We all run outside as the scream ebbs away and is replaced by a series of sobs. They come from Elaine, who is standing with Kevin at the forest's edge, where the trail enters the clearing.

"What's the matter?" Steve calls and runs towards them.

Kevin points at the ground.

I wonder if they have found another skull as I join them.

Kevin's hand is extended towards a black object lying in the grass. It's a boot. And... a leg. Part of a leg. And blood, loads of it.

"It's..." Elaine is still sobbing. "It's..." She takes a breath, shuddering.

I know the boot. I saw it only minutes ago. "It's Sumo's."

Expecting more carnage, I scan the grass and the bushes. There's nothing, though. Just the boot lying on its side. A hand's length of leg projecting from it. A section of trouser still surrounding the leg but leaving some pale skin exposed. The fabric and tissue end in a neat cut. Blood.

A fat fly lands where the skin meets the fabric of the pants.

Elaine doubles over, gagging.

Rose reaches us, placing a hand on Elaine's back. "What's...?" She sees the mess. "Shit!"

Steve steps around our find and searches below the trees and bushes. "There's nothing else here."

I don't have to ask what he is looking for.

A tree trunk stands right beside us. It leans towards the clearing and ends abruptly as if sawed off. I touch the cut surface. It's smooth and moist. "It's cut off."

"Huh?" Rose frowns at me.

"Look at this. The tree's cut off. Right here." I tap the cut trunk. "The rest of it is missing. And all the other trees, too, their branches that reached out into the... clearing." I point up. "It's... as if the forest has been cut here. All the way through. And..." I look down at the boot. "...the leg, too."

"Damn it!" Jenny's voice startles me. I haven't seen her approach. "Didn't I tell you. We should never have come—"

"Stop it," Steve barks, cutting her short.

We have retreated to the center of the clearing, standing close to each other.

"What do we do now?" Rose asks, holding Elaine, who has calmed down somewhat.

Steve points in the direction where we have found the boot. "Do you see the ridge over there?" "That's where we came from, before descending that steep shortcut."

Jenny snorts at the word shortcut.

Steve turns and points in the opposite direction. "So that's where the pavilion should be. The others might be there."

"You're sure?" Rose's voice is thin.

Steve shrugs. "If we stay here, we'll never know. So, do we go?" He points once more towards the suspected location of that pavilion.

"What about the... boot?" Jenny's voice is unsteady.

"What about it?" Steve asks. "Do you want to take it with you?"

Jenny presses her lips together.

Steve lifts both his hands, palms outwards. "We'll tell the police."

The police... I guess we all wonder if we find them, but I don't say it. "Yes, let's go." I'm eager to leave this place, eager to be anywhere but here.

The heat of the sun is cooking me in my bad-weather gear. I take off my still wet raincoat. Then I march over to my backpack to tie it, using the same straps that hold the sleeping bag. When I shoulder the thing, I am immediately rewarded by the unpleasant feeling of my clammy T-shirt pressed against my back.

The others stare at me, their thoughts obviously still busy with processing our findings.

"Okay, come on!" Steve says.

Rose takes off her jacket too, exposing a gray T-shirt with a psychedelically colored skull on its front.

Jenny studies the piece of clothing with apparent distaste. "Oh Rose, really!"

"Sorry... but how could I know that we'd find a skull today!" Rose's voice is irritated. She shrugs and walks over to her pack.

Jenny has already folded away her coat, and the immaculate white of her blouse is blinding me with reflected sunlight.

Elaine is still in her black jacket, probably cooking inside. But she seems oblivious to the world around us. She moves like a zombie as she walks over to Rose.

The men are taking up their packs as well. Kevin groans and stumbles under the weight, nearly losing his oversized glasses before regaining his balance. Steve shoulders the load with his usual ease, then leads the way into the woods. We follow in his wake, like ducklings trailing their mother.

The forest is surprisingly dense, considering that it was completely absent only an hour ago. The trees look old, some of the stems fat and mossy. Trunks of even older trees, in various states of decay, litter the ground, making progress difficult.

The air carries the rich, humid smell of things green and alive.

I try to think of anything but boots and skulls, and I vaguely remember a lesson in geography. "This place looks completely untouched," I say. "Like what we had in geography, last week... like a primeval forest."

"And how's that supposed to help us?" Rose asks, her voice tight. She is usually a gentle-minded and friendly person, but she is apparently irritated right now. I can't blame her.

Some minutes later we reach another clearing.

Shrubs and grass surround a cluster of decayed buildings huddled close together as if seeking mutual support or solace. Rusty metal girders reach into the sky, two or three stories high, but the walls of the upper floors are missing. Large slabs of some grayish material, disjointed and askew, are all that remains of them.

"This doesn't look like the pavilion," Steve notes.

I remember the wooden sphere of the pavilion that I saw from the ridge. "No surprise there. The pavilion was made of wood. It must have rotted away," I say. "These are the buildings that used to stand next to it.

The others look at me with surprise or incomprehension.

"Don't you see?" I ask. "Since this morning ... many years must have passed. Everything is old, overgrown. Everything has rotted away, has decayed."

"No shit!" says Jenny.

I wonder how she manages to make such statement sound classy and cool while this situation cramps my stomach.

Kevin nods. "I think you're right, Leona. That explains the forest, the decayed buildings, the weather, the season... and also the time of day."

"The time of day?" Rose asks.

Kevin grins. "You see the sun?" He points at the sun over the horizon. "It'll set soon." In fact, the shadows have grown longer. "Now look at that pink watch of yours."

"It's half past one... noon," Rose says. "Weird!"

Not even the time of day is right. Having missed lunch is somehow even weirder than having skipped all those years.

"Hello! Anyone hear me?" Steve has placed himself into the clearing and yells at the top of his lungs. His bellow is impressive. A flock of birds takes off, screeching angrily.

"Do you think that the others are anywhere near?" Rose asks, her voice high.

Kevin shakes his head. "Do you remember the patch of wet grass that has carried us here? The one we were standing on when it happened?"

Rose nods.

"It had a diameter of some ten meters," Kevin continues. "Anything that stood on it, us included, must have been carried here... into this time. But anything outside it... we haven't seen any signs that anything outside it has been carried here." He shrugs. "You remember... everything outside seemed to be cut off."

I guess we're all thinking about that boot now—and the leg.

"So you think we're the only ones that have been... brought here?" Rose seems close to tears. "The others are still back there?"

Kevin presses his lips together and nods.

"And this time..." Jenny asks, and takes a breath, "...when is it? How many years have passed?"

Kevin seems at a loss, which is untypical. "I'm as baffled as you are. As Leona has said, the buildings have decayed. New trees have grown... and some of them have already collapsed again. Several decades? Centuries?"

A bizarre thought. Then something dawns on me. "So, this would mean that anyone we knew is now kind of old and gray... or dead?"

Kevin hesitates, then he nods.

I take off my backpack and sit on a fallen tree trunk.

Kevin frowns, his lips moving with silent words. Steve is stomping the grass of the clearing, looking this way and that, like a caged animal. Jenny looks irritated, her hands fidgeting with the straps of the backpack at her feet.

Elaine sits on the trunk beside me, silent as usual. Rose stands by her side, eyes wide. Tears run down her cheeks—she's the only one not trying to keep her cool.

I walk over to Rose and lay my arm over her shoulders.

She looks at me and shakes her head. "This can't be. Tell me this can't be."

I press my lips together and squeeze her.

The fat, black cat of dread at the back of my mind starts competing with a vicious panther of panic. But when Steve looks our way, I manage to give him a lame smile.