed at 6:00 when the alarm sounded to get me up for work. The rest of the time if just shone weakly.

      A droplet of sweat dribbled down my side from my underarm. In the distance, I heard approaching thunder, but it seemed like the storm was a long way off. I jumped, startled again, as the rattle and thrumming of large raindrops hit the eastern facing window.

      Slowly, the remnants of the dream came back to me, and I remembered the cat.

      I'd been walking through the evening fog in Scottsdale Park. Why was I in that park? I have no idea, except that I knew I had to be somewhere for an appointment, and I was running late. I pride myself on my punctuality, so I was hurrying, and that's when I saw the cat for the first time. Pale grey, ghostlike almost, and it was big. "A keeper," as my mother would have said if she were still alive. I am generally not prone to being hysterical, but for some reason, the cat looked evil. Is that too strong a word? No, I don't think so, and you wouldn't either if you'd seen it.

      The damn thing was sneering at me. Yes, I know what you're thinking, but I swear it was. It sat in the middle of the path as if it were waiting for me, twenty feet away. I veered to my right to go around, and it got up and took three steps to its left, then sat down again to block my path.

      A tremor ran through me. It just felt, for want of a better word, kerflooey. Like all my senses were tingling as if the damn cat could look into my soul, and it didn't like what it saw.

      Please remember, this was a dream, but I didn't know that then, only later when I woke up.

      I stopped in my tracks, staring into the feline, lucifer eyes, then crablike, took four steps to my left. It slowly shook its head, like it was saying: "No, no, no, my bucko. you will not pass." I watched it stand, turn to its right, then take up another position directly in front of me once more.

      I admit I was frightened. I never really liked cats because my family had always been into dogs. My grandparents used to breed award-winning Terriers, and people came hundreds of miles to buy them. Dad had a beautiful Irish Red Setter as we grew up, and my elder brother and his wife much later had two gorgeous poodles, so none of us ever had cats.

      Oh, this is ridiculous. I'm running late, so I'm just going to kick the bloody thing out of my way.

      I took two steps forward, and the cat stood up on its hindlegs, hissed as if flames were about to come out of its mouth, and bared its claws at me. I thought it was going to leap at me, rip my throat out and eat my larynx. I stepped back, tripped, and landed heavily on my ass, and that's when I woke up.

      Why did that dream scare me so much? Even as I sat in bed, the raindrops sounding heavier by the minute, and I knew I was awake and safe, I could feel my heart pounding. Was it the cat? No, I realized it wasn't so much the animal, but the fact that it was trying to stop me from getting to my appointment, but what appointment and why?

      I swung my legs out of bed at the same time as my right hand reached for the base of the touch sensitive lamp, and the room flooded with light. I took a deep breath, then another. For goodness’s sake, grow up, you chicken shit, HELLO, it was just a stupid dream. I got up and went to the bathroom, relieved myself, then went back to bed. 12:03, the clock glared, but it was no longer flashing.

      ****

      The rest of the night was uneventful and true to form the alarm woke me at six with a pop song. I did all my usual chores and was out of the apartment by seven. Driving in the early morning traffic, I attempted to remember more about the dream, but it was as if the closer I tried to get, the farther away I felt myself sliding. Typical of bloody dreams, I mused, they never make much sense, and when they do, you can't remember them half an hour after waking. I'm not sure why it bothered me so much, yet it did. That damned ghostly-looking cat had scared the bejesus out of me, though I wouldn't admit it out loud.

      I consider myself to be normal in most senses of the word. I'm twenty-six, single, well at least for another two weeks, and then I am getting married to Amber Golightly. Weird name, Golightly, and I think Amber will be delighted to become Amber Cousins, which is my name. I guess I'm reasonable looking. I don't smoke, do drugs, or get violent when drunk. I work out three times a week at the gym, eat healthily, so I am not overweight. I'm not saying I am a significant catch, though Amber tells me I am. Of course, she is biased. We've been seeing each other for three years, and I adore her. We had already set the date and announced our plans before Amber discovered she was expecting

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