A Summertime Journey

on the brakes. The car screeches to a halt in the middle of the street, and I fly into the back of the front seat and send Charlie’s head into the windshield. Dazed and confused, all of us freeze for a split second and sit there trying to unscramble what has happened. Charlie jerks up and turns with such force, I think, How did he not snap his neck? Jeremy’s seat is empty, the vinyl where he was sitting just seconds ago shiny and red. I see my rock in between his seat and mine and scoop it up and quickly stuff it in my pocket. All three of us exit the vehicle. Joey and I are both worried about Jeremy, and I can’t help thinking the worst.
We start running back to the lifeless mound lying on the ground behind us, with Charlie casually strolling like he’s taking an afternoon walk, pinching the cord on his pants each time his leg rises. Once Joey and I reach Jeremy, we immediately turn him over onto his back with a thud, blood covering our hands, but we don’t notice it. He’s not moving or breathing, his eyes lifeless. Every piece of bare skin is shredded, including his face and head. His nose looks like someone took sandpaper and sanded down the side of it, a gash replacing his nostrils. His shirt and jeans are threadbare and turning crimson. Oddly, I notice both his shoes are missing. With Jeremy lying there in a bloody mangled mess, I take the time to notice he’s missing his shoes. What is wrong with me?
Charlie calmly arrives and stares at Joey without saying a word. Joey, who was on his knees on the other side of Jeremy, stands up and is suddenly calm, just as calm as Charlie. I don’t know what to do; my mind is racing, and I can hardly breathe—out of breath from running and fear, my heart feels like it will explode out of my chest. What are we going to do with Jeremy? I think. “The vultures will take him,” Charlie says. “Everyone back in the car.” He performs a pirouette to the music in his head and walks away. I notice Charlie’s head shows no sign of crashing into the windshield, not a scratch.
Out of nowhere, I see four dark spots coming toward us at meteoric speed. I’m still close enough to Jeremy’s body that I turn my head in time to see the vultures each grab a limb. Vultures are large animals, I know. But these vultures are enormous, the size of ostriches. As they snatch Jeremy, I realize they’re not just gigantic birds. These vultures have no feathers, only sun-cured, black, leathery skin. They look more like giant bats than vultures. The one that grabs Jeremy’s left arm is closest to me, and I catch a glimpse of its head. It has a long neck, and its beak is filled with row after row of sharp, yellow-stained canine teeth, its disfigured beak unable to close completely. A black, cracked membrane has replaced its eyes—no eyeball, no socket. I wonder how they see, I think, and then answer my question: They must echolocate like bats. This shit’s crazy. It can’t be real. This isn’t happening, I think.
“Lance, this is the journey, and I’m here to help and protect you,” Emma, my guardian, says.
“What about Ryan and Jeremy? How come no one protected them?” A rush of adrenaline floods over me, and I quickly look at Charlie, who is almost to the Camaro, to see if he’s in my head or has heard Emma’s voice. I look down, and I’m still holding the rock in my hand as I walk toward the car. He didn’t hear me, but more important, he didn’t hear Emma. Why can’t Charlie hear her? Thoughts are racing through my head again. “He can’t hear me in your head just like I can’t hear him when he’s in other people’s heads. I’ve been with you your whole life, Lance, but in this world, things are different. We can’t make you forget your memories here,” Emma says as she briefly appears in front of me and then disappears, so Charlie doesn’t see her.
Seeing her again releases my suppressed memories of our visit when I was nine years old, and it all comes back to me: my mom and Darren fighting, the cold, dark stone room, and the arched door with the shield and phoenixes coming to life. I feel more confident now that I know I have an ally in this world, someone looking over me.
“Can you bring Ryan and Jeremy back when this is all over?” I ask Emma.
“No, Lance, I’m sorry. I don’t have that kind of power,” she says. I reach the car and slide into the backseat, exhausted and gloomy that I lost another friend, but optimistic that Emma is now here to help Joey and me. The Camaro roars to life and accelerates, and we’re back on the Highway to Hell. I must have fallen asleep, but I don’t know for how long. I’m jolted awake by Joey’s happy exclamation, “We’re here!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
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I PERK UP AND look out the front window. Where the hell is ‘here’? It looks like the same barren and desolate desert we have been traveling for days. Off in the distance I can see the silhouette of what looks like a large factory, except no smoke is coming out the chimney stacks, no lights illuminate the windows; it’s deserted and out of place. But in this world, I suppose anything is possible. The orange hue of the sky suddenly darkens, and the ground starts to buckle and sway, forming large cracks as dirt, rock, and road tear apart all around us. I feel like I’m on a slow-moving roller coaster. I think, Holy shit, we must be in an earthquake. “What’s going on!?” I yell over the sound of the earth, moving like a tidal wave.