The world was ending, yet the Prius sped down the empty highway, the twangs of banjos and guitars erupting from the vehicle. Towering maple trees surrounded the waving stretch of road. Skeletal branches pointed down towards the car, damning the occupants to the same fate. Of course, the apocalypse had just begun. Word hadn’t gotten around that roadtrips were futile, as no one could outrun, well, outdrive their fate. 

“Which one of you bitches took the last Oreo?” Cecilia hissed from the backseat, clutching the plastic container. A few black crumbs fell from the package onto the grey seat as she shook it angrily at the other occupants. The driver, Mary, glanced back at her enraged friend in the rearview mirror. 

“You sure it wasn’t you?” She asked, but immediately regretted it as her seat jolted forward. Cecilia thrust her legs against the seat harder, giving one last kick as she made eye contact with Mary. Mary rolled her eyes, annoyed, but not surprised at her friend’s attitude. Cecilia had a chronic case of being hangry around 3pm. She checked the clock on the dashboard. 2:46. 

‘Close enough,’ She thought. A shuffling next to her caught her eye. She found herself smiling as Gideon sat up, their short, feathery hair sticking up in every direction. 

“Where are we?” Gideon yawned, wiping the sleep from their eyes. 

“We’re close to Montpelier,” Rowan said from the backseat. She handed Cecilia a pack of fruit snacks to calm her hanger. 

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Cecilia interrupted as she tore into the fruit snacks, “Who ate my Oreos?” 

No one spoke for a moment. Although she focused on the road in front of her, Mary caught a glimpse of Gideon rubbing away black cookie crumbs from their lap. 

“Look,” She said, “How about we find a place to stop? We can get some food and freshen up a bit.” 

There was a silent agreement between the four friends as Mary gassed the Prius well above the speed limit. She had noticed the lack of traffic miles back, but said nothing to her friends. Well, lack of traffic is one thing, but she hadn’t seen a single car since they crossed the border into Vermont. Mary thought against mentioning this, especially to Gideon. They would begin to worry too much, advise them to pull over and call someone-anyone– about the sudden disappearance of half the population of Vermont. She loved Gideon, loved the silly, crooked smiles and the vocal impressions they did, but Mary had never met anyone who worried as much as the person next to her. 

“Do the trees always look like that?” Gideon asked, as though Mary had summoned a question from them by merely thinking of their existence. The friends looked from their windows, staring at the corpse-like trees around them. A pit grew in Mary’s stomach. 

She found herself very, very worried.