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Rabbits(141)

Author:Terry Miles

The next thing I knew, we were driving down the street in Chloe’s car—and judging by our location, we’d been driving for about ten minutes or so.

“I have to pee,” Chloe said.

I just stared straight ahead, trying to figure out where we were and how we got there.

“Are you okay?” Chloe was staring at me.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Oh, you’re perfectly fucking fine, are you?”

“Please, just tell me where we’re going?”

“We’re going where you told me to go.” Chloe looked down at my phone, which was sitting on my lap, the map I’d downloaded earlier displayed on the screen.

We were driving toward the point at the bottom-right-hand corner of the pyramid, someplace called Bellevue Downtown Park.

“Stay with me, K,” Chloe said.

I could tell she was worried.

I was worried too.

I’d just lost ten minutes of my life.

* * *

Bellevue is just across Lake Washington from Seattle. The twenty-one-acre park features a huge circular lawn with a wide waterfall that empties into a beautiful reflecting pond. Near the center of the circular lawn there’s a cluster of three large trees. If there was an obvious starting point for exploration, that cluster of trees was definitely it.

“What do you think we should be looking for?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t know. Something related to the game,” I said. “The Moonrise? Maybe a white rabbit?”

“Oh, thanks. That’s super helpful.”

As we started walking toward the cluster of trees, I felt something change.

An irresistible sinking sensation rolled over me like a thick slow wave. I looked around for the cold and crawling things I knew had to be out there waiting, but all I saw was a great creeping darkness move across the park, slow and steady, like the shadow of an enormous haunted airship from another age.

“I think we might need to hurry.” I grabbed Chloe’s hand and we rushed forward into the small grove of trees.

“You sure you’re okay to do this?” Chloe asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, which was a total lie. I felt terrible. I was feeling completely untethered again, like I was floating at least three feet above my body. I wanted to let go, to relax, but I was worried that if I did, I’d end up passing out or missing time, or both.

I bit the inside of my lip. Hard. The pain and tang of blood brought me back to my body.

I needed to keep it together.

* * *

Chloe and I stood in the small clearing with those three large trees. Above us, the leaves and branches came together, forming a high canopy. We took a look around, but aside from a group of enormous ravens perched high in the treetops, there didn’t appear to be anything particularly unique or interesting about the area.

I could feel the darkness. It was close. If I shut my eyes, I could sense something inside me reaching out, trying to connect with whatever was out there waiting.

We needed to hurry.

Once again, I looked around for some kind of sign that we’d come to the right place, but nothing appeared significant. No symbols carved into the trunks of the trees, no rogue skywriting in the firmament above, no strange foliage that didn’t appear to be indigenous to the area.

I heard a rustling sound and took another look up at the trees. There were more ravens than I’d initially thought—a lot more.

The tops of the trees were now almost completely black.

As I stared up at the huge black birds, my mind went back to a summer vacation with my parents. They were having an animated discussion about whether a group of ravens was called an unkindness or a conspiracy. I couldn’t remember which one of them ended up being right.

Then I felt my body growing thick and heavy, and the light of the world dimmed again, or, more accurately, everything became slightly desaturated, the formerly vibrant colors of the park now faded and distant. I grabbed Chloe’s hand and started to run. I couldn’t risk passing out or missing time again. We would just have to move to the next point on the map and trust that we were following the right path.

As soon as we started to run, the ravens took off into the sky—all of them at once. The sound of their wings as they all rose up together was deafening. There were hundreds, maybe as many as a thousand or more of the enormous black birds. They momentarily blacked out the light as they swirled, cawing and flapping, above the small grove of trees.

We ran as fast as we could through the park, away from the ravens, and as we ran, I could hear sharp hissing and spitting snaps as the sprinklers in the grass behind us began popping up and spraying.