John lay in bed, sleepless, wondering about Lisa. They'd talked on the phone, agreed to meet after school and start their -- he shuddered, the maggot in his leg shuddered, too-- hunt. "I dunno, man, I'm not sure having you there is gonna work. Why don't you come on out for a bit? Hide in my room?" He felt a swish, left right left and his stomach clenched. "That is weird man. Please stop doing that." The maggot was still.
Eventually, the circles of Lisa, maggot, hunt, and magic tired his brain and John slept. When he woke, John did not clearly, or immediately remember his dream, but this is what happened in it. He was standing on the roof of the abandoned building and it was raining, pouring down hard cold droplets that stung and made him grit his eyes. And then he woke.
The sun shone through the windows of his room, the ceiling fan whirred peacefully. A car passed.
John's phone rang.