Natalie dropped the magazine from her gun, fed a bullet into the top and popped it back in with three smooth motions.

  Adam looked back at her through the mirror. “So, I have to ask. Where’d the collapsible baton come from?”

  Natalie paused for a moment. “I’ve had it a while.” She holstered the gun and reached for the baton. With a flick of her wrist, she extended it neatly. “I know just enough to hurt the other guy more than myself.” She collapsed the baton back into itself. “A cop friend taught me after a particularly rough call.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Adam surveyed the road as they drove the familiar route to The Pagegrinder.

  “Are you feeling a little weird?” Samantha asked, scrubbing the blood off the back of her hand with a napkin.

  Adam considered her question, the slight edge of nausea still tugging at him, but he shrugged it off. “Maybe just a little.”

  “I thought so. I think it’s a little like sprinting, or lifting something extremely heavy.” She pulled her hair back and fastened it into a ponytail. “We can wear ourselves out pushing too hard too fast. I felt out of breath after the second bolt, but after the third… I thought I was going to pass out.”

  “All things I have to look forward to, if I can ever figure out how to use my… thing.” Natalie tapped the back of Adam’s seat, then reached forward and pointed. “Heads up on the left.”

  Adam followed her finger down the street until he saw what had drawn her attention. He let the car roll to a stop. The road and surrounding neighborhood were completely overgrown. It looked like years of unchecked growth had taken over, plants jutting up from cracks in the pavement and small trees crowding between the dilapidated houses. Several of the homes were wrapped in thick vines and the greenery coiled through their broken windows.

  “And suddenly we’re in the Post-Apocalyptic Fiction Section,” Natalie said with a laugh from the back seat.

  Adam remembered seeing something online about a fictional meteor strike, and how humans would be making memes about the asteroid right until it obliterated the planet. He fought to keep the edges of his mouth from turning into a smile. Potential horrific death now, memes later, he thought.

  As they watched, two birds dove out of the sky and flew in front of one of the houses. Every time they got too close to a window, the vines would rustle violently. On one of the diving passes, the birds strayed too close and a thin tendril of green shot out of the window, snatching the second bird out of the air. With a loud squawk, it was yanked inside and out of sight.

  “And just like that, we’re back to the horror section,” Natalie sighed, sounding more irritated than afraid.

  “I’m still going, but if either of you want to back out, I’ll drive you back.” Adam flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror and Samantha rummaged through her backpack.

  Without a word, Samantha opened her door and climbed out, crossing the road quickly.

  “Sam where are you going?” Natalie's voice cracked slightly with panic as Samantha approached the overgrown curb.

  She knelt down with a can of spray paint in her hand. Shaking it several times she sprayed a long line from the curb across the road before jogging back to the car.

  “Come to think of it, it is the apocalypse. We should bucket list a little,” Adam said, half serious. “I’ve always wanted to tag something.”

  “I was marking the boundary. If we come back this way, we’ll know if this is the edge of the growth or if it's expanding.” She dropped the can back into her backpack, ignoring his comment. “If it’s expanding, it will eventually overtake your condo.”

  Adam didn't like the sound of that. His fingers turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Do you think those rituals or circles of protection would help keep that from happening?”

  “Maybe?” she said quietly, uncertainty heavy in her voice.

  Natalie pulled a hand from her pocket and reached forward, revealing a lighter in her palm. "Spray paint is flammable, right? Plants don't like fire."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Adam and Samantha turned to look at her, then exchanged a silent glance.

  “What?” Natalie said innocently, as if she hadn’t just implied they turn the can of spray paint into a homemade flamethrower.

  They continued on, driving through what had become an urban wilderness. The trees lining the road grew denser, and the houses behind them looked more vine-choked and decrepit with every block.

  The car bumped over knotted roots and creeping plants that had begun to reclaim the pavement. Adam couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably.

  “I’m getting worried about the tires,” he said, chewing his cheek. “I was supposed to replace them a few months ago, but I never got around to it.”

  “We’ll be alright. It’s just a few more blocks,” Samantha said quietly.

  The houses soon became unrecognizable, swallowed by vegetation until they looked like overgrown mounds of greenery. The sounds of birdsong and distant animals faded, replaced by a growing silence. Only the engine and the crunch of the tires over foliage remained, obscenely loud in the stillness of the reclaimed space.

  The density increased until the trees formed a canopy overhead, darkening the path until Adam had to turn on the headlights. The road had vanished beneath them, replaced by a narrow trail winding through dense forest.

  Adam wanted to turn around, to go back to the condo and never leave again. The sense of foreboding rising from this primeval wood sent shivers into the oldest parts of his brain. His heart began to race, and panic crept in as he kept catching shadows twisting and churning at the edges of his vision. His foot slipped off the gas, causing the car to jerk like a wounded animal. He forced himself to calm down with several deep breaths and pressed back on the pedal, pushing them forward.

  The smell of churned earth and old decay thickened in the car, heavy and cloying. He felt the air grow humid but colder as they continued along the path. Time stretched and his palms began to sweat despite the chill. None of them dared to speak in the oppressive silence.

  Branches scraped softly along the sides of the car. Adam couldn't stop himself from imagining they were fingers, searching for a way in, ready to pluck them out one by one like low-hanging fruit.

  He glanced down at the odometer and it showed they had traveled several miles. That couldn't be right. The clock read over an hour since they’d left, and even at their slow pace they should have been well outside the city by now.

  The ceiling seemed to press lower, the greenery giving way to thick, gnarled branches that scraped and tapped against the roof like skeletal fingers. From the back seat, Natalie let out a low moan. Samantha's breathing was fast and shallow, mirroring the panic building inside of him. Claustrophobia clawed at his chest, and he began to shake in his seat, shivering uncontrollably. The headlights barely reached more than a few feet ahead, and they crawled forward at a snail's pace.

  Adam wanted to run and the urge hit him like a hammer.

  Get out of the car, turn around, and sprint back the way you came.

  But there was no room to turn.

  No way to go back.

  No way out.

  He flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror and saw the forest closing in behind them, the path vanishing as if it had never been there at all.

  Without thinking, he shut his eyes. If he couldn't escape, he could at least block out one of his senses. He curled inward, folding into himself, while trying to quiet the thundering in his chest. The feeling of being swallowed, of being consumed by something ancient and vast, clung to him like a second skin.

  The car rocked forward, scraping through the brush in a steady one-two rhythm that felt like being pushed down a colossal throat. The moment stretched on and on until time blurred, the sound of the branches once more fading into silence.

  Adam opened his eyes.

  The forest had fallen away into a massive clearing, tiny shafts of sunlight piercing the dense canopy in scattered golden threads. Towering ferns and vine-choked machinery filled the glade, the rusted metal hulks swallowed by the wild growth. Each leaf was the size of a person, thick and luminous with green.

  "This... this can't be real," Samantha whispered, awe softening her voice as she stared across the overgrown expanse.

  Adam felt like he stood before the eye of some ancient predator, too full to care about him now, but fully capable of devouring him the moment its hunger returned.

  Across the clearing, barely visible between two massive trunks, was a narrow gap in the trees. He guided the car forward, foliage crunching under the tires like cracking bone.

  With every foot, the sense of trespass deepened. Something stirred beneath the glade's stillness, the sense of dread giving way to a rising tide of irritation. He could feel it waking up inch by inch. A vast, slumbering awareness roused by their very presence.

  And it was angry.

  He glanced around nervously as the leaves peeled back from the gigantic machines like eyelids. Massive green and brown vines poured out of them, slithering across the ground, shoving aside stumps and branches as they sought the intruders.

  The irritation he'd felt swelled into rage, a crushing pressure of impending violence bearing down on him.

  You shouldn't be here.

  You don't belong.

  The thoughts repeated over and over, grinding his sense of self into dust.

  Just as the pressure became unbearable, the car burst through the narrow gap into blinding sunlight. The sensation shifted, no longer full of fury, but replaced by a withdrawn reluctance and the vines thinned immediately, retreating toward the roadside.

  Less than half a mile later, they reached the edge of the overgrowth. Adam pulled onto the pavement and looked back. A mountain of greenery loomed behind them, teeming with flowering plants and circling birds.

  "Did that just happen? Was that real?" Natalie's trembling voice was barely a whisper.

  "I don't know,” Adam said, letting out a shaky breath that faintly smoked in the cold air. He rolled the windows down, and a warm breeze flushed out the forest's crushing scent.

  "We are definitely not taking that way back."