It's almost five o'clock when we surface, but it's still dark out. Although I carefully scan the coast as we head toward land, the lights I saw last week aren't there now. Maybe they never were, but I still have to look.

We navigate the Skipper up a narrow inlet a couple hundred feet from the ocean, floating between high stalks of marsh reeds native to the area. The sight is almost overwhelming. In the ocean, you always feel like you're in a bubble, even if that's all you've ever known. There is a certain feeling of repression, whether caused from the crush of the underwater pressure or something just in your head from knowing there's an immense sea around you.

Here, it's different. The sky seems to go on forever and I feel lighter than ever before. Like the possibilities are endless. Or that anything can happen. The thought makes me indescribably excited, and I find myself grinning. It's a good thing Ray doesn't see. He'd think I'd already gone mad.

I know that alligators and several species of snake used to be abundant around these parts, but we unfortunately – or perhaps thankfully – don't encounter any of them. Once we stop, I pull two gas masks out of my bag and hand one to Ray. With my portable gas chronometer ready, we slowly open the canopy. The gauges jump around a bit before settling in the normal range. At least the air is breathable.

I give Ray the all-clear and we remove the masks to inhale our first taste of natural air. We retch and cough. It smells like ass. More specifically, it's like a mixture of rotting leftovers and seawater. I had imagined it to be more pleasant, but I guess this is what earth is supposed to smell like.

It takes us a few more awful breaths to become acclimated and for the bitterness to leave the back of our throats. Flashlights in hand, we tether the Skipper to shore. I jump out first, but as my feet touch the ground, my knees buckle and I fall over.

"You all right?" Ray points his light at me.

"Yeah, no problem. Just tripped," I lie. There was nothing in my way. The ground was just too firm, too steady compared to what I'm used to in my constantly floating world on Vanguard.

Since I'm kneeling, I use the opportunity to take a small clump of dirt into my hands. It's dark and sticky, nothing like the seashell-rich sand on the ocean floor. Lifting it to my nose, I take a careful whiff. It's definitely what I smelled before. Maybe I haven't been missing out after all.

"Son of a bitch!" my partner curses, landing in a heap next to me. "You could have given me a heads up, man."

I laugh as I stand up and wipe the soil from my hands. Now that I know to be aware of it, it's easier to counteract the foreign sensation of standing on something that's not moving. I'm not sure what the land equivalent of 'sea legs' is, but not having it sure feels weird. Never in my life have I been in this situation, so no wonder it takes my body a while to adjust. I neglected to warn Ray because I didn't want to let him miss out on the experience. Plus, messing with him is always fun.

"Yeah, ha-ha. Well, since this is your mission, what's the game plan?" he asks while pushing himself up.

I nod toward the distance. "The lights were among those trees over there. Better start with those."

He doesn't object, so we jog about one hundred yards through the hip height grass. I drag my palm over the sharp tips, wishing we could stop to examine every tiny part of this new environment in detail, but our time is limited. Finding the source of those lights is more critical. We can explore at another time.

Standing at the edge of the forest, we see that the entire area is overgrown. Not even the moonlight is able to penetrate the dense foliage. We pass under pines – some must be at least a hundred feet tall – as well as various hardwoods I don't recognize. Stray vines criss-cross between them, having invaded the giants' territory.

We only have our service knives to help clear a narrow path through the brush, making the going slow. I occasionally examine a leaf or branch; the variety is amazing. The vegetation also tends to have a much more pleasant fragrance than the dirt. Some of them are sweet, while others have a bitterer odor. Soon, my nostrils can almost distinguish between different types of plants.

Besides the new smells, I'm also very aware of the noises surrounding us. While I wasn't expecting the tranquility of an underwater environment that I'm used to, I sure as hell didn't think it would be this loud up here. The entire air seems to be vibrating with the whirring, buzzing, chirping, and zooming sounds around us. I'm guessing that most are made by insects, although exactly what type is beyond me. I probably wouldn't want to know, anyway. We also hear an occasional hoot of what I'm guessing is an owl – one of my favorite children's books was about this strange bird – but unfortunately, we don't manage to glimpse any.

We continue on, heading north by orienting ourselves with my compass. My breathing is ragged from our heavy pace, but I don't slow even when I check my watch. An hour has passed, and I'm not sure how much more time we can risk being away from the Skipper. I'm anxious to find something, but I also don't want to be caught in the open when the sun comes up. I'm about to reach for my canteen when a noise in the trees above gets my attention.

I throw my arm up to signal Ray to stop, and the silence behind me tells me that he noticed. I point toward the sky and listen. A few seconds pass when there's another rustling sound, followed by a nut or seed falling to the ground between us.

"It's just a squirrel or possum, man," he notes, just as familiar with the former ecology of our planet as I am. Ever the optimist, Ray also believes in the theories that animals were more likely to have survived the catastrophic climate change and adapted to the new demands of their environment than humans. Judging by the raucous, I'd say he's probably not wrong.

We continue onward and in spite of the darkness, the air is already surprisingly hot and humid. They tell us it's April on Vanguard, but maybe that's another thing that's been switched around, just like time. It's probably the result of the whole world being screwed up, anyway. I'm also sweating like crazy from all of the bush whacking I'm doing, so it could be that, too. I hope that's why it feels like it's slowly getting hotter out here, but when we reach a small clearing, I get a better look at the sky.

It's definitely lighter than it was before. Damn, sunrise can't be that far off. What I wouldn't give to see it, but that would be the end of me and at this point, I don't consider that to be a good trade-off.

Ray must have noticed too because he shares my sentiments. "I don't think we can go further, Will. Better turn around. Who knows how fast the sun will come up now?"

"Can we just have a minute?" Not waiting for his answer, I sit on a fallen log. He joins me, facing the opposite direction so we have a full three-sixty view of our surroundings.

"You're happy we didn't find anything, aren't you?" I ask, finally getting a chance to take a swig from my canteen.

"Hell, yeah. You know that whatever that's still alive up here has to be all mutated and shit. I mean look around. What did you expect? An undiscovered paradise?"

I honestly don't know what I expected, so I remain silent. And that's when I see them: two small, bright lights a couple of feet from the ground peeking through the underbrush in front of me. Although they can't be the ones we're looking for, I know that I can't ignore them.

"Psst, Commander. Over there," I whisper, trying to stay as still as possible.

My use of his rank alerts him to the gravity of the situation and he slowly turns around. "What do you got?"

"Five meters, twelve o'clock. See it?"

He's quiet for a few seconds, straining his eyes against the approaching twilight. He suddenly draws his breath in and I know he's found them.

"Will, those are eyes." His tone is a mix of excitement and fear. Given our present situation, it's not a good combination.

I have to work at keeping my breathing even. "I'm aware of that, Commander."

"You're still in charge," he says. "What do you suggest we do?"

Well, I hadn't gotten that far yet. The decision, however, is made for me when the creature behind the eyes slowly emerges from the shadows.

The calculated movement in each of its steps slowly brings the animal closer to us. Its rust colored fur is full of burrs; its snout is caked with mud. It's definitely some sort of feline, but it's different from anything I've seen in books. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a cougar, but the look's all wrong. It's more like a two-foot tall housecat, which shouldn't surprise me this much in an environment subjected to gene-altering radiation over goodness knows how many years.

Moving at a steady pace, not once does it take its glimmering yellow eyes off us. Strangely, I don't feel threatened by it and to prove this – and to show it that I don't mean harm – I extend my hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ray whisper-yells at me through gritted teeth.

"Relax. It'll be fine." I'm glad my voice sounds confident because the animal's reaction is now making me less sure by the second. It has snapped its ears back and opened its mouth slightly. These moves are indicative of either fear or curiosity, both of which are highly unpredictable emotions.

The low grumbling coming from the cat doesn't help to appease my fears, but just then, it sticks its wet nose against my hand. I exhale a sigh of relief. It's just smelling me.

Emboldened, I gently move my hand over its snout and touch the top of its head. The fur is coarse and full of sand.

Not getting any objections, I begin to scratch the cat between the ears. Its grumbling – I think it's called purring, actually – becomes louder. It sits down, all the while pressing its head against my hand and urging me to continue.

"He likes it," I gloat to Ray.

"Well, I don't," he says. "Look at the size of that thing. It could kill us both before we got out of this clearing."

"Aww, come on, man." I begin to relax and enjoy this unbelievable, new experience. "It's just a big kitten."

"Will," he says my name and although I don't look up, I can tell he's obviously not convinced. Well, too bad. He'll have to get over it. Funny thing, I never thought of Ray as the jealous type.

"Will!" This time he yells, and the sudden change in tone immediately gets my attention. And if I had any doubts about the urgency, Ray's unexpected sprint toward the tree line is clear indication that something's wrong. Having taken my military training seriously, I run after him without waiting for an explanation. Straining my neck, I look to the rear and see the cause for his panic.

Running behind us – and narrowing the gap at an alarming pace – are half a dozen more of the same cat-like animals, but these don't look like they want a scratch between the ears. No, these look like they want to have us for dinner.

"Run!" I instinctively scream after Ray, although I'm pretty sure he couldn't go any faster.

We navigate the thicket at a breakneck speed, jumping over logs and ducking under limbs. Branches brush against our bodies and occasionally snap their leaves in our faces. The creatures – with their horizontal shapes and agile legs – are gaining on us with every second. Since I'm not making much use of it, I chuck my flashlight back at one, but I don't have time to see if it connects.

Ray's still about twenty feet ahead of me when he suddenly darts between two bushes on his right. I try to follow, but cutting across would take too long. It would also put me right in the path of the cat behind me.

I have no choice but to continue going straight ahead, and that's when I realize what the beasts have just managed to do. They've split us up. Damn.

"Ray! Ray!" I yell to my friend, but there's no answer. Instead, all I can hear is my own panting and the breaking of twigs beneath my feet.

I hope he's okay, but I don't have too much time to worry about Ray since I'm still in trouble, too. Although I can't see them, I'm pretty sure there are some cats still on my tail. I can, however, see the edge of the forest and I pray that I can make it back to the Skipper in one piece.

I finally break out from amongst the trees back into the grassy fields. I can't risk slowing down and at this momentum, I'm unable to orient myself back toward the craft. I'm fucking lost. The only discernible landmark is the square building we saw from earlier, and I know it's my only chance. But before I have the chance to go toward it, something big and heavy smacks into my shoulder and pushes me to the ground.

My instincts tell me to get up, but even though I struggle against the creature with all of my strength, I can only manage to roll onto my back. I reach for my knife, but the feline pins me to the ground, his face just inches above mine.

He opens his mouth, revealing massive canine teeth just waiting to tear into my flesh. My focus is drawn to his horrible breath reeking of death and decay. I know that's not the last thing I want to experience during my much too short life, but as I continue to resist, his claws begin to dig into my shoulders.

I scream out in pain and almost miss the sound of a muffled bang in the distance. I would have actually questioned whether it was real or just my imagination if the cat hadn't almost simultaneously dropped dead.

I'm pretty sure I owe someone for that big time, but right now, I can't waste the advantage I've gotten by getting all sentimental. Rays of light are peeking over the ocean, which means sunrise is just minutes away.

I roll the cat off me and push myself up, using my last remaining strength to run toward my previous destination. I keep my eyes on the remnants of a huge, tattered American flag draped from the top of the building. If that isn't a sign that I'm going the right way, nothing is. The grass under my feet eventually turns into asphalt as I run across a deserted parking lot toward what looks to be the main entrance.

Sweat is pouring down my face as I reach a set of glass doors.

"Open up!" I bang on them with both fists. The doors remain closed, but I can also hear Ray yelling in the distance. Although I can't make out the words, at least he's getting louder which means he'll be here any second. I pound on the doors again, but the inside's still dark. "Hey! Let us in! We don't have much time. Open up!"

Still nothing.

I need to find another escape route, maybe toward the roof. I turn around to scope it out just as Ray runs right into me. He knocks me backward, but instead of hitting the glass door, we both tumble inside the building.

I'm big, but Ray is bigger and his weight on top of me squeezes the breath out of my lungs, making me struggle for air. I push him to the side and he grunts while rolling onto his back. My body also aches, yet as I open my eyes, I'm convinced I've died and gone to heaven because the most beautiful girl I've ever seen is looking down at me from above. 

"What took you so long?" she asks.