….The thing wakes up. It looked confused at first and then realized there was missing something. It reminds me of myself, the way it woke up with the confusion, knowing something is missing, but not until the very last minute. It sees me and darts towards me ready to attack. I hold the PVC pipe away from my body. The leash keeps the distance between us. I’m glad; the look in this thing’s eyes—which seem to be on its collarbone and shoulders—is anger. I get up slowly, keeping the thing at a distance with the leash; I pull the leash towards the broken glass sliding door. “Let’s go.”

   Outside MendoSun is a highway, and across the road is, from what I remember, a sketchy tapestry store. I remember the sight of these tapestries flying in the faint breeze. I see one with a sugar skull and another of Marilyn Monroe with tattoos, tattoos she didn’t have until after her death. I continue north, pulling the leash behind me; the thing struggles. To keep it moving I throw kale chips out for it to eat. I used to eat kale chips when I would come here. I remember my father telling me that they shouldn’t be consumed by humans. Now they’re consumed by whatever this thing is. My father was right after all. I remember so much about him and how all the memories I remember best take place here. On these same roads, going north. But they’re not these same roads anymore. The sense of loneliness took them over—along with me. All I have left as a source of company is something that would kill me if it had a chance. I will not give it that chance.

   I enter the center of Laytonville. This is the first time I’ve entered a city on this endless journey, and I had some company with me. It’s not the best, but it’s something. Laytonville looks exactly the same since that last time I saw it; it hasn’t changed at all. There were no people in this town to begin with. The shops I remember are still pretty much intact. There’s a gas station and a small drive-tru coffee shop called Pour Girls. I appreciate the pun to the point that it makes me chuckle out loud. I continue walking through the town. It’s rather small. Doesn’t take that much time to walk through. I meet the edge of town towards the redwood trees. Finally—trees. But if something like the thing I’m dragging behind me was in plain sight, then what else lurks beyond, unseen within the trees?

   I’ve always loved the way the light peeks through the trees over my head, and the way I can see the golden rays protrude from above. The air feels cooler when there’s less sunlight. I like it, but I know I’ll regret saying that when it gets later in the evening. The thing, I decided to call it Josette, walks slower. I don’t know why I named it Josette, I just liked the name; it sounds unique but still has a common feel to it. I throw out some kale chips, but it stays slow. I started talking to Josette. It looks like it can hear me, despite the fact it has no ears. It looks interested when I turn around. I try to make eye contact with it. So far Josette is better at staring contests. It’s won 6-2 so far, but who’s keeping track? I guess it’s easier to stare when you have eyes up your spine and along your neck and shoulders. Josette’s arms, the ones I ripped off, look different; not like the wounds are closing, but like the arms themselves are growing back. They look stronger than the previous ones. The bone that used to be showing now has muscle tissue growing back around it, following the thick grey skin. Looks like a slow process. I should keep a closer eye on Josette now.

   It gets darker. I can’t see the setting sun with the trees in the way, but I can tell it is. The sky peeking through turns into lovely shades of orange and gold with faint purple clouds brushing across it delicately, very ironic for my current state, parading around the apocalypse with a creature I dismembered. This is only from what I can actually see, anyway. I don’t think it would be safe to sleep with Josette. I don’t think it’ll even be safe to sleep in the forest in general. I don’t really need it after the slumber in MendoSun. I continue on my way with Josette trailing a short distance behind me. There’s a clearing in the woods, a small pasture and creek by the road. When driving, this area is used only to pull over to let cars pass ahead. No matter how windy the road, I remember there were always impatient people who just wanted to be ahead. I could’ve been going 60 miles in a 50 mile speed limit. They were especially on this road. Like, why would someone drive that fast on a dangerous, windy road at 11am on a Sunday? It’s not a race, assholes. I’m sure Sunday brunch can wait, you impatient bastards!

   The cracks in the surface are not to be seen. I haven’t seen any since Laytonville. Would that mean it’s safe to sleep? I’m not sleeping anyway; I’m just curious. I reach into the backpack that used to belong to a hiker and took out an all-natural energy shot from MendoSun. It didn’t taste good, but I downed the substance in the small glass bottle anyway. I may regret many things in life, but that was the biggest mistake I have ever made in my entire life. I crouch down, clutching my stomach; it churns inside me and I vomit the substance back up. A shiver runs up my spine when the taste exits my mouth. It tastes even worse coming up and out than it did going down. I reach into the backpack once more and pull out a water bottle. I take a big gulp and swish the stuff out of my teeth and off my tongue. It doesn’t help. I turn around towards where I dropped Josette’s leash until I realize it’s gone. The thing and the leash: gone. The PVC pipe is on the dirt and bark covered ground. Damn, that can’t be good at all now, can it? I back myself against a tree and clutch my sledgehammer tight. I shake from the cold, and from the feeling from vomiting up that energy drink, but mostly from the thought of Josette getting loose, even more so because she is in the process of growing back her arms. I don’t know if it’s better to stay here, or go find it before it regrows its appendages. I look around into the shrubs nearby and slightly past the trees I can see. I get up slowly, and immediately feel a head rush. I support myself against the tree. I press on, walking away from the tree and towards the direction the PVC pipe was abandoned. I pick up the energy shot bottle. “Best before: Oct. 12, 2007,” it read.

   I walk off the path, off the road, and into the woods. I’ve never been out here through all my years of driving this road. I am fairly certain I can get lost in here. I’m not heading north anymore; I don’t know which direction I’m heading. I’m just trying to find Josette. The sky gets dimmer, and it gets harder to see since it’s always dark beneath the trees. I pick up my pace, looking around more. I break out into a sprint in the trees, pine needles brush against my cheeks and a few get in my mouth and eyes. I take out the sledgehammer and clutch it in front of me once more. I breathe heavily, chest heaving in and out. That’s enough running for now. Even in a dangerous situation like this, I still don’t like running. Not even if my life depends on it—which it does.

   I hear Josette beyond the trees a couple feet from me. I hide behind one and slowly make my way towards it. Josette remains in the open, its arms almost fully recovered; the thick grey skin all clean and new, untouched by dirt and grime from the outside world, fully exposed now. Its newly grown digits move joint by joint, feeling the world around it. I get closer while it’s distracted. I creep down behind a tree stump. A twig snaps under my feet. Josette turns in my direction. I am still, heart pounding. A bead of sweat runs down my temple. I hear it above the tree stump, lowering its head. Its mouth towards me. I hold the sledgehammer by the end of the handle and swing upward. I hear a crack and Josette pulls its face back before howling in pain, it backs up, trying to regain steadiness. I get up and dash towards the monster and swing the hammer once more, aiming for the legs. It’s down, flat on its back. I jump on its belly, a space it can’t reach because of its recently cropped limbs. I pull out a knife and slash its chest open. I plunge the knife through the creature’s stomach over and over again, the thing oozes with a thick yellow pulp, and its fluids burst out with each stab. The pulp smells of decay the instant it mixes with the air. The fluids solidify and crumble back into its body. The thing is not moving. I sit on top of its body still grasping the knife; I vomit on the thing. Partially from the expired energy shot, mostly from the odor that triggered the nausea. I feel a haze in my head and heaviness in my eyes. I black out...

   I come to, and it’s dark, even darker in the forest. I see the decaying body of Josette under me. I get up, pick up my bag and sledgehammer and walk towards the clearing, back onto the main road. My legs wobble. I fall to my knees in the middle of a pasture. Tears fall down my face. I can’t breathe. I bawl, huffing to try to breathe again. I choke on each breath and cry harder. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and count to ten; I only make it to four. I try again; I make it to eight. Once more; ten. I gain control of my breathing and try to think of why I started crying in the first place. I pull my knees close to my chest and into a ball, still trying to breathe. Josette is dead. I killed Josette. I killed… something? Then I started crying even harder.. I went this entire time without killing anything; I took the passive route inward and still walked out a killer. I didn’t need to kill Josette, but I did it mercilessly, without thinking. I never thought I would have to kill anything out here. I tried to think of anything other option and I failed in every way. I stood up from the pasture and picked up my stuff again and continued walking out of the woods and towards the unfamiliar road.

   I continue going north; I can’t lose sight of what my main mission was. What was it again? I was just walking north this entire time, so I’m going to keep going. The sun rises through the trees. The light is seen directly through and not coming from above yet—not until later. I walk slower than before, my feet dragging in a pair of shoes that don’t belong to me. I grip the straps of a backpack that was meant for someone’s hiking trip. I keep walking because that’s all I have left: just walking.

   I make my way to a clearing almost entirely in the sun. The blinding light beams and warms my face as I hold my head up towards it. Finally out of that darkness of the trees, away from the prickling feeling that travels down my spine and finally in the light. I take off my sweatshirt and place it on the grass like a picnic blanket. I rest my head down and just look up; I wonder what shapes I can see in the clouds. I wonder if any of these distractions will help me forget: forget what I did—what I killed. I stare into the sun directly, hoping it will wipe my memory. It did no such thing to help. I begin to cry again, mostly from killing Josette, partially from staring at the sun for too long. I close my eyes and try to count my breathing again. At some point I doze off...

   The darkness surrounds everything once again. I make no hesitation with this nightmare and start running. I run and run. I run through the darkness and through the chilling air, my arms moving rapidly, my legs lifting higher and quickening into a sprint. A rush of pain follows me and into my forearms as I feel something snap. My elbow joints are pulled into opposite directions and ferociously ripped off. I keep running despite the blood flowing out of my open wounds. I run faster and faster until I begin to see a small light, the end of a long tunnel. Never has light made me so happy. I pick up my pace, so fast that there was no time to react when I tripped over something I could not see in the darkness. I have no arms to break my fall, so I land on my chest. My face scrapes against the rough, graveled ground. I still see the light at the end. It’s so close to me now. I attempt to reach it, but I can’t: my arms are not there and I can’t reach it anymore. I can’t reach the end even though it seems like it’s right in front of me. I hear footsteps behind me. They grow closer. I have no courage to turn and look behind me. I attempt to get up to run away. I balance myself on what’s left of my arms, dirt and gravel touching the severed flesh and stinging the exposed muscle and joints. My heart races, and I grit my teeth through the pain. I manage to get to me knees with a false hope that I’d stand up again. The footsteps I hear are direct behind me, and something throws me back into the dust. Large hand grabs my neck and pushes me down. I kick and scream and hit their face with the bloody remains of my arms. They don’t even flinch as they tighten their grasp around my neck, applying the most pressure around my larynx, not enough to cut off my air supply but just enough to show they can. My vision starts to blur. My eye well up with tears, and I get woozy. Their other hand reaches from behind their back and pulls out a knife. The blade gleams in the dim light from the end of the tunnel. He raises the blade higher and brings it back down and into my stomach faster than I could blink. I jolt of the blade plunging through me snaps me out of sleep.

   My heart pounds like it’s going to burst from my chest, like the sound of heavy boots stomping up a flight of stairs when you think you’re home alone. I sit up from the green pasture and hold myself with my arms, complete and fully intact. From the tips of my fingers to my shoulders, they’re complete and whole. I rest my head back down on the thick sweatshirt and tears roll across my face one by one and land in a little puddle under my left temple. I bring my legs up into my chest and into a little ball. Even in this sunlight, I still feel like I’m in the dark, unable to escape no matter how bright the light may be.

   I cried myself to sleep. Even though the sun was out I still slept through all the daylight. By the time I wake up, the sun is setting. To make up for lost time, I decide to walk in the dark. Good thing I stole a flashlight from the hardware store in Willits; there was another one in the backpack, which I also stole. It would be kind of hard to hold a sledgehammer with one hand and the flashlight with the other, so I taped the flashlight to the sledgehammer. Now I just have to keep hold of my sledgehammer like always and I should be fine. I walk out of the clearing and onto the path beyond the trees. If I remember correctly, the next town is Benbow; it’s a little past these trees though, so I have a long night ahead of me.

   I’m not even sure what time it is anymore, or what day it is even. When I started walking, the sun was just going down. Around this time the sun sets at around six or seven pm. I think it’s been around an hour, so it’s probably eight. Maybe if I did something other than walking to pass the time, this walk out of the woods would go by quicker. Now what should I do? I left my headphones back at the…., so listening to music is out of the question. I actually wouldn’t wear headphones anyway because I want to hear my surroundings while I’m out here. Why haven’t I ever thought about the things I left behind until now? I guess it’s because there was no time to go back and get my stuff after the fire alarm went off at school. And seeing that red light in the sky was kind of distracting. Now that think of it, I left my art supplies at the school, and my favorite book, I know the story by heart, but I just liked going back to it when there was nothing to do; it was just so well-written, and it’s always comforting to go back to something familiar like a good book. There was another book I was reading as well; I was so close to the ending. Now I have to try to conjure up an idea of how it would end: the dog dies, and the family on the ranch grows closer through the death of their dear animal companion.

   I left behind my friends and family. I don’t even know if they’re alive or not. Were they taken by the eroding earth and what lies beneath that, or did they follow the red light in a different direction? It would be way too late to turn back now and check it out. I have to assume they’re dead and keep moving.

   I guess I could sing to myself to pass the time, but what song? From what I remember, I had a lot of Mike Krol on my iTunes; I started humming his song ‘Fifteen Minutes’ before I realized it, followed by ‘Like a Star,’ and moving on to ‘DBS Out’ by Rogue Taxidermy and then ‘Pool Boyz’ by Diet Cig. Pretty much any song that was nostalgic for the suburbs. These songs are quite short. I started singing them out loud before I knew it. I sing through the collection of oldies I remember by heart and ended up singing ‘Nights in White Satin’ by the Moody Blues through the sunrise. I even whistled the entire flute solo and kept in tune the whole way through—I probably didn’t though; I’m not a great singer. I finally made my way into Benbow when I began singing ‘Devil’s Train’ by The Lab Rats. Like every town I’ve passed through so far, Benbow is small. This town, like every other one before it, hasn’t changed; whether it’s the apocalypse or not, this town is empty.

   Surrounding Benbow is a range of trees. As I head further north, I notice this end of town has way more wilderness than the previous one. The roads are darker, as if they were touched by rain or fog. The air feels heavier, and moist from fog. I look up. The sky is an opaque and white to the point where you can actually see the thickness in the air. It’s much chillier than before. I stop walking and take the stolen backpack off my shoulders. I untie the jacket around my waist, also stolen, and put in on. I begin walking again, feeling a little more comfortable now. I should change into longer pants soon; the weather is not really suitable for shorts anymore, and they’re rather dirty from sitting around in the grass and dirt, among other things. I take in a breath, and exhale. Just as I suspected: cold enough to see my own breath, a comforting yet awful discovery. I used to enjoy the feeling, but now in this state of wandering anxiety, I can’t help but hate it. Chills are sent up my back as I walk forward with the cold air piercing past my legs and face. My skin tightens as the hair on my arms stand up straight through the jacket. I guess it would be a good idea to change into something warmer.

   I don’t have much of a wardrobe choice at the moment, so I begrudgingly put on my sweater I was wearing from school on the first day of the apocalypse. It’s not the most comfortable, and it also has dirt and blood stains from some event I don’t recall. It wasn’t there during school; the red light appeared, and there it was. Must have gotten it while I was in that trance, I guess.

   The dirty sweater helps a little, though not much. The cold air pierces my face still, prickling at my nose and cheeks. My hands feel chilled to the bone as they still grip the sledgehammer, like in the joints of my fingers. I continue walking through the cold, my pace quickening before I realized it. I almost didn’t hear the rustle in the bushes behind me because I was so lost in my own head. I turn around; there’s nothing—or at least I hope it was nothing. I’m not really in the mood to deal with anything being this cold. I hear another rustle, a twig snaps. It’s closer to me now; coming from the shrubs on my right. I stop and turn carefully, my breath heaving slowly, looking like smoke as it mixes with the chilling air.