I blink.

My eyes hurt.

I rub them, but it doesn’t help, for they just sting even more.

I sigh.

My nose is runny. And we’re moving. My cheeks are covered with dried tears. The ground rumbles. I mutter, “Gross.” And then I turn to Ronnie and ask him: “Where are you taking us?” Except he’s not driving. Because he snorts a snore away, and huffs, and looks at me with lidded eyes that look so puffy it seems like he cried too.

“Wha—” His head snaps left, then right. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of the steering wheel imprinted in pinks against his cheek. “Steph…” Ronnie mutters.

He sounds afraid.

Is he afraid?

“Why are you flipping out?” I ask him.

He points to the radio. The time reads ten. Ten in the morning. And yet we are surrounded by darkness.

“Holy shit.” My jaw drops. “Are we dead?!”

“What?” Ronnie cringes. His freckled face retreats into his shoulders. “Dude, no. We’re not in one of your weird movies, this is reality, remember?”

“So, like,” I scratch the back of my head, “remind me what kind of reality this is though?”

A heavy, metallic door, lets out a cry of despair. I shriek and hold onto my seat. Light is shone unto us. “Nice reflex, dweeb,” Ronnie tells me.

I punch his arm. “Shut up, dweeb.”

“Who’s there?” a man shouts as his footsteps approach Ronnie’s car.

Ronnie gulps. “Uh-oh.”

As the man gets closer, it becomes evident to me that he isn’t one of us. “Ronnie?” I turn to face my friend and give the sleeve of his sweatshirt a tug. “You sure about that weird movie statement? Because, not to doubt you or anything, but I’ve never seen someone with a mask like that.”

The man leans forward. He presses his hand to our window and gives it two taps.

I shriek again.

Ronnie goes pale. “W-we’re harmless,” he throws his hands into the air, “I swear!” he says.

“Are you?” The man mutters through his gas-mask as he motions for us to come forth, “get out of the car then,” he says.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Where do we do?!” I ask Ronnie, my voice low, words fast. “He’s totally going to do some weird shit to us if we—”

“Now!” The man shouts, kicking at Ronnie’s door.

Ronnie fiddles with the lock. He steps out of his seat and drops to the floor, knees pressed to the ground, his fingers still facing the sky. “We’re not here to start a fight,” he tells the man, his head hung low.

The man points to us. “Then why aren’t you wearing masks?” He says, “what’s wrong with you?!”

“Uh,” I raise a brow, “nothing’s wrong with us, sir?”

Ronnie presses a fist to his lips. He clears his throat. “Should we be wearing them? No offense, man, sir… but they look kind of uncomfortable.”

I shoot him a glare and furrow my brows. Come on, Ronnie. This guy’s a total nutcase. Just get back in the car, ignore his bullshit, and let’s go—

“Yes, the man nods, “it’s dangerous here. It isn’t safe for you to carry on without one.”

Yeah… definitely nuts.

Ronnie gasps. He grabs the man by his shoulders and shakes him. “Fucking hell, mate, why didn’t you say so earlier?!”

I pause and blink twice.

No. No, Ronnie, you can’t seriously be falling for this. It would be all over the news if a place like this existed.

“Where…” He tilts his head and observes the man’s gas-mask. “Where we can we get two of… whatever it is you’re wearing?”

What’s wrong with you?!

Ronnie, did you hit your head somewhere?

“Excuse me,” I say with an awkward laugh, “but what exactly is this place?”

The man smiles. He turns to me. “The future,” he says.