“Sorry,” I say, “I really have to pee. Do you mind if I—”

“Wait, what happened next?” says Bert, crouched over the dwindling fire. “Did you make it? You can’t just stop in the middle like th—”

“Of course he made it, you dummy,” says Angelica, slapping him on the back of the head. “You think he’d be sitting here with us if he didn’t?”

“Ouh,” says Bert, rubbing his head, giving her a glare. “Ah, but what about Xeno?”

“Yeah, show us the alien,” says Angelica, rubbing her hands together.

I sigh, and take a moment to look out the window. It's dark outside now. “I … can’t.”

The woman frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t have him with me anymore.”

Bert scoots further away from Angelica and asks, “What happened?”

I try to push myself up from the couch but the pain in my side is too much. “Can one of you help me up? I’m really not in the mood to piss my pants.”

Both of them hop to their feet and scurry around the fire to help me. They each grab one of my hands, then Bert yanks his back with a, “whoa, whoa, whoa.”

Angelica follows suit, cradling her hands in her chest as if I’d just burnt them.

“You’re trying to trick us,” says Bert.

“Um, nope, actually, I’m way to exhausted to send anyone right now. I’m not young anymore, it takes a lot out of me. I would really just like some help getting up—but, okay, I can understand your hesitation. I can try to manage on my …” I huff a few tight, painful breaths as I lean forward, then push myself to my feet. It’s excruciating, but I pull through it. “On my own,” I finish.

I start walking towards the doorway, clenching my side. The bleeding has stopped, at least on the outside. It’s the inside I’m worried about.

Angelica follows me. “Where you going?”

“To pee,” I reaffirm. “Where are the bathrooms, by the way?”

“You can pee right here,” she says. “Toilets don’t work, obviously.”

“I prefer to at least maintain the illusion of propriety, if you don’t mind. Hey, can one of you grab my wind up flashlight there on the ground? I can’t bend over very … yeah, that’s it. Thank you, Bert. Would you mind cranking it a few times, that would be—yep, perfect. About twenty or thirty times will do the trick.”

“You’re not going to sneak off, are you?” he says, finishing up.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” I say, covering my eyes, as Bert tests the light, shining it in my face.

“Good, cause you need to finish the story,” says Bert.

I sigh and smile at him. “Don’t worry,” I say, turning and stepping into the hallway. “There’s plenty more to come. Now, do I go left or right?”

“I’ll show you,” says Bert, stepping in front of me. He shines the light ahead and turns left. I follow, bracing myself against the wall as I go.

“Is there any romance?” says Angelica, following right behind me.

I give her a quick glance over my shoulder. “That’s … a bit later on, yes.”

“What’s romance?” says Bert.

Angelica snorts. “Of course you wouldn’t know what that is.”

We walk in silence for a moment, then Bert chimes in again.

“Did you ever find out about God?” he says.

The question surprises me, and I stop for a moment to consider. “What do you mean?”

“The rapture,” he says. “The Bible. All that prophecy. Is any of it true?”

“I … Well,” I chuckle. ‘That’s coming up too.”

We turn a corner and the bathrooms come into view down the hall.

“Obviously, you never build the gateway,” says Angelica. “The single person one, I mean. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right? Unless it’s a two way thing where you can come and go?”

“No, it’s a one way trip, and why are you so determined to spoil the story?” I say. “You do want me to continue right?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Yes,” says Bert and Angelica together.

We stop outside the entrance to the men’s room, which is a zig-zagging hallway covered in broken tiles.

“Here we are,” says Bert.

“Gracias,” I say, and the two look at each other, confused.

I walk in and both of them follow.

“Hey, I … can you guys give me some space? I’ve got stage fright.”

“Alright, alright,” says Angelica. “Come on Bert, let’s give the old man a little room.”

The two cannibals step back a few paces.

“How’s that?” says the woman.

“A little more, please. Maybe wait in the hall. Or hey, feel free to go back to the fire. I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll wait in the hall,” says Bert, tugging at Angelica’s shoulder and pulling her out of view.

“Oh, the light!” I say.

Bert pops into the bathroom, and sets the flashlight down in a way that illuminates the urinals.

“How’s that?” he says.

“It’ll do. Thanks.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he emphasizes, as he leaves the room.

“There’s literally nowhere for me to go,” I say, stepping up to the center urinal and turning my attention to tedious work of unstrapping my snow outfit. “I can barely walk as it is,” I mumble, more to myself.

I unstrap my poofy thermal outfit and unzip my fly. Pain shoots through me as I begin to relieve myself. There’s blood in my urine, I notice. At least it looks like blood. It’s hard to tell in this light.

“That’s not good,” I mumble.

Another pain shoots through my side and I lean my head against the wall, bracing myself with an arm. I turn my hand so I can see the scar. It’s shriveled up, void of any life. I clench my fist and pound the wall a few times, pushing through the pain. The hot steam from my breath fogs up the tile.

“How you doing in there?” comes Angelica’s voice.

I clear my throat. “I, uh … just fine. Thank you.”

I finish up then strap up again, which is even more painful than taking it all off.

I walk out of the bathroom to find the two in near pitch black. I open my arms wide. “See,” I say. “Still here.”

Bert walks behind me, careful to keep his distance as he picks up the light.

On the way back, they pepper me with more questions. Because of course they do.

“So, I remember you saying they send food to you, from the other world.”

“Yes,” I say. “Usually in the form of raw meat. It’s not cow meat—I actually don’t know it is, probably some native animal. But it’s delicious, so I don’t complain.”

“Yeah, but if they can send you meat, can’t they come back themselves to help you?”

“Great question,” I say. “And unfortunately, no. Or, at least no one has tried. Someone smart on the other side figured out how to tap into the receiving gate’s rejection algorithm. Or at least that’s what they told me.”

“How do they tell you? Can they talk through the gate?”

“No,” I chuckle. “They burn messages into the meat.”

“Ah, clever,” says Angelica.

“Are they going to send some anytime soon? I’m starving,” says Bert.

I almost say, “Really? Even after completely devouring your friend?” But I hold my tongue. Best not to remind the cannibals that they are cannibals, I think.

“It should be coming soon,” I say, as we approach the office door.

We enter the room and make our way back to our respective seats. Except for Bert, who begins hacking away at another office chair for firewood.

“How’s your wound?” says Angelica.

I grunt as I ease back into the deep leather-y couch. “I’ll be fine,” I grunt.

She gives me an incredulous look, then seems to consider something else.

Chop, chop, chop.

“Jack,” says Angelica.

“Yeah?”

“After you're done with your story, are you going to send us to Paradise?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to.”

“I … was thinking about that while you were peeing.” She looks around. “This is all I’ve known—all we’ve known,” she says. “This life has been hard.”

Chop, crack, chop.

I can only imagine. “Only if you promise not to eat anyone there,” I say.

She sits back and folds her arms. “I … you know, I never wanted anything bad to happen to those kids. I’m not a monster … It’s just—”

I hold up a hand to silence her. “It’s okay,” I say, as Bert scoops up the wood and begins placing them on the fire, one by one.

Just then, I feel something. “Oh, perfect timing,” I say. “What a coincidence.” A moment later, a large chunk of wet meat appears in my arms and slips into my lap.

Angelica and Bert let out simultaneous gasps.

I wipe the juice that splashed up off my chin. “Bert, would you mind cooking this over the fire? I’m starving.”

He grunts in astonishment. Before he takes it, however, I notice a message burnt into the flat of it.

What happened?

It’s referring to Fang Tooth, I know. It’s been years since I messed up a send, and it has them concerned.

“What does that say?” says Bert, picking up the slab.

“They want to know what happened to … uh, your friend over there.” I point to what’s left of Fang Tooth, sitting in a corner. I use the word sitting loosely.

“What are you going to tell them?” says Bert.

“I can’t tell them anything,” I say. “But you can … when I send you both.”

Bert sits down and looks at Angelica. They both seem to come to an unspoken agreement and start nodding. They both look back at me.

“Alright,” says Bert, speaking for both of them. “But after the story.”

"Okay then," I say, rubbing my hands together. "Where was I? Oh yeah, the earthquake. It goes on for a good ten minutes and it's the scariest ten minutes of my life. I somehow manage not to fall into any newly formed chasms—thanks, progenitors—as I speed south. At one point, I nearly flip the truck, swerving to avoid a fractured sliver of rock that bursts out of the ground, splitting the road in two. Rocks keep raining down on us like God's playing marbles. But eventually, we make it to the vessel, where we can take shelter and start looking for the parts to build the singer rider gateway. But, hey, real quick, before I continue—can someone melt some snow for me? I'm dying of thirst over here."