Adrianna had never actually seen it.

She had been told stories of it since she was a little girl, and had walked miles and miles of the forest, but had never found it.

The tunnel. Could it really be that she was standing in front of the one thing she had wanted so badly? As a child she would visit it in her dreams, and it looked exactly as it did now. Was she dreaming at that very moment? She pinched the tender skin on her arm and winced in pain. This wasn’t a dream.

The very air around here seemed to shift. The forest held its breath as she stood and beheld the aged stone draped in ancient moss. She knew what would happen if she crossed the threshold. Did she dare make that step?

Yes. Yes, she would.

Adrianna closed her eyes and went inside. All at once darkness enveloped her. The air was instantly sharp and made a shiver run down her body. Slowly she began to notice the appearance of snowflakes drifting down around her as a soft light began to rise. In the distance there was a child’s giggle. Adrianna’s heart leapt. She knew that sound.

Trees came into focus, silver and stark against a winter sky. She was in an open, snow laden field. In the distance a small child was running toward her. A bright yellow woolen hat bobbed as the child ran, a spot of gold in this snowy landscape.

“Timothy!“ Adrianna exclaimed.

She knew where she was. As soon as it dawned on her, a stone dropped in her stomach. This was the day. She had to stop him.

“Timothy! Stop! Stop running!” She screamed.

The little boy stopped. Confusion clouded his face. He took a step toward her.

“No! I’ll come to you.” Adrianna said.

She trodded through the pristine snow toward the boy. On the way she stepped over a ditch. It was a ditch that had filled with water and had frozen through completely. It had killed him. One little foot had landed on that ice and had sent the boy flying forward, where his head had struck a large black rock lying a few feet away. His eyes had never opened again.

When Adrianna reached the boy, she fell to her knees and wrapped him in a tight hug. He began to giggle and try to pull away.

“Let me go, Adri!” He exclaimed.

“Never ever.” She replied with a smile.

Suddenly her world was black again.

She heard her name being called from very far away.

She rubbed her eyes and slowly the world came into focus. She was sitting on a large, moss-covered bolder in the middle of a forest. She had the strangest feeling; a feeling as if she had just awoke from a dream.

“Adri!” The voice called again. A young man came into view. He was gripping a hiking stick.

“Where did you go?” He asked.

“I…I don’t know.” She answered her brother.

All she could remember is leaving that morning to go on a hike with her little brother, and then she was waking up.

She rubbed her arms.

“I’m cold.” She said.

He looked at her and laughed.

“Cold? It’s eighty-five degrees.” He said. “Come on, let’s head back.”

She nodded.

“Yeah, let’s head back.” She replied.

“Oh hey, Timothy. Did there ever used to be an old stone arch out here somewhere?” She asked her brother.

He looked at her quizzically.

“No, I don’t think so.” He said.

Adrianna shrugged and together they headed home.

Why?

Why did she leave? Why did she forsake every single thing we have ever known while growing up? She knows better.

Her parents are long time members of the church. Her whole family is involved. She herself has been an active member of the church for as long as I can remember. She’s been a Sunday School teacher, a choir member, traveled on mission trips, and went to a Bible College. She was always the one that we just knew was a good, Christian girl. Why would she do this?

I saw her the other day, and she was wearing nail polish! Someone else said that they saw her wearing a pair of pants. I still can’t believe it. She was my best friend. We told each other everything. And now, she has fallen by the wayside. She has chosen the world. She has forsaken Christ.

I still cry when I think about her. I cry for her soul. She has chosen the life of sin and has unequivocally damned herself to hell.

Even though she has left, she does seem happy. I always see pictures of her smiling. She didn’t do that as much before. She finally got her own apartment and started her career. I mean, she seems to be doing good. But, still, her soul is lost.

Why?

The mist sat on the outstretched limbs in droplets. High in the sky somewhere there was sunshine, but by the time it reached the upturned face of the small girl, it was nothing but a glimmer of light. The world around her was shrouded in shadows.

Her feet were bare. Her skin was cold to the touch, but she didn’t mind. All she could think about was the figure in front of her. The tall, ethereal being was magnificent. Echoing in her mind she could hear the voices of the people of her village telling her to not follow it. Her whole life she had been warned about her. There were cautionary tales told to children as they sat on the knees of their mothers, and whispers in the darkness of mysterious sightings.

But, then Ophenlee saw her. There was a soft glow that clung to her pristine white robes. Raven black hair swam down the front of her body, shrouding the face of this mysterious being.

And, without a single word spoken, a feeling unlike anything Ophenlee had experienced filled her world. It was haunting, deliciously sweet, intoxicating.

She had to get closer to this being. She had to touch her, see her, simply be in her presence.

By the time the young girl’s senses snapped back for a brief moment, her feet were sunken deep into the mud surrounding the lake. For a brief moment Ophenlee fought the urge to continue pursuing her fixation, but then she could no longer resist. The icy cold of the lake’s water crept up past her knees, to her chest, and finally above her nose.

The last glimpse the young girl had was of glowing, blue eyes peering from between curtains of inky hair before the lake laid claim to her body.

It was the first quiet morning Sean had experienced in what felt like months. He had finally made it to the East coast, and the salty air was revitalizing. As he walked along the misty path that stretched out before him through a small field, he wondered what it was once used for. Someone had taken the time to lay square stepping stones several hundred feet. Was it a path to the shore for a family to fish? Was it to the neighbors’ house that he saw in the near distance? Whatever it had been for originally, those people were gone.

Sean looked over his shoulder, and then scanned the horizon. Since he had crossed over into Maine, the sightings of the living dead had dwindled. It was a relief, but also put him on edge. This had once been a populated, touristy area; the people didn’t just disappear. And, those people were now monsters wanting to tear into his flesh. So…where were they?

He walked along in silence for a while before going up a small hill. Once he got to the top, he was met by a view of the ocean. The sparkling waves crashed to the shore, punctuated by the call of seagulls.

To Sean’s right, under a tree, a large quilt was crumpled on the ground. What looked like the remnants of balloons laid strewn around. Broken bowls and chipped platters lay in haphazard heaps. A pile of soggy paper and cardboard looked like the remains of a once-wrapped gift. Soon Sean’s eyes fell on the body that lay at the foot of the tree. It was mostly bones by now, having been scavenged. It wore a flowing orange and pink dingy dress with a sash that said “Birthday Girl” stained brown. In intervals around the quilt were other bodies slumped on the ground; two young children, and another woman. Sean could almost see the scene play out like so many others had before in this new world.

He scanned the remnants of food to see if there was anything non-perishable. Among the remains of now-rotten food, he found a bottle of unopened champagne. He chuckled to himself at the irony of it all. With weary legs, he sat down on the ground, then opened the drink with a loud “pop”. Nearby he heard the familiar snarls of an animated corpse. He turned his head to see what must have been a male family member of the birthday girl starting to crawl in his direction, seemingly awakened by the noise from opening the bottle. He wasn’t moving very fast due to both of his legs missing from the knees down. The whole bottle of champagne could be finished off before he reached him.

With a nod of his head Sean tipped the bottle in the direction of the corpse of the woman and her family.

“Happy birthday.” He said, and with that took a massive swig.

The sun warmed the bare shoulders of Rose Lin as she sat on the bench watching her 6-year-old son, Calvin, play. They had decided last minute to get out of the house and enjoy the unseasonably warm weather.

Calvin was swinging, a carefree grin on his upturned face to the clear blue sky.

Rose sipped her ice-coffee and thought to herself that this was the best day they had experienced in a long time. The recent virus that had spread through their community had turned them into hermits. To be able to get out and enjoy the perfect weather was a treat.

Twenty feet away, leaning against a tree, was Thomas Kelpin. He had his index finger raised to his mouth, gnawing at the non-existent nail. He was trying his very best to focus, but the noise and words swirling around his head wouldn’t let him. The one phrase that stood out in the cacophony of it all was a simple one, but made his stomach clench with anxiety. Save him. Over and over and over.

Thomas looked at the little boy that was now running across the playground, trying to catch up with another kid. He looked safe. He looked healthy. Why was he being told to save him? Why did he keep having this inexplicable urge to grab the child and run far away from anything or anyone that could hurt him?

He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, then rubbed his eyes. When he came to the park that morning, he didn’t even know what it was for. As soon as he saw the boy, the message in his head began. He knew it had to be done.

Jeremy Adams was walking down the sidewalk, having missed his bus for work. He had broke out into a light sweat in the warm weather. As he hurried across the street, passing in front of the neighborhood playground, he spotted his friend, Thomas. Normally he would have just continued on his way in his hurry to clock in at work. But, something about the man made him do a double take. Thomas was fidgeting back and forth, biting his nails, a scared look in his eyes. Sweat was beaded on his forehead, and had stained his underarms.

“Hey, Tom!” Jeremey called out, changing course to see his friend closer.

Thomas looked up, startled out of a trance. For a few seconds he didn’t respond.

“Hey…hey, Jeremy.” He responded with a shake in his voice. His eyes kept darting to the playground. Jeremy looked in that direction, but saw nothing other than a few children playing.

“You ok, man?” He asked.

Thomas didn’t answer. A memory tugged at Jeremy’s mind. When they were juniors in college and roommates, his friend had confided in him that he had recently been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. Thomas was hesitant to let anyone know in fear he would be treated differently. If anything, it had strengthened their friendship. After graduation that had gotten jobs in the same city and stayed in touch a few times a year. Seeing Thomas this way was a shock.

“Hey, Tom. How are you feeling? Have your meds been adjusted?” He asked.

Thomas shot his eyes toward him, not answering.

“Listen, I know you, and you don’t seem well. How can I help?” Jeremy said.

Thomas was quiet for a few moments.

“I…I couldn’t afford my meds this month.” He replied, looking down at his shoes.

“Dude. I get it. How about we get you some help? Get you back on your meds? I’ll help, it’s what friends do.”

Thomas was staring at the boy again. He wanted so desperately to help him. What if this time the voices in his head were real? He looked back at his friend.

What if the voice telling me to save the boy wasn’t real?

“I need help, Jeremy.” He finally said, and started to sob.

Thomas put his arm around his friend’s shoulder

“I know, man. Let’s go catch the bus and get you to the hospital.” He said.

The two men walked off.

Rose sipped her coffee, unaware of the events transpiring a few feet away from her. Calvin was on the swing again, seeing how high he could go. She thought again what a perfect day it was.

When I woke up this morning, I never thought that I would be trying to paddle as fast as my arms would allow me down a river. But, here I was; hauling ass while trying to stay out of the path of the crazy back woodsman firing at me.

The day had started pretty good. I had slept like a baby the night before, nice and cozy in my one-man tent. It was while I was enjoying a cup of coffee that had been brewed over my small fire that I first felt eyes on me. I shrugged it off and tried to attribute it to paranoia.

It was while I broke down my tent that my suspicions were confirmed. I glanced to my right and saw a gnarled old man, eyes a piercing blue set in a bed of wrinkles. His face was covered in a smattering of gray beard, all topped by a decrepit fisherman’s hat. He was staring intently at me, a snarl upturning the corner of his lip. I knew that he wanted me to see him. This was a man that if he didn’t want you to know he was there, you wouldn’t.

“You’re on my property, boy.” He nearly hissed.

“Sir, this is a national park. It doesn’t belong to a person.” I replied.

He drew his face back, worked up a large wad of phlegm, and spit it toward me. It landed in a pile of bacteria and slime at my feet.

I jumped back in disgust.

“What are you thinking? That’s gross!”

“Boy, this here land belonged to my great-grandpappy, and his father before him. I was born on it, and I’m prepared to die on it.” He replied, squaring his shoulders at me.

What the fuck. I thought. This man is literally insane. Crazy. Bonkers.

“Listen, I’m just packing my stuff up, and I’ll be on my way down the river.” I said, wishing my gear was already in my canoe that was about 15 feet away.

“You’ve got about sixty seconds before you meet Ol’ Betsy.” He said, an ominous sneer spreading across his face.

“What? Are you crazy?” I said, before grabbing my backpack and running toward my canoe, my boots slipping on the loose pebbles near the river bank.

“Thirty seconds now.” He said, stepping out of the overgrowth where he had been hiding. The man way huge; literally the biggest old guy I had every laid eyes on. The flannel jacket he wore was tattered and worn at the elbows. Dirty green pants were tucked into knee high rubber boots. And, resting on his shoulder was a shotgun. He lumbered toward me.

I reached my canoe and dove for the paddles while pushing off.

“Fifteen seconds.” He said, lifting the shotgun into position.

I started paddling the fastest I had ever paddled.

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One…” he counted.

There was silence. I was several feet out into the river. Surely I was off of his “land” by now.

I glanced back, figuring I would see the man turning to leave. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I saw the barrel of a shotgun pointing my direction.

“I’m off your land!” I yelled desperately.

“The river’s mine too.” He replied, and sent a slug wizzing past my head.

He had intended to shoot me all along!

So. Here I was; trying to paddle my way out of the path of death.

And, it was in that moment I wished I hadn’t skipped arm day.

Things were not going as planned. Ronaldo gripped the steering wheel and tried not to plow into the back of the slow-moving Nissan in front of his F150 pickup. Beside him, in the passenger seat, his wife of 2 years was screaming. That was a new noise to him. She was normally a very quiet and reserved person. But at this moment she had a hand clutching his forearm, and a sound like nothing he had heard issuing out of her mouth.

“How much farther?” Lily asked, her breathing labored.

“It says the hospital is two miles away.” He replied.

“I don’t know if I can make it that far.” She said, then screamed again as another contraction took over her body

This was their first child. They had spent countless hours pouring over parenting books, looking into reviews of the best hospitals in their area, and had typed up a birthing plan for the day that their daughter came

All of that didn’t matter now as the anxious father barreled down the highway, willing his unborn child to stay that way.

“What do you mean you don’t think you can make it that far?!” He asked. They hadn’t planned this. Babies were born in hospitals with medical professionals, NOT in trucks on the side of the road.

At that exact moment flashing lights appeared in his rear view mirror.

“Oh my god! I’m getting pulled over.” He exclaimed, before swinging the vehicle onto the side of the road

“What are you doing? You can’t stop! I can feel her head!“ Lily screamed

“Her head?” He questioned, suddenly feeling as if he couldn’t breathe.

The officer walked up to his window. Before he could get a word out, Ronaldo was speaking.

“My wife is having a baby!” He yelled. As if on que, Lily screamed in pure agony.

“She’s coming out!” She yelled, instinctively opening her legs.

The officer rushed around to the woman’s side of the car and opened the door. Ronaldo looked over to see blood, fluid, and a dark head coming out of his wife. His world started to swim, then he was plunged into darkness.

The fist sound he heard as he started to come to was a kitten. Wait…no. That wasn’t a kitten. That was a baby crying! He blinked and looked over to see his wife, tears streaming down her face, cradling the most beautiful little being he had ever seen.

“Our baby!” He exclaimed

“She’s hear…” Lily responded.

Ronaldo couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across his face.

Things weren’t going as planned. They were even better.

The split was fresh. Raw. If it was a living thing, the blood would still be warm. Katrina could barely open her eyes due to all of the crying she had done overnight. There wasn’t a single tear left. In a matter of hours, her whole existence had dissolved and she was left grasping at air. Why had Mark done it? Why had he run up their credit card debt to thousands of dollars on some whore? And to make the pain even more guttural, tell her all of this over a voicemail recording. Katrina picked up the nearly-empty wine bottle and put it to her lips again; no longer tasting the bitter, dry drink. She swallowed, turned off the lights, and stepped into the water-filled bathtub.