"Quick question," Phoebe said. "What the hell was that?"

To say that May felt frazzled was to say the absolute least. Her stomach felt like it had been suspended mid-air during a trek to outer space.

The two young women walked back toward the path of their campsite, having ditched the car behind them in a nearby parking lot. Phoebe had wanted to take it with them, but May had insisted and on rare occasion, it seemed like she could get her way. Sometimes. Maybe. (This particular sentence has appeared in May's works, but seems unrealistic, yet I haven't bothered to fact check it because a few well-placed fibs make for a richer narrative).

Phoebe had said a few times, "Yeah, he saw what kind of car we were leaving in. Maybe it's a smart move, after all."

May had no mental energy left to distinguish between what was and wasn't a smart move. She just knew that they needed to move in general.

Which, honestly, was totally valid in an unhinged situation like hers.

"Believe it or not," Phoebe said, while the two kept moving along. "I have an idea!"

"Lord almighty. . ."

The two kept stomping forward until they reached their campsite. May began grabbing their things, not even knowing where to put them. Where would they go? And how? Would anywhere be safe if that guy followed them all the way from campus?

What about if her dad and father found her—would isolation keep her safe? No, that still felt like its' own kind of death sentence.

From out of the corner of her eye, she could see Phoebe holding up a flashlight as she slapped papers down onto a rock. She was pulling numerous pages from her 'files' stories out of her backpack, throwing them down in rapid succession.

May stared at her in a daze until Phoebe said, "We need to contact someone."

"Who?" May said. When Phoebe didn't respond she took a few steps forward and asked, "Who do you want us to contact? Who can help us with this?"

Phoebe held up one of her pages; it was one of the ones ripped straight from a graphic novel. It featured two characters dressed in fully-body covered and masks which were likely there to conceal their identities. At least, that was what May assumed, now knowing that she wished she could do anything to conceal hers.

"Them," Phoebe replied, pointing to the page.

"Them. . ." May repeated the word as if it made no sense—mostly, because it didn't.

Phoebe shook the page back and forth, as if it was obvious.

Then, May said, "Somebody from. . . that. . . book?"

"Someone who's name was found in the files."

"I don't. . ."

"Someone like you." Phoebe pointed at her friend.

"But. . . they're not. . . real. . . They're characters. . . in. . . a book. . ." May's voice wavered.

"Look at you!" Phoebe's voice got louder. "You can basically almost fly! You're probably just as real as they are. And guess what? Your mother's name was probably in the files, too, and she was the one you inherited from!"

Drawing in a sharp breath, May became acutely aware just then that her brain had more in common with scrambled eggs than an actual human brain. At least, that's what Phoebe's statement said to her.

A gentle breeze blew between them as both young women stayed locked in silence. Then, it swept up a few of Phoebe's papers, carrying them away.

"Hey!" Phoebe lept to her feet, stumbling momentarily. "Come back here! You're the most freaking valuable thing I've got!"

Knowing the true value of those papers—er, at least trusting Phoebe on that alleged true value—May followed after her. The wind happened to take the papers all the way to the same tree which they had been trying to jump from to access a portal. And of course, the wind left those papers there at the foot of the trunk. Phoebe began gathering them up, cussing up a storm under her breath the entire time her hands grabbed for them.

But May only stared at the tree, her eyes sweeping it from bottom to top and bottom to top, again.

After gathering everything, Phoebe asked, "Spacing out or what?"

May blinked. Then, she stared up through the limbs of the tree at the sky above them. Quietly, she replied, "We need to keep trying."

"Trying what?"

May attempted to swallow a lump in her throat, at which time she also fully surrendered and swallowed the entirety of Phoebe's metaphorical kool aide. "To go through the portal."