“So, remind me why we’re calling the automatic rifle-wielding mercenaries hunting you down the ‘Dudes in Black’?” Don asked as his eyebrows raised in disapproval.

“Well, I don’t really know what the hell they’re really called, now do I?” I retorted as I picked through the mushrooms Don claimed wouldn’t kill me. So we sat under the wayward pine as the embers glowed faintly, and Ella continued perimeter patrol.

“All I know is they work for Doctor Fucking Ross in a camouflaged facility in the middle of the mountains, and they fucking shot you in the head just for seeing it. And their Kevlar is black. Hence, ‘Dudes in Black.’ Let’s say DIB for short, shall we?”

Don sucked his teeth but nodded in submission, seeing no reason to argue.

Deep down, I knew I instinctively wanted to call them something that would make them seem less terrifying than they were to me right now. The more I thought about them, though, the less effective it seemed.

“Okay, fair. So, we both know you can’t run from DIB forever. Not with bare feet, a nightgown, and no survival gear, even with my help. The time it takes to forage just enough to keep you moving at a jog is no match for their steady pace and methodical sweep of the surrounding forest.”

My heart began to pound faster, knowing he was right. Don started to draw in the dirt near the coals of the fire.

I remembered his initial failed attempts to show me how I was ‘lighting the fire wrong,’ and his hands passed through the sticks in frustration.

Then his ‘look of surprise’ when he was able to pat me on the back. That was less than a few hours ago.

 “How is it you’re able to touch stuff now, anyway?” I asked, interrupting his speech.

He looked up from his drawing in the dirt with a stick, smiled, and shrugged.

“Dunno’, but it must be being close to you, so cheers for that!”

Unsure why, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at this and smiled. Similar to Ella first appearing to me and growing in her power, this all made me feel…special.

“And it’ll only be a matter of time before they find you, even if you were to hide underground in a damn Gili suit,” he continued.

“Plus, living alone in the forest forever. What kind of life would that be?” I responded without thinking.

I immediately regretted my words once I saw the pain fill Don’s eyes. Pain and regret.

He shuffled uncomfortably and cleared it away with a cough.

“It’s not all that bad, you know,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—it’s not the same as what you did when you were alive, I mean.” I looked down, feeling my cheeks blush hot, and reminded myself to give myself a kick later.

“Right. So anyway,” Don motioned with the stick he used for a drawing tool, and we both looked down at his compass rose etched into the dirt.

“Wait, how do you know that’s North?” I interrupted again.

“I got my bearings before we crawled in under this tree. Well, you crawled. I passed through it, I guess. North Star is over there,” he pointed upward through the dense pine branches from where we sat.

“I marked the ‘door’—where you crawled in with that stick in the ground as Southeast for reference. Any more doubting questions?”

I looked up at this, expecting his face to show anger, though only detected a slight amusement in his eyes. Not unlike a parent explaining to a child how they know what the stars far above us are. How they’re not, just fireflies caught in a lofty breeze.

“My bad. Just trying to learn. Go on,” I said and looked down at the map, quickly growing in detail as Don drew.

“Alright. So I know that before I got fuckin’ shot in the face, I was within a three-day trek from my base camp in the High Peaks Wilderness Area a few clicks south of Saranac.”

I desperately wanted to ask what a click was, but when he looked up, I nodded, not wanting to interrupt again.

“That’s the Adirondack Mountain regions of Upstate New York, just so ya’ know,” he said, seemingly noticing my confusion.

 My heart pounded again as I did the math in my head. Less than a month ago (the days grew fuzzy in the ‘hospital,’ drugged up by Dr. Ross), I had tried to kill myself in my bathtub in Hoboken. Within hours after that (assuming, since when I came to, I was in the same facility), I woke up about five hours away, alive.

I remembered the cuts I had made and was sure they wouldn’t fail either.

“How…how did they get to me so fast? Doctor Ross and his crew that looked like EMS?”

Don’s lips tightened under his bearded face and his brow wrinkled in worry.

“I don’t know, Violet. I’m sorry. But with enough resources, I’m sure Ross and DIB can pull off more than we know.”

“Okay, sure, but…how did they get to me within minutes before I bled out?” I felt my skin flush and my heart race with panic. My head spun.

“I’m not sure. But Ella and I can try to help you figure that bit out, okay?”