Justin was not Justin.

He knew this because he should have been in the backseat. It was dark. The roads were slick with rain, and the wipers were going hard. He'd had this dream before. Plenty of times, in fact. It was a dream of a memory, and he knew exactly how it went. But he was supposed to be in the car's backseat. Instead, for some reason, he was driving

He looked at his hands on the wheel and noticed how much hairier they were than usual. The fingernails looked ...