FIRST CONTACT, ACT VIII
Angela checked her email one last time, then her reception died. The forest closed in around her, the roads changing from paved to dirt. The sun filtered through the trees on its steady descent into night.
“You sure we’re going the right way?” she asked.
“Don’t worry,” Genesis said. “I could do this with my eyes closed.”
“Please don’t,” Angela said.
“Anything for you, babe,” she said.
She took a right turn down a narrow trail, plunging deeper into the woods. Finally, the trees parted and a small log cabin appeared before them, sitting in front of a broad, moonlit lake.
“This must be it,” Genesis said, rolling to a stop on the gravel driveway.
Angela held up a photo her mother had printed off and said, “Looks like it.”
“So what do you want to do first?” Genesis asked. “Make out in bed, make out by the fireplace, or make out in the lake?”
“Let’s start by unloading the car,” Angela said, “and we’ll see where things go from there.”
“You’re on,” Genesis said, and popped the trunk.
They climbed out of the car and grabbed their bags. Angela grew a few feet taller so she could carry an extra load, while Genesis unlocked the front door.