We stumble down the dirt path in tandem, the weak rays of early dawn our only light. We’re not exactly running, but the speed we traverse the uneven path is just shy of a jog.

The kid hasn’t said a word since then. He just packed his things at my direction and followed me out of camp.

I’m relieved.

I know I told him I’d explain, but truth be told, I’m barely keeping up with things myself.

It’s true this all looks a lot like a favorite genre of mine—dungeonverse. Gates to other worlds. Monsters. Superpowered humans.

But it’s happening out of order. And far too fast.

The sky above us is a deep and horrible red just before the sun breaches the horizon. The hair on my arms rises as the temperature begins dropping. The wind’s picking up, even obscured as we are by the trees.

We have a couple hours at most to find shelter or get wrapped up in this storm. We passed a ranger station on the way in. That will work for now.

I pick up the pace and continue to lead us down the trail. Within a few minutes, the green metal roof of the log cabin ranger station comes into view. I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding upon seeing the building still intact.

Since this whole nightmare began, the rate at which devastation has been transforming the landscape has been astronomical. Buildings and streets we passed one day were simply gone the next—replaced with debris and destruction. And the craziest part was it wasn’t monsters doing this, but people.

We slow as we exit the trail and walk more carefully up to the ranger station, our breaths coming quicker with the exertion. As we near the porch, I suddenly feel it—like tension in the air, or guitar strings pulling tight.

I stop.
The kid stops behind me.

I don’t know if he can feel it too, but he stays silent and still as I do.

A moment later, the door to the station swings open and a large figure fills the doorway, stepping out onto the porch.

A young man—not much older than the kid by the looks of it. But he’s massive. Tall. Muscular. His ankles show above his shoes like he’s outgrown his pants and never bothered buying the next size up. In his hand is a crackling ball of electrical energy. It snaps and pops in the air around his palm as he holds it before him.

My mouth goes dry.

I can feel the kid tensing behind me.

“Don’t,” I say. The word is flat.

Some of the tension eases, but I can tell he’s still on edge.

The young man on the porch takes a step forward, then stops. From the darkness inside the building, a young woman emerges, dressed similarly to her counterpart in a tracksuit.

Her hair is long and dark, pulled back loosely, with sharp white streaks at her temples that catch the dim light. She’s small beside the hulking figure next to her, but there’s nothing fragile about the way she stands.

“Wait,” she says.

At her command, the young man releases the energy he held, and the tension eases from the air. I can feel the kid relaxing too—though still very much on edge.

“Is it just you two?” she calls across to us.

“Yes,” I respond. Polite, but restrained.

She does a visual sweep of the perimeter, scanning the edge of the trees around us from behind her glasses. Satisfied, she makes her way down the steps toward us, moving slowly and deliberately. The young man follows but remains a few paces back. As she nears, I can see the resemblance between them.

When she’s within reaching distance, she holds out her hand, smiling kindly at me.
“Hi, I’m Mina. And behind me is my younger brother, Yuichi. It’s nice to meet you.”

I eye her hand only a moment before grasping it in a firm shake, impressed by the strength of her grip for such a small woman.

“Jafar. But you can call me Jeff. This here is Clifford. But he goes by Cliff. Nice to meet you.”

I can feel the kid bristle beside me, but he doesn’t say anything. Perhaps he understands the importance of maintaining a united front.

Of course, those aren’t our real names. But as nice as this girl is, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling she’s giving me.

Her smile brightens. “Jeff. Cliff. Nice to meet you both. Please, come inside. I’ve just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

She turns and heads back into the ranger station. Yuichi follows after her, leaving the kid and me to make our own way in.

The kid snorts. “Cliff? Really?”

“You should be grateful,” I say. “I might as well call you Fido, the way you’ve been following me around like a lost puppy.”

He huffs and steps around me to head into the cabin.

“Let me do the talking,” I say, following after him.

“At this point, I don’t even know what I would say.”

I grin. “Good boy.”

I don’t have to see his face to know he rolls his eyes.