The fire drill goes off, the class goes outside; the earth starts to shake. The ground beneath our feet starts to crack and give in. Many of us fall to our deaths, we are the lucky few who survived with no way to our friends or relatives, or anything except each other.

   The sky, either from the fire that set off the drill or another catastrophe we have yet to realize, turns red. The red sky stares at us; we stare back. We walk towards the school’s exit, avoiding the cracked surface beneath our feet. We walk towards the sky, not as a group. We are facing other directions, still seeing the sky in clear view, dispersed. We go off alone, going towards the sky, the bright, blinding, blazing red sky, and we become just me.

   I head north. I’m not sure how far north I have gone. I just… walk. I’m not sure how long. I don’t know where I am now. All I remember is the red sky. It’s gone now, my compass. My only sense of direction is lost—just as much as I am. I stop walking. I look up above me. There are still stars in the sky, even after all that has happened. Despite it all, I still see the stars. I sleep, not very peacefully, but my eyes are closed. I feel either asleep or dead. There’s not really a line separating the two anymore now, is there? I sleep. I sleep. I think I do.

   Brightness wakes me. It’s not the sky. The sky doesn’t really seem to be there when I wake up. There is only…well, there’s only nothing. Not like the kind of nothing, like if someone were to ask, “whatcha’ doing?” and you say “nothing.” Because that is still something deep down. This was the kind of nothing that is actually the absence of something: that kind of nothing.

   Recap: there is nothing replacing the sky. I had just woken up. I feel that if I don’t recap then I will lose myself here. I don’t want to do that. I’m out here for a reason. I walked towards the sky for a reason. I was walking north, wasn’t I? Shit, I didn’t recap that. Should I head in another direction? No, I should stay to the north. Hopefully I’ll find some food. I’m getting hungry. I bet everyone is, too. Are they all okay? I haven’t seen anyone heading that direction since this began, but now I’m going north in search of food.

   I walk again. It feels as if all I have done is walk. Walk and think, think of everything, of nothing. Does it even matter? My stomach growls.

   I walked past a sign that read ‘Hopland’ a few minutes back. I remember Hopland. I remember driving through it. The cemetery beyond the hills and the rusty green bridge above the Russian River. The river was never high from what I remember. Most of it was surrounded by the lushness of thick green trees and shrubs. Not like the green color of the bridge, the type of green of something that’s alive. I walk the narrow road to the center street that runs through the small town. I walk along the vineyards and pass the exit of the casino.

   There’s actually little worth rememb ering about Hopland, at least in this state. There weren’t a lot of people that inhabited it, and now there’s even less. I know not if that’s because they all fell below the surface or if it’s because they too saw the red light that took up the entire sky. I see The Bluebird Café. It still looks intact, unfazed by the crack in the concrete street beside it. The big wooden sign is not on the side of the building like how I remember. Was it on the side to begin with? I didn’t drive through Hopland very often, so my memory is a little hazy. I balance along the cracked concrete, forgetting the fact that I can fall through with one misstep. I open the screen door of the Bluebird Café and walk in. The booths and the barstools are empty. The kitchen behind the counter also looks like it hasn’t seen a living soul in decades, and it has only been a little over a day. There aren’t any people, I can’t find anyone. I don’t know if I want to either. Do they want to be found? No, I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think about what the red sky and earth opening up mean. What have other people seen? Do I even want to know? My stomach growls again, connecting me once again with reality. I focus on the kitchen at the Bluebird, and think about finding food.

   I was able to find a piece of chicken-fried steak. Anything automatically tastes better when fried like chicken. Anything is automatically unhealthy when doing so too, but all health meant now was survival. I heated up the chicken-fried steak in the still-working microwave beyond the front counter, in the kitchen. Electricity still worked. How does that happen? I shouldn’t question it: I might jinx it. Don’t want that now, do we? My steak had only been in the microwave for a couple seconds, and now I would prefer to eat it while warm. While the steak was heating up in the microwave, I ventured into the booths beyond the counter closer to the screen door entrance. I found a backpack. Looks like the owner of it was about to go hiking when they stopped in for a hearty breakfast before making their way outdoors. They never got to go on their hike. This hike was probably something they were planning and their plans probably fell through the earth along with them. Why am I thinking like this? Why am I getting worked up over a backpack I found?

   The sound of the bell from the old microwave made me jump. Its ding showed that the steak was done and ready to eat. I’m not used to it being so quiet like this. I’m not used to being alone. The backpack reminds me that there are other people. I take it with me; it could come in handy, and it’s not like the owner will ever need it again—not where they are. I found trail mix and hiking boots in the bag. There’s a tiny first aid kit and a thermal blanket. There doesn’t seem to be a change of clothes. I’ll need some of those. I take some extra food, the non-perishable stuff. I also take some sodas and bottled waters. I eat the chicken-fried steak while on my way out of the Bluebird Café, trying my best to avoid the cracks and cave-ins of the concrete at my feet.

   There’s a store across what used to be a road. It’s like a tent, and around the tarp are tie-dye tapestries. As you enter the tent, a gust of old incense hits me. Other things are sold secretly—out of sight to make sure the wrong person does not step in and see whatever is behind the counter. The store is called ‘CaliKind’ as it says on all the tie-dyed clothing. I took a couple of the shirts. I took a variety of tank tops and long sleeves and hoodies. The pants didn’t look suitable for anything since they were those thin material fit n flares. I guess I’ll have to search for other pants. Right now my shorts should be good.

   I’ve been thinking a little with this extra alone time, thinking about Hopland. I would have everything I need here if I stayed, right? There’s food, clothes, water, shelter. That’s all that was there before this all happened. The only thing that changed is that this town became less populated. Should I stay? Should I keep going? If I do keep going, I should find a map. That’s a good idea actually. I know where I am now, but not where to head.

   I struggle to find a map. My phone won’t show my location or any other. I guess there’s no more service. How can that be while the electricity still works? So I can charge my phone, but I can’t use it? Okay…[#*@&] it. I’m not staying here. Map or no map; roads or no roads, I’m going to keep going. I’m going to keep going north until there is no more north left for me to travel.

   Miles down the road, I see something in the distance. There is a line of road in front and behind me, but there is something else on this stretch of road. It’s blurry from where I am. I’m around a quarter mile from Willits. This freeway is not what it used to be. Then again, people used to say this before everything changed: it was never what it used to be. The cracks in the Earth’s surface look more violent now, freshly protruding even. The concrete of the freeway looks like it was freshly open. Dust and dirt along the side of the road is turned and makes the air hazy and even harder to see those blurry shapes in the distance, about a quarter mile from where I stand. I shield my eyes to block the dusty air. I squint, thinking that might help me see what’s so blurry out there. It does nothing but decrease my ability to see. I have no choice but to walk closer to the town a quarter mile away. No choice but to walk into Willits. It could be dangerous, but then again, there aren’t many options besides danger anymore. Like walking aimlessly on a freeway without any sense of where this road is taking me is actually a safe alternative. Doing this seems like a waste of time too, but so does everything else. Why am I still walking without a direction when I can just give up? I’m starting to think I won’t find anyone else. If there isn’t a point to all this, I may at least satisfy my curiosity and head towards the blur, head towards Willits, towards the trouble.

   Now I’m close enough to where the blur is coming into focus. God, how I wish this thing was still only a blur in the distance. From a quarter mile away, that’s all it was. I’m close enough to see it, but not for it to see me. Close to this thing, there’s a couple—two girls. She’s tall, with wide hips and sturdy legs and looks somewhat older than me. She’s wearing a baseball cap over a head of wild curls. The other girl standing behind her is quite short, tears streaks trailing down her plump, rosy cheeks. She wears an oversized jacket; it probably belongs to the taller girl who is standing in front of the smaller girl, clutching a sledgehammer in her fists. They are facing something horrific, something not human but with a very similar anatomy. It had a head and torso, two actually. It had many arms: eight, actually. It looked like a spider with its first torso of four arms attached to its head. Another set of four arms reached from its other torso in place of its legs. It had no face: no eyes, no nose, and no ears. It had a mouth where its chest would be. It looked like the mouth had been cut right down the middle of it. Its teeth were sharp and crooked, with multiple tongues licking the teeth and gums and chest. It snarled and gnashed its teeth at the taller girl holding the sledgehammer.

   I was afraid. The smaller girl with the larger jacket was afraid, crying. The taller girl with the sledgehammer was not afraid but angry. The beast snarled, and she snarled back. She charged towards the beast and slammed the sledgehammer down hard against its head. The mouth on its chest opened wider, revealing a new row of teeth. It roared out in pain and anger. It clutched the top of its head, clawing at it with two of its multiple hands. The girl with the sledgehammer did not hesitate or give any chance for it to regain energy or have the upper hand. She swung that sledgehammer right under the arms it stood on causing it to fall down. Using all the force she had left, she swung the hammer behind her head to bring it back down onto the beast’s head once again, smashing the thing into a pulp. She beat its chest in and crushed the bones beyond its thick gray skin. Its skull oozed out a pale yellow fluid, and it was dead.

   The girl with the sledgehammer pants, removes her hat and wipes the sweat and yellow fluid from the beast off her face and forehead. Her chest heaves, and the sledgehammer falls limp in her hand. She turns around to face the smaller girl with the large jacket she was protecting. She picks up the smaller girl bridal style, tenderly bringing her closer towards her. “Are you okay,” she nearly whispers. “I will be,” the other says. She nuzzles her round face into the taller, older girl’s messy curls. They walk towards the abandoned Safeway across the shattered concrete road. I’m not sure if I should follow them, so I continue on. I walk past the mangled beast in its pale yellow bile. I need a weapon now. If this thing is what’s out here, then I’m going to need a weapon. There isn’t much to work with in Willits in terms of supplies. From what I remember about Willits, there were mostly restaurants along the road entering and leaving the town. I always remember traffic while going through it. They never really were able to finish the bypass, were they? And now it will stay unfinished. I passed by the Motel 6 and found the hardware store. There should be useful items in here, something along the lines of a sledgehammer. It seems like the most promising weapon.

   I should’ve went to a hardware store in the beginning. I could’ve in Hopland: they had one on the edge of town over by the antique store. Well, that was before I knew what was out here, before I knew a weapon would be completely necessary. I found loads of survival stuff: can opener, Swiss-army knife, lighter fluid, sledgehammer. I’m taking some of the gardening equipment too. Mostly seeds. Maybe I’ll find a nice spot to start my own settlement. Wishful thinking, I guess.

   I’m traveling further north now. I can finally make it a few miles out of Willits. Driving through Willits was always a living hell. There was always traffic and people jay walking. There’s no traffic or jay walking anymore. I can’t really say I’m happy about that though. The people here were a rare breed of Californian, backwoods-type. They were a mixture of tree-hugging herbalists and southern Confederates who sported the flag on the back of their pickup trucks. Weird people, they were. I’m finally out of there. The cracks in the concrete are becoming more frequent than they were in Willits. They look deeper and seem to have shifted the surface more, making some pieces of the concrete road rise higher than others. That could mean trouble. Whatever came out of the ground and attacked those two girls is bound to have friends, and I don’t really want to meet them either.

   I look for anything strange in the large cracks in the earth. I may just have been paranoid, but who wouldn’t be? If you witnessed an attack like that you would be scared too. I am still scared, terrified actually. I’m terrified of that thing, and if there are more of them, then I’ll never be okay here because “here” will be completely transformed into a terrible new place. I’m terrified now because I’m starting to get too tired to continue walking, and I don’t know if I’ll find a safe place to sleep soon. I don’t know if I’ll be safe sleeping by myself either. I am completely alone out here. I don’t know if there is anyone out here that could help me, and now I am too far away from Willits to turn back. I have nowhere to go but forward, and I don’t know how far forward I have to go before I am somewhat safe from what is out here. I don’t know much of anything anymore. All I know is that I have to keep going now. I can’t do anything else but just keep walking further north.

   A sign on the side of the highway told me that Laytonville is just one mile away. At this point, the pain in my feet make even a single mile seem like so much more. And the sun looks like it’ll be setting soon, so this mile really needs to be a quick one. I’m not sure how much longer I can take walking in these hiking boots. They never made it on that hiking trip someone else had planned for them. At least they’re being put to the same amount of use. I just wish they were my actual size. They’re slightly big. I had to wear two pairs of socks to make them fit a little more comfortable, but now the leather backs are rubbing my heels raw. I just have to keep walking this mile in someone else’s hiking boots.

   I finally come to a decent resting area. Well, maybe not too “decent.” It’s a health foods store called MendoSun. The place is more of an herb shop than anything with counters upon aisles of healing herbs for anything from acne to menopause, all the way to relief for internal wounds. I might actually take the last one, just in case. Others are for sleep deprivation and depression, which I’m also going to grab. Beyond the herbal remedies are actual shelves and aisles of food products, most of them being gluten free or vegan. Everything else in the grocery store is metal aisles on which everything is stacked and books about the health benefits of marijuana. I stored some more appetizing food in the backpack-meant-for-someone-else. I carefully took off the leather hiking boots and the blood-soaked socks. I’m glad there was a first aid kit in the backpack now. I taped up my heels and put on a new pair of socks I got while at Calikind in Hopland. I rolled one of my spare sweatshirts into a little pillow and rested my head on it. Finally, I can get a somewhat decent sleep away from the terrors that reside beyond the sliding door. My eyelids started to fall, and I gave into them as I drifted off to a well-deserved slumber.

   There is a darkness that takes over all my vision. I feel like I’m rising above something, but I don’t know what. A small circle of light appears as I rise, and it grows as I ascend further and further until all I see is light. I look around all the light and see some rather familiar signs. Am I in Willits? I see the Skunk Train Station and the Safeway and the gigantic sign above my head that clearly states that I’m in Willits. But why? Now, I’m walking towards the Safeway parking lot. I see two girls. One looks quite tall, but still I tower over her. The other is much shorter. Maybe they can help me; it’s worth a try. I walk towards them. The taller one has her back turned but the smaller one doesn’t. And she screams when she sees me, alarming the taller girl. She doesn’t look too happy. She runs towards the entrance of the Safeway and retrieves a sledgehammer next to the potted plants. She sprints back to the smaller girl and pushes her out of the way, charging towards me with the heavy sledgehammer. I back up, not knowing why she’s charging at me. I ask her why she’s attacking me, but she doesn’t respond. I back out of the Safeway parking lot and onto the street below the Willits sign. I ask her again, “why are you trying it hit me?” I crouch down a little to ask the smaller girl who was behind her, but she’s crying. Tears fall from her round, delicate cheeks, and she weeps loudly. I stop asking. That’s when the sledgehammer hit my forehead. I teeter on my feet, unable to regain my balance. I clench my head to stop the ringing I feel. My temples throb. The sledgehammer is quick to knock me to the ground. The taller girl screams and swings the sledgehammer above her head, about to bring it down. I scream loud enough to ring my still throbbing head. I sound monstrous. It is not my scream; it’s even not human. The sledgehammer comes down. I shriek my nonhuman shriek, this time even louder than the first.

   I open my eyes and still hear the screaming. It was all just a dream, and now I’m back in MendoSun, and I am not alone. There is something with me. I hear the sound of broken glass crack against the floor. Whatever is in here shrieks with each step as glass cuts into its feet. It growls under its heavy breath as it walks closer. I can’t bear to see how close it is, cowering behind the chip aisle, curling my knees inward. I grabbed the sledgehammer, I held it close to my chest. My knuckles turn white from my grip on the polished wooden handle. I hear whatever is in here with me let out yet another growl. It edges closer to the aisle I am hiding behind. It’s in the soda aisle. I try my best to keep my breaths low, but the beast hears me and creeps closer to the chip aisle; I can see its teeth through the empty spaces of the shelf.

   I gather my strength. I gather everything I have left inside of me. Clutching my weapon tightly, I throw myself against the metal shelf rack, and it topples against the creature. It scurries to try to get out from under it, I hold it down under my weight and stand back up on the shelf under my feet. I swing the sledgehammer behind my head about to bring it down to the thing’s head until it whimpers. I hesitate. It looked at me with its multiple eyes and I stop completely. I can’t bring myself to kill it. I step off the metal rack and pull it off the creature. It sniffs me and growls, but it doesn’t attack. It limps to the corner of the store, over by the deli counter where I used to get sandwiches and curls into ball on the floor. I can’t help but stare at it and its injured feet. I examine the rest of it. The thing had a head but its mouth took up all of it; it had shoulders and a torso and regular arms, but it had another set of smaller limbs near its stomach that were scaly like a lizard’s. It was very thin. Its spine and pelvis stuck out far from its pale gray skin. It had eyes, but not in the normal place eyes should be. The eyes covered its upper body around its chest and collarbone; there were a couple, like two or three on the neck. It looked peaceful the way it was sleeping. Watching it was making me tired, but I don’t know if it will be friendly if I were to sleep next to it. If I were to let it remain alive, I would have to make some adjustments.

   I walk over to it, holding the sledgehammer at my side. I doesn’t stir to the sound of my footsteps. Still, I tiptoe over and knock its head with the sledgehammer. It’s unconscious. I take one of its arms, which is now heavier than I thought it would be. I pull it straight out and bend its elbow the opposite way. I slam the sledgehammer against the elbow and break the joint. The bones break through the thick skin. I cut the excess skin around the wound away. I do the same to the other arm. I pull a coil of rope from my backpack; it looks like it was meant for rock climbing, one of the many activities on a trip the previous owner will never take. I tie one side of the rope around the monster’s neck and the other to a wooden beam in the grocery store. I walk out through the broken glass door. I explore the premises of the store. Behind the back of the store, I find a small pile of junk and rummage through some decent sized PVC pipes. I pick the longest one and bring it back into the grocery store. I string the rope through the pipe and tie the other piece of rope into a loop. There: the perfect leash.

To the next chapter