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

My jaw drops. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’ve entered the future,” he echoes. “And, if you do not put on a mask during the hours to come, I’m afraid to say you will soon meet the end.”

Behind me, Ronnie gulps, as another set of footsteps dance in the man’s shadow, until a young woman joins his side. “Geez, pops, stop scaring them, will you?” The woman is thin, her features seem young, but I can tell by her way of speaking and how she holds herself that she’s probably older than us. She isn’t short, but it’s not like she’s tall either, I guess she’s about my height; except her hair’s much longer – and blonde. She leans over, into the window’s arch, with a wide grin on her face. It occurs to me that she’s wearing gloss over her lips beneath the mask before my eyes fall to her two pig-tails that come to rest against her frail arms. “Hiya,” she says. “I’m Edna. Who are you?”

Ronnie immediately rises from the floor and cleans the dust off his jeans. He holds out his hand towards her and blurts, “R-Ronnie!”

His voice cracks.

He’s shaking, I think, and then, shit.

I remember now.

Those blunt cut bangs, her slightly tanned skin that only serves to accentuate her blue eyes… Yeah, there’s no doubt about it...

She’s one hundred percent his type.

Edna squashes Ronnie’s palm between her hands and rubs circles into his knuckles. “A pleasure,” she says.

Hold on there, I frown, isn’t it a bit too early for skin sandwiches? My gaze falls to Ronnie. And yep, as expected, he’s pretty much melting into her touch. Great. I sigh. Ronnie… as much as I like you, I feel like this officially marks our stay here, and for that I hate you.

“What’s wrong?” Edna tilts her head my way.

And, crap, she’s looking right at me.

…

Okay, I guess she is kind of cute.

If snakes were cute.

I clear my throat. “Nothing,” I say. I don’t trust you, snake.

“Well, well, well.” The man she previously called father wraps an arm around her shoulder. Their masks wheeze in unison.

I squint.

My head retreats into my shoulders.

God, I think, that’s so creepy.

“Now that you’re getting along fine, why don’t we tell you more about the future, and introduce you to the rest of the crew?”

“Crew?” I blink, resisting the urge to kick love-struck Ronnie, who’s doing nothing but swooning over Edna. “What crew?”

Edna covers her mouth. She gasps and turns to oxygen-mask-senior. “You mean you haven’t told where they are yet? Papa!” She giggles, “you big meanie!”

Okay, I trust her even less now. No girl over the age of four ever acts this way towards a family member. And yeah, last time I checked, she’s way over four.

Ronnie casually leans against his car. He smiles. It’s one of those disgusting, loopy smiles, people give to other people when in lust.

I remember the man at the hotel. I remember his hands on me. Suddenly, I feel kind of sick. And I want to puke. Get a hold of yourself. I dig my nails into my palms. You’re not that person anymore, okay? You’ve learned from these mistakes to trust no one.

Edna is looking at me now, and suspiciously at that, so I unravel my fingers and return her glare. “What?” I say, “just going to make fun of us?”

“Make fun of you?” Her smile wilts into a frown. Her brows arch. “I’m so sorry!” she wails, “is that what it seemed like I was doing?”

…

It was what you were doing.

“Edna! No!” Ronnie says, “please, we’d love to be shown around.”

I give Ronnie a questionable look. His reply comes as a dumb grin and a stupid thumbs up.

Somehow, what he says works however, because both Edna and her dad motion for us to follow whilst they lead us out of the darkness. As we walk, I look down to my feet. There are still traces of the fresh white paint I’d stepped on in the parking lot where we’d fallen asleep. Glancing over my shoulder, I take one final look at Ronnie’s car, illuminated by the blinking lightbulb of a single dying spotlight; that hangs low from the ceiling.

Ronnie and I take a step out of the metallic door that shrieks as it shuts with a bang. I peer upward and see clouds passing us by. I blink. We’re now facing a deck, fog, and the sound of unkempt waves.

Gaping, I take a step back, but my shoulder hits the door’s firm handle. I flinch, and pause, and turn to face Edna.

She tilts her head. She smiles, “What’s wrong?” she asks.

I avert her gaze. “Nothing, I say.

I definitely don’t trust her.