The oak tree towers over me, blotting out the sky.

Its leafy branches seem to reach out, swaying in the breeze.

I don't know what will happen when I get close to it, but I can't imagine it'll be good.

I stop about five yards beyond the shadow of the nearest branch,

looking at the strange vines that hang down all around.

I've never seen vines like this on an oak tree before. Hell, I've never seen vines like this on any tree.

They look alive, like snakes.

I turned and gazed back at the trio of female researchers following me.

They urge me on. One of them, the pretty one. I turned and gazed back at the trio of female researchers following me.

They urge me on.

One of them, the pretty one, smiles at me and nods, signaling to me that it'll be okay.

If I wasn't such a sucker for a pretty face, I'd tell them all to go screw themselves.

Actually, it's not like I have much of a choice.

Those of us in orange jumpsuits do what the researchers and security officers tell us.

Still, if that woman asked me to pour boiling oil over my head,

I'd have to think good and hard about it.

And if she smiled while she asked, I'd probably go ahead and do it. So I turned back toward the tree and walk on, looking up at the strange vines. None of the other trees in the

area have vines like this. The surrounding forest seems normal at a glance. It's peaceful, a great place for a picnic. As I step into the

shadow cast by the tree, I see two faded letters carved into the trunk, an A and a D. I take

another step forward. Something moves above me. I look up to see a vine whipping down toward my face.

Flinching back on instinct does no good.

The vine wraps around my neck and tightens.

...