She woke suddenly when she heard someone knocking on her window. She rolled out of bed and peered through it to see Coco, wearing what appeared to be a bedsheet, perched on top of a streetlight.

“I guess that’s the signal,” she said as she pulled on her clothes, grabbed her backpack, and left the hotel. Once she reached the streetlight, Coco jumped down, breaking her fall with a few beats of her wings. She landed in a crouched position before she stood up to face Erica, looking exhausted.

“You should come inside and get some sleep,” Erica told her.

“There’s no time,” Coco said, breathing heavily. “I need clothes,” she added.

“Right,” Erica said with a sigh, pulling off her backpack and unrolling the pair of pants and the long-sleeve t-shirt she had packed for her. “I don’t think you’ll be able to fit this on over the wings though,” she pointed out.

“Whatever,” Coco said as she hurried into the pants. “Just hand me the scissors.” She used them to cut the necessary holes in the back of her shirt for her wings to fit through and then put it on, panting even harder by the time she finished.

“You’re solid now?” Erica asked.

“Almost entirely,” Coco answered. “I still can’t smell anything though, although, technically, I’ve always been solid.” Coco quipped as she looked into the sky at the two moons, both now almost entirely full.

“I guess, at least, that part of your theory was right,” Erica said as she looked at Coco under the double bright moonlight, covered in sweat, clearly exhausted, wearing Erica’s clothes underneath a bedsheet she wore like a makeshift cloak; she was beautiful.

“Alright,” Coco said, turning to look at Erica. “Time for phase two.”

“What’s phase two?” Erica asked.

“Do you trust me?” Coco asked her.

“I’m offended by the question,” she answered.

Coco fixed her gaze on her. “Do you trust me?” she asked again.

Erica felt a significance in the heft of her voice that made her want to squirm, but something about her eyes made her feel that, if she did, something irrevocable would be lost. “With my life,” she finally answered.

Coco’s eyes widened slightly; Erica thought she looked surprised. “Order a ride to Essex,” she said after taking a moment to compose herself. “Also, give me your bag,” she added.

Their ride pulled up a few minutes later. The driver was a large man with a scraggly salt-and-pepper beard, named Kent, who greeted them politely as they climbed into the backseat.

The man made small talk as they drove, cracking jokes and reminiscing about his own time in New York City, where he had grown up.

“So, what are two pretty New York girls doing going to bum-fuck Essex this time of night?” he asked.

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Erica lied. “There’s a glamping spot that’s supposed to be great this time of year,” she said.

“Oh, congratulations!” he said, seeming genuinely happy for them. “My son married his high school sweetheart. When he came out to me that he was gay and his best friend was his fiancé, his mom said I had to act surprised, but come on, everybody knew,” he told them.

“Anyway, I’m just glad he’s happy,” he said before he began fussing with his phone; the GPS signal had been lost.

“Your car smells good,” Coco suddenly said, unzipping Erica’s bag and reaching inside of it.

“Oh, thanks,” he said with a smile. “I try to keep the place nice,” he joked while poking at his phone screen.

Suddenly, Coco, who was sitting directly behind him, extended her arm out and pressed the blade of the pocket knife that Erica had put in her backpack against the side of his neck. 

“Don’t move, Kent,” Coco whispered, barely audible over the sound of the radio. “If I slash your carotid artery, you’ll bleed out in under a minute.”

“What the f—” Kent’s words were cut short when Coco used her other hand to pull his hair, pinning his head against the back of the seat, and sliced into his neck just hard enough to draw blood.

“Oh, shit,” Erica said in horror, feeling a sudden queasiness when she realized what the hidden significance had been in Coco’s words when she had asked if she trusted her.

“Shhh, do what I say, and I promise you’ll get out of this alive, Kent,” Coco said. “Now, pull over,” Coco ordered, her eyes unblinking as he slowed them down and stopped the car on the side of the road. “Good, keep your hands on the wheel and don’t move a single muscle until I say so, Kent. Erica, get out and open his door,” Coco commanded.

“Coco, look, just calm down, ok? This is crazy,” Erica pleaded with her.

“Erica, either you get out and open Kent’s door right now, or I kill him and do it myself,” Coco said flatly, her eyes remaining totally fixed on the driver.

“With my life,” Erica had said. Had she fully appreciated what that meant? She was not sure.

“Do you trust me?” Coco asked again.

Erica looked at Coco in terror, her breath caught in her throat as she tried to process it all. She imagined herself running out of the car, leaving all the madness behind, but she couldn’t. Erica loved her.

“With my life,” she said, tears clouding her vision, though she did not let them fall. She opened her door and ran around to open the driver’s door. 

Coco crawled between the centerpiece into the passenger seat next to Kent, the knife still pressed to his neck, and instructed him to crawl out of the car on all fours and lie down on the street, reminding him of the son and family he needed to make it back to.

Kent cursed her out as he moved but did exactly as she instructed. Erica tried not to look into his eyes, which were wide with terror.

Erica looked at Coco, kneeling on top of the friendly driver, a knife pressed to his neck. She took a deep breath and then ran into the front driver’s seat. Coco jumped into the driver’s seat and they drove off a moment later.

She watched Kent rise from the ground through the back window of the car before sitting forward in her seat and buckling her seatbelt. Erica felt sick. What had she done? The adrenaline shooting through her body left her shaking; tears poured freely down her face now that they were driving away.

She turned to look at Coco, who was driving the speed limit despite everything that had just happened. “I really hope you know what you’re doing because I’m pretty sure I just committed felony carjacking and assault with a deadly weapon,” she said, her throat tight.

“Relax,” Coco said, sounding as if she might pass out any moment. “I was the one who pulled the knife. If he testifies in court, you can say you were under duress, though that’s unlikely to ever happen,” she said.

“Oh yeah? You think we can get to fucking Canada before the cops catch us?” Erica asked, a throbbing stress headache growing behind her eyes.

“Check your phone,” Coco said, her eyes looking gaunt and she was breathing heavily.

Erica reached into the backseat to grab her phone. “There’s no signal,” she said once she had it.

“Kent’s phone lost signal too, just before I made my move,” Coco said.

“Ok, so what does that mean?” Erica asked.

“It means we’re out of time,” Coco answered as she clicked on the car’s FM radio.

An emergency broadcast sounded: a large moon-like object had appeared in the sky; its gravitational pull had caused massive tidal waves; nearly every coastal city was underwater; GPS and internet satellites were out of orbit; and a volcanic eruption in southern Oregon threatened to cover the entire West Coast in volcanic ash.

Erica went numb as she tried to process it all, unsure of what to say. “How did you know this was going to happen?” she asked.

“I worked out the physics of it all by calculating the size and distance. After that, it was all a pretty foregone conclusion,” Coco responded.

“Ok, but was it really necessary to jack that guy’s car?” Erica asked, overwhelmed.

“Vermont is about to be swarming with tens of millions of refugees. On top of the obvious logistical challenges presented, what do you think people are going to think about me once the dust starts to settle? I have wings, for fuck’s sake,” Coco said.

“Fair point,” Erica responded, beginning to calm. “Umm, did you see anyone else like you when you were flying around? I saw something on social media that made me think you aren’t the only one something like this happened to.”

“I did,” Coco responded. “It’s way more than you probably think. These forests are filled with some of them. I think whatever happened to me wasn’t exclusive to humans. Most of the humans it happened to turned into orcs, I think. I saw some cat-people too, and a dwarf.”

Erica sighed as she leaned against the seat of the car. “This is fucking crazy,” she said.

“Yeah, no shit,” Coco replied. “Canada has thousands of square miles of forest with zero human habitation. The farther we can get into the forests, the safer we’ll be from the coming shit show.”

“So, when you say, ‘more than I probably think,’ like, how many are you talking about?” Erica asked.

“My rough estimate? Millions, just in the Northeast, averaging from how many I saw,” Coco responded.

Coco took them down a gravel road and pulled up in front of a large house surrounded by forest. Suddenly, she opened her door and ran out to vomit, her body violently retching, though only thick saliva came out.

Erica cursed as she hurried to her side. “Coco, are you ok?” she asked. She didn’t look it; even on all fours, she looked wobbly.

“I’m fine,” Coco said, closing her eyes and slowing her breath. “Just please, go over there for a second,” she asked, gesturing back to the car.

Erica was unsure of what to do but backed away reluctantly. Coco rolled over and laid on her back, looking up at the sky for several moments before rising to her feet and brushing herself off.

“Let’s go,” Coco said with a sigh as she started toward the house.

“Where are we?” Erica asked.

“Some old lady’s house,” Coco replied as they walked up the stairs.

“Ok,” Erica said, feeling nervous, given what had just happened with their driver. “What are we doing at some old lady’s house?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything to her,” Coco said, lifting up a metal porch chair and flinging it through one of the porch windows, shattering it.

“Whoa!” Erica yelled, shielding her face from the crash.

“She’s already dead,” Coco stated before stepping through the newly created entrance.

Erica hesitated. “What, how do you know that?” she asked, looking around furtively before following behind Coco.

“Well, the cool thing about flying when you phase past the world around you is you don’t experience any wind resistance,” Coco explained as she led Erica through the house and up the stairs. “So, I got to Burlington in about three hours. Then I spent the rest of the time looking for something like this, which was pretty easy since I could fly through walls,” Coco finished, opening a door at the top of the stairs and walking through the master bedroom to find an older woman’s body lying naked on the floor of her large shower.

“Oh, shit,” Erica said. “What happened?” she asked.

“I’m guessing it was a slip and fall,” Coco said as she knelt down to check the decomposing body. “I’d say she’s been here for about a week,” she observed.

The smell was atrocious. Erica felt her stomach churning, and she rushed to the toilet to throw up. “Fuck,” Erica said, flushing the toilet and washing her face off in the sink. “Why are we here?” she asked.

“Well, we’re here for her stuff, obviously, but I think it’d be rude to ransack her house before giving her a proper burial. It feels like the least we can do,” Coco said.

“Yeah, ok,” she replied, covering her mouth and nose with her shirt to try and hide from the smell. “Let me do it though,” Erica said. She grabbed the sheets from off the bed and took a deep breath before dropping her shirt and rolling the corpse up in them, trying not to touch it with her bare hands. “You need to rest,” she insisted calmly before pulling it through the master bedroom and down the stairs.

Coco watched her with a blank expression as she pulled the body to the bottom of the landing. “Yeah, ok. Thanks,” she said.