Up ahead you see them: two more weary souls, drawing ever closer to our little band. One is a woman, her clothing decidedly upscale and the smell of expensive perfume clinging to her skin, even in this wretched place. You seem to remember seeing her picture before. Maybe in a magazine? In fact, you can almost think of her name. Anita... Clavell. That was it! Now you remember: she's that author who seems perpetually stuck on the bestseller lists. You've even read a couple of her books. You never did quite understand what people saw in them, but they certainly were popular. It seems you remember reading she was a lonely person, with no real family to speak of. But you know that sometimes the written word can take on a life of its own, becoming just like a dear friend or family member. In fact, sometimes it even seems like it can become a portal to other worlds.

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