If you're reading this, you presumably know what happened at 2:23 PST, Tuesday, January 3rd, so I won't waste too much time with that, nor with other things you surely already understand. However, I do have to start a bit earlier, and in another timezone. At 4:15 AM EST (that's 1:15 AM PST, if you're wondering), I was up in my room, getting dressed.

  I have to start this story so early because, as those of us who live truly in the middle of nowhere know, it takes a long time to get anywhere. I was up so early because I needed to sneak out for a date. I hoped. I was terrified that Lacie wouldn't actually show up.

  We'd been friends when we were younger, then not for a bit, then again in the back half of highschool—we were both seniors, now—and a few weeks back I kissed her and she didn't say anything and I ran away. Not the best start, but right before Christmas break she said we should get together after the holidays. She didn't say date, but she did say, "Maybe you could sneak out early, pretend you're starting your morning runs early, and nobody will notice us."

  In Bishopton, two girls who want to date do not want to be noticed. In my house in Bishopton, this was even more the case. I'd assumed, considering the sentiments of everyone nearby, that I'd start dating after I went to college and joined the real world, but now I had a shot at something, and I was terrified I'd blow it.

  Thus, I was staring at myself in the mirror, worried I'd wouldn't look good. I removed the hair-tie, letting my almost-black hair down. That looked more date-ready. I really hoped this was actually a date.

  Of course, I couldn't just go out like this was a date. I had to fool my parents, because Mom would murder me if she found out I was gay. I think. I was too scared to tell her, in case she murdered me. I put my hair back into a pony-tail.

  Because it was five below outside—Michigan gets cold—I had on my winter tights and top, both fleece-lined and double-layered. So, black, skintight clothes, but also regular training clothes. I pulled out my drawer, twisted it enough to bend the whole thing, then jerked it past the stop that was supposed to retain it. In the gap between the back of the drawer and the back of the dresser, behind a thin masonite panel I could remove, were the things Mom didn't know about.

  I couldn't fit a lot in there. A tiny bit of dark makeup. Colorful fishnet tops in pink and green. Jean short-shorts. A pair of booty-shorts that would give me a panic attack if I actually wore them. A bra and panties that I should have put on before the running clothes. A black minidress with a window that wouldn't show much off on me.

  Removing everything, I put on the lacy black underwear, put the tights and top on, and had immediate regrets. Those were the only racy underwear I'd ever managed to buy. Almost two years later, they didn't fit. Everything came back off, the sports-bra and grey underwear went back on, then the leggings and top, and I was going to be late so I grabbed the pink mesh top and the jean shorts, which would look alright with the black eyeshadow and lipstick.

  Lacie was very goth, far more than me, and her parents let her be that way in public. That was most of why I'd noticed her again, and remembered that we'd stopped talking in sixth grade on account of pure nonsense. I'd have to wipe the makeup away before I got home, but it would definitely be the easiest part of the outfit to hide. I slipped a makeup-removal wipe into my running pack—if I was going to pretend I was doing distance training, I had to come home with the right bag—and was ready to go.

  The remaining clothes and makeup went away, and I went to my bedroom door. Cranking my cochlear implant up let me catch every sound, so I was confident nobody had been woken up by my preparations.

  I was about to go on a date with Lacie! I had a quick little moment of panic that didn't prevent me heading down the stairs, careful to step on the outsides of each tread so the wood didn't squeak. I wrote a note, grabbed a hat and gloves that didn't match my outfit, and headed out. Nobody in Michigan expects those to look good, even for a date, in this sort of weather.

  One step out the door and I decided it was colder than expected and snatched my letter-jacket. I know, goth girls aren't supposed to letter in sports, but in public I had to be the all-american whatever or Mom would lose her shit. Not much longer. Five months to summer, eight to college, and I'd be able to stop wearing that darn jacket in public. I'd still do the sports part, even aside from scholarship concerns. I just didn't like making such a show of it as Mom wanted.

  So, having left a note on the counter that I'd be running the park loop, I got on my bike and started into town. I left at 4:30 (that's The Big Event minus 53 minutes), going past farms for almost an hour because biking in two inches of snow isn't very quick, rolled past Bishopton's only stores, and came to "the park", which was actually just a gazebo next to an abandoned lot where I'd helped the town remove a burned down house back in fifth grade. The loop around the park was exactly a kilometer, so we always used it for long-distance practice.

  There was Lacie, pacing back and forth, rubbing her hands together, covered head-to-toe in a long winter coat. As I walked up, she took off the coat, tossing it onto the picnic table as she stepped out from under the gazebo. I know, from later, that she had gone all-out on the make-up. Black eye-shadow and lipstick, but also this cool dot pattern below her eyes and above her eyebrows that I entirely lacked the skill for, and she'd somehow gotten her nose pierced, with a gold stud on each side, without anyone realizing.

  However, she'd also brought the girls out. A plunging V-neck with a corset that would give my mother an anuerysm left her breasts on fantastic display, and I literally couldn't look away. I've known Lacie since we were three, but I had only seen her out in public or at one of our houses since highschool, places where she dressed mostly Bishopton-appropriate. I knew she'd developed more than I had, but I hadn't really seen.

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  There was so much to see.

  While I was staring, trying to turn my brain back on, she said, "You, uh, look really good."

  "I, um, yeah, you—" I managed to look up at her eyes, finally saw her fantastic makeup, and a crunching sound filled the air. Where there had been a gazebo, an inch from Lacie's side, there was a flat expanse of churned dirt.

  She screamed. I looked back and saw Bishopton, or what had been Bishopton. It was gone.

  "Maddy, what's happening?" she said.

  I swallowed, stumbled a step back and grabbed at her hand, as if she might suddenly crunch into the ground as well. She squeezed close, and her breasts pushing against my arm somehow cut through the shock of the moment, because I am a simple person, truth be told. Only for an instant, though, because Bishopton was gone.

  A voice boomed, and for the first time I saw that impossible text appear across my vision, as if my eyes were just another screen. "Surviving humams take note."

  We all know that speech by now. "Per syndicate rules—blah blah—mining rights—yadda yadda—Borant Corporation—legalese nonsense—The first-level entrances will be open for exactly one human hour and one hour only. Once the entrances are closed, you may no longer enter." And a bunch more nonsense.

  "This has to be a nightmare," I said. "I'm still asleep, and I'm having a nightmare that my first date is being destroyed by aliens."

  Beside me, I heard Lacie's teeth start chattering, felt her hand shiver in mine.

  It took a second for me to put it together. "Oh shoot, your coat."

  She'd dressed all sexy for me, and had taken off her coat to show it off, and then it had vanished into the ground by impossible magic. I pulled off my letter-jacket and wrapped it around her, and she pulled in close and again, because I'm a very simple creature, I was distracted by her breasts pressing against mine like I'd fantasized every single night over Christmas vacation, when I was feeling bold enough to even imagine such a thing.

  With that layer gone, no longer riding the bike to keep my blood going, I was already feeling the cold. At least neither of us had tossed our hats or gloves into the gazebo, or we'd loose our ears to frostbite. While she was snapping up the jacket, hiding that excellent view, a trumpet blared like the aliens were announcing a king, and a grand spotlight appeared, over in Rupert's Hill.

  "Should we—" Lacie was trying to speak, but her teeth kept chattering.

  "Should we go in?" I said, shifting so that the wind was hitting my back, not her face.

  She nodded, visibly shivering.

  I swallowed, looking across the empty expanse that had once been a tiny, Michigan town. "Whether we go in or we don't go in, we have to go somewhere. Look, even the cars are gone. Everyone—" I swallowed, for a moment feeling like I might vomit "—everyone will have been inside. There's nobody left. My parents are dead."

  "Mine too," she said. "And we're gonna die out here."

  Bishopton is farming country, the trees all cleared away for fields, except for a few small clusters. They would make meager shelter, far too little for this sort of cold.

  A small, terrfied sound, like a mewling kitten came from Lacie. It was the worst sound I'd ever heard, because in that moment I knew she thought she was going to die. Her voice was a shaky mumble. "There's nothing here, and we'll never make it to that entrance."

  Crap. An hour. We only had an hour. "Alright, get on the back of my bike. I can do Rupert's Hill an hour."

  "In this w—" Chattering teeth turned her words into a hissed breath.

  "Lacie, I promise you, if you want to get into that whatever they said it was, I will get you there before it closes. If you think of another plan along the way, just tell me and we'll stop."

  She paused a moment, looked at me, and darted in to plant a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you."

  I stared.

  "Uh, the bike?" she said.

  I blinked, recovering. Turns out she didn't need the girls on display to turn off my brain. I ran down the hill, picked my bike up out of the snow, and kicked down the bike-pegs on the rear wheel. She grabbed my shoulders, climbed on behind me, and we were off.

  At first, I was standing up, churning the pedals as hard as I could, fighting past the snow. That was just the mile out to the main road, though. That road had already been cleared, so there was about a quarter-inch of fluffy powder across it, except where a square of churned dirt and gravel marked a car that probably had a human in it moments earlier. I had to stay mostly upright, fighting as hard as I could, to keep our speed up.

  Rupert's Hill is twelve miles, and I was riding a mountain bike in winter. I forced any thought of pain away. I could ignore the burn to win a game for the team, I could do at least as much for Lacie. As we kept going, she huddled closer. It was a bit awkward with me biking as hard as I could, but I could feel her against my back, which at least helped my motivation.

  Aside from occasionally just feeling her against my back, I fell into the flow state I'd usually get into during a run. My mind was empty of everything except the next ten steps. That was the mantra I used in running, thinking about keeping going instead of worrying about winning or losing.

  Absolute focus, that's what Coach said I had. An ability to dedicate myself entirely to the sport that most everyone else lacked. He said that was why I excelled where others struggled. I said I excelled because Rupert's Hill Rural Agricultural School had only 1,000 students in a k-through-12, only 200 of them in high-school. I was the best girl on every team because we barely had enough girls to fill the team.

  I didn't think of any of that right then. Like I said, absolute focus. I breathed steadily, ignored the icy chill tormenting my nose, and kept my legs moving. I completely lost track of time, right up until Lacie said, "That was the Rosens, and we're thirty-minutes in."

  The Rosens were only halfway to Rupert's Hill. I straightened again, biking harder. We were going to make it. Lacie had worn the sexiest dress that had ever been made for our date, and she wanted to go into this Whatever that Whoever had made, so we were going to make it.

  The world aside from the road ahead disappeared. My legs burned and I told them not to. I could feel Lacie against my back, still shivering as the cold ate at her, and I kept going.

  Rupert's Road. I jerked the bike, planting a foot and sliding like the bike in that movie Lacie loved. We almost skidded past on the icy streets, but I got churning again, zeroing in. "Are we definitely going in?" I yelled.

  She leaned forward, pressed against my back, teeth chattering near my ear. "Please. It's too damn cold out— Ahhh!"

  As soon as I had confirmation, I sped towards the opening, not realizing it was stairs. We were airborne, but the metal stairs turned into a ramp. We hit again somewhat down, and I struggled to keep us upright, fighting the bike and Lacie's weight at once. If it was just me, I'd stop, but if I tried with Lacie on the back she'd probably go flying. I did my best to keep control, but we just kept speeding up.

  The stairs ended about thirty feet shy of a massive door. I squeezed the brake hard and twisted the bike, slamming us shoulders-first against the wooden door. The doors started to swing open, having apparently been unlocked and so perfectly balanced that just hitting them knocked them wide.