I marched on in the forest, hopeful that the streak of freak encounters ended. If my life were normal, the likelihood of meeting another Mr. Crow or any other talking monsters was slim. No more spiders, of any size. Let things be normal again, back to the time before prison.

My luck held during my forest trek, and I emerged on the asphalt road to Steel, my old town. Phew. My journey at an end, I took off my cape and enjoyed a cool breeze, taking a moment to stuff the cape in my bag.

As I walked, I noticed a lot of changes, and most were not for the better. The road which led to my old town was filthy and riddled with potholes. Spring thaws don’t create potholes like this. Some were patterned like the mysterious Malvao gopher holes. Do we have mutant gophers that could eat through asphalt now?

A military truck, one I hadn’t noticed due to the curved path, sped off the asphalt road, avoiding the potholes, but that meant it drove close enough near me that I froze in place, quickly turned my head away, and shielded the staff with my body. My insides sank, and I couldn’t even duck for fear of catching their attention. Waiting for them to pass were the longest seconds of my travel.

The road was clear again, except for the potholes and trash. Following a large pothole, about three feet wide and several inches deep, I could see dark skid marks leading to the side of the road. Tire tracks eventually led to a gray truck that had crashed fiercely into a large tree trunk. The driver was sent flying through the windshield and there wasn’t much left of him. His clothes were melted into what scavengers left of the body. I could even see the fractures in his skull. This is why we wear seatbelts, people. I kept my eyes back to the road. Yes, this road was neglected, with no signs of being cleaned for quite some time.

All of this made me walk cautiously. I was in no man’s land and I had to tread carefully.