Alf ran down the road, faster and faster, trying to hold the darkness at bay. But he couldn’t get her words out of his head. We’re done! Get away from me! I need you to leave me alone! This time he’d pushed her too far. She was furious. Everything he said always came out so wrong. And he was too clueless to realize it was even happening.

No, he told himself. He had to stop beating himself up. He was teetering on the edge of a dark abyss. He could feel the depths reaching up for him, clawing as his mind with seductive, midnight-black tendrils of despair. If he fell into the pit now, he’d never get out—especially not with everything that was happening.

It was crazy. He was crazy. People were turning into actual monsters. A cloud of dust had disintegrated his clothes, and now even their supplies were gone. Not to mention all the buildings and people and animals. And he was wallowing in despair because Blix was mad at him? No wonder she couldn’t stand to be around him. He couldn’t stand to be around himself either. He’d taken pathetic to an all-time low.

And this was the definition of negative self talk. He had to stop and think about something constructive, like how they were going live through the end of the world. And he had to find something: food or water or a good place to camp. He knew he was being pathetic, but if he could come up with something really useful—and here came the pathetic part—maybe Blix wouldn’t be so mad at him?

The moon peeked out from behind a haze of clouds, casting a ghostly light on the road ahead. It shimmered and rippled like a mirage of dust and moonlight. Trees glided through the soil in a stately parade, miniature ents moving through a world suddenly gone mad.

He realized with a start, that it wasn’t a dream. The trees really were moving. Trees and bushes and ferns and soil, they flowed out onto the road, obliterating every sign of civilization.

A shimmer of dust swept toward him like a spent wave on a shallow beach, eating away at the asphalt to deposit soil and vegetation in its wake.

Alf stumbled to a stop. The dust was almost hypnotizing. He backpedaled, turned, and broke into a run. Up the hill, around the bend, faster and faster, pursued by the edge of the world as he knew it.

At least it gave him an excuse to go back. He had to warn her. She deserved to know what was coming. Even if they didn’t have anything left for it to take, he owed it to her to tell her it was coming.

A switchback trail zigzagged up the steep slope to his right. It hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago; he would have noticed. And something about it looked so… wrong. The vegetation surrounding the path was thicker than the other plants in the area, greener and more glossy somehow, and since when did wildflowers open in the middle of the night? It was too idyllic—like a set from an old movie.

It was another clue, he was sure of it. Blix would want to know about this too—even if he was too late to warn her about the road.

Pushing his rubbery legs to their limits, he pounded up the narrow trail, climbing through thicker and thicker vegetation until he hit a tangled hedge of brambles covered with plump blackberries—which might have been the reason for the path, but something still didn’t feel right, besides blackberries ripening this late in the season. He edged along the hedge, probing for a way through, but the farther from the path he got, the more the hedge thickened.

He made his way back to the path and pushed gingerly through the wall of thorns. It felt like someone had twined the vines together. Which was ridiculous. He was sure the path hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago. Why would the dust create the illusion that people had been there before?

The last two vines finally parted, and he stepped out into paradise.

A deep valley opened beneath him like the cone of a volcano. He followed a narrow switchback trail to an enormous pool of steaming water. The air grew warmer and warmer with each step. It was like some kind of volcanic hotsprings—except ferns and mosses grew all the way to the edge of the pool, and he couldn’t detect a trace of sulfur or iron or other mineral salts.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And something about the valley was familiar somehow—like he’d seen it in a movie or on an advertisement or a video game.

He circled around the pond and looked expectantly up at a wall of overhanging rock.

And there it was, exactly like he knew it would be. Rocky steps leading to the opening of a narrow cave.

Climbing the steps felt like a waking dream. The cave was only three feet high. He ducked under the rocky ledge with practiced ease and stepped into a familiar, dome-like room. A shaft of moonlight slanted into the chamber through an almost perfectly square opening in the ceiling—exactly like he’d seen in his imagination. Memory? It was so familiar, but he knew he’d never been there before.

It was ridiculous. The walls were warm to the touch. It was too perfect to be real. He knew in his heart something was wrong, but all he could think about was showing it to Blix. It was exactly what she needed to lift her spirits. Their own personal island of sanity in the horror breaking out all around them.

He’d been gone way too long. Plunging down the steps, he skirted the pond and retraced his steps back to the road, which, thankfully, hadn’t been erased yet. He ran back to where he’d left her, but couldn’t find her anywhere. His chest tied itself in knots. What if she thought he’d abandoned her? What if she’d gone with someone else? She’d told him to go away. She was probably hiding now, happy to have finally gotten rid of him.

“Blix!” he shouted. “Blix!”

“Quiet!” Her voice cut though the stillness. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

He pounded to a stop and almost collapsed. A shadowy figure sat by the side of the road.

“Hey.” He approached her casually, like he hadn’t just been freaking out. “Sorry I took so long, but you have to see what I found. There’s—”

The fog thinned to reveal an amber moon. Blix’s face, arms, and clothes… She was filthy.

“What happened?” He crouched in front of her. “Did those guys…?”

Her eyes narrowed, warning him to silence.

“Sorry, but—”

“I was working on our shelter.” Her words came out in a rush. “As long as it doesn’t start pouring, we should be dry and warm and almost impossible to find.” She pointed back into the trees. “Come on, I’ll show you.” She reached for him and then hesitated. “That is, if you don’t mind…”

“Are you sure?” Alf studied her face. She didn’t seem mad. Not exactly. And she said she’d built it? He hadn’t been gone that long.

“Look, I said I wasn’t mad.” She reached toward his neck. “I was just… Are we doing this or not?”

He inched toward her, following her lead as she reached around his neck and pulled him into an off-balance hug.

“This is me apologizing,” she said in a soft voice. “It’s just that… I’m not used to depending on people. That’s kind of my thing. I’m supposed to be the strong fearless girl running half marathons and competing in the Alcatraz Sharkfest Swim. I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want—” She sighed and the tension seemed to drain from her body. “I don’t like you seeing me like this. Do you get what I’m saying? This isn’t the real me.”

Alf nodded uneasily. Did she want him to pick her up or was this a hug? “I’m not good with being alone,” he admitted. “That’s kind of who I am. I don’t mean to, but sometimes I end up driving people away.”

“You’re sweet,” she said it like it was a bad thing. “But I supposed you can’t help it, so I’ll have to forgive you this time. Just don’t make a habit of it, okay?”

Alf didn’t know how to respond. Was he supposed to be more rude or was this another code?

“Just pick me up.” She was laughing now. “Before I freeze to death.”

He staggered onto his feet without embarrassing himself too much. “Um…” He needed to tell her about the cave and hot spring, but she seemed so excited about this shelter of hers. And he did want to see it.

“Straight back into the trees, about thirty feet.”

He climbed the slope and pushed through the undergrowth into a dark grove of trees.

“It’s a giant Christmas tree with a ring of leaves instead of presents.”

He felt his way through the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The crush of leaves underfoot suddenly gave way to muted thuds, and then he was facing a huge evergreen surrounded by a ring of wet leaves. No wonder she was so dirty.

“Isn’t it perfect? Wait till you see how dry it is inside!”

He deposited her near a gap in the leaves and followed her under the cold, wet branches, sucking in his breath as a shower of ice-cold drops ran down his neck.

“Isn’t it nice?” Her voice sounded at his ear.

“Um… Very.” He moved back to give her more room, but she kept scooting closer. Her arms were so cold they felt like blocks of ice. She was shuddering. He could hear the breath rattling in her chest.

He reached out haltingly and pulled her closer, rubbing her back to make it clear he was trying to warm her up.

“You said you found something?” she asked in a shivery voice.

They’d be a lot warmer in the cave—not to mention the hot spring. But she’d worked so hard…

“This is really nice,” he finally said. “Maybe, if we get a chance, I’ll show you tomorrow?”