I was unconscious for a day and a night. I later discovered that I was the only one in the house who slept soundly during that time. The three took shifts, took turns checking in on me, watched and waited.

Tanya moved from room to darkened room in the house, wandering like a ghost. Eventually she opened one of the top floor windows and stepped out onto the shingled roof. She let her hair down, leaned back, and smoked pot under the stars.

Rightie had found a plush, comfy LA-Z-BOY—not unlike the one at my grandma’s house—and sank into it. His fingers ran along a bookshelf in the living room until he found something that piqued his interest. He plopped the volume open in his lap, muttering and reading quietly to himself.

Leftie made a concerted effort to sleep(which, in my personal experience, doesn’t work). He threw off the covers and ended up wandering the house. He found the open window, where Tanya was blowing plumes of pot-smoke. They were tiny, inconsequential streams of smog, evaporating immediately into the night. Tanya saw him, passed the bong. They smoked and talked. What about, I don’t know. Actually, looking back, I probably do know. I just don’t like to think about it.

Meanwhile, I was in a tunnel. Up ahead, I could see light, and a subway platform. My aunt and grandparents were there, leaning against the platform railing. They waved and beckoned to me.

I was limping. Stuck, really. Something was holding back one of my legs. A manacle, with a long, black chain. It ran along the floor of the tunnel, rattling and clanking on the metal tracks, winding its way like a snake into the darkness behind me.

I took a wide step and held up my manacled leg, pulled. The chain went taut. It hovered at waist height, like a power line coming out of the blackness, connected to nothing.

I yanked, harder this time, and there was a yelp, coming from somewhere there in the dark. Something pulled back, threatening to throw me off balance. I took a step back, planting both feet on the ground.

Back somewhere in the tunnel, light bloomed. It cascaded along the ceiling of the tunnel. Something was eclipsing the source of the light. It was round and solid, and took up most of the width of the tunnel. Still, the light crawled, steadily illuminating the path behind me. Shadows peeled back, like the sun rising at the crest of a hill. And I could see what the chain was connected to.

It was my best friend, Oscar. He’d been an almost constant part of my life after the move to Montana.

“KIT!” He yelled. Both his hands were manacled together, connected to another length of chain that wound further back. He gestured behind him, further into the tunnel. “Kit, help!”

Wherever that light was coming from, it seemed to be getting closer, pulling back the curtain of dark, until I could see where Oscar’s chain led. It was connected to Oscar’s sister, Jackie. Another big presence in my life, at one time. Wherever Oscar and I went, Jackie seemed to tag along, with a naive, puppy-like interest in whatever we were excited about at any time. She always did seem to take after her brother.

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Her hands were also cuffed together, with another chain running behind her. She had this confused, plaintive look on her face. Her eyes were on me. Like I was supposed to do something.

“Kit!” Oscar yelled. “The key!” He pointed.

A bronze key hung from a hook on the tunnel wall, just three paces ahead of me. It was a large, old-fashioned looking key, pocked with rust.

I took a step forward. Once again, the chain went taut. Both Oscar and Jackie seemed to be trying to make room for me, pulling tight against their chains, with no progress.

The tunnel began to shake and rumble, echoing with the clunking, humming sound of a train on the tracks. A loud horn blared warningly as the light grew brighter, the vibrations came closer.

The boulder-like structure obstructing the tunnel was now clearly visible. A giant hunk of rock not unlike the one that had chased Indiana Jones through a cave somewhere in the recesses of my childhood, only this one was flat on the bottom, and didn’t seem like it was about to go rolling anywhere. Beams of light shot through the cracks above and around it, so bright and sharp that it seemed the light itself might split the rock apart, shattering it into a thousand deadly shards. It was trembling, quavering to the rhythm of that approaching light source. The horn blasted again. It was close. Ear-piercingly close.

Jackie’s chain was level and taut. It ran from a metal loop jutting out of the boulder, connecting directly to her manacles.

I lunged for the key, falling short by a good arm and a half. The bridge of my nose slammed against one of the tracks that ran along the tunnel floor.

There was a deafening crash. The boulder shattered down the middle, each half careening forward. One of the halves slammed into Jackie, crushing her into the ground, while the other kept going. Oscar threw himself to the ground, barely ducking the flipping projectile. He was screaming his sister’s name.

Where Jackie’s body had once been, bits of dirt, rock, concrete, and metal debris were crashing forward like a wave, propelled by the unalterable motion of the derailed train. The horn rang. My vision went dark.

When it came back, I was lying on my back, staring at the sky. It was like a giant blue marble, with little, slowly traveling wisps of white.

I wobbled to my feet. It was hard to keep my balance, because I was standing on a precarious heap of debris and rubble. Like crushed, scattered cinder blocks, toppled and piled together. Strewn.

I was at the top of a hill that surveyed a wide, massive valley, filled with knee deep grass that flowed and danced to the beat of the wind, like waves on the surface of an ocean. A river ran from one high point in the valley, flowing down, disappearing distantly between slopes that were difficult to see clearly with the naked eye.

Two mountain slopes bulged at the end of the valley. In front of these, a tower. It was jagged and metal and rusted, it’s length dotted with jutting guns and turrets and machinations.

Closer than the tower, high in the middle of the valley, a creature flew. Its shadow traveled across the surface of the green valley, like the dark of a fish underneath a running current of water. It was crimson red, and reptilian in shape. It’s long tail furled behind it, whipping and winding. Its wingspan was tremendous. As the wings flapped and flexed, sunlight glinted powerfully off of its shiny scales.

Its jaw unhinged, and a low, penetrating call echoed, bouncing back and forth off of the surrounding hills. Flame issued from its mouth, a thick, voluminous plume, like a wracked, red cloud.

I stumbled forward, out of the rubble and onto the grassy slope of the hill. I fell to my knees.

Rithium.