A/N: Okay, I know that none of this seems to be even a little relevant to 'The Outsiders', but I promise you, it is coming. I just needed to get a little bit of background stuff out. And just as a little side note, I actually did live in Groton for a little while when I was younger. Not really important, but, hey, it's an author fun fact. Again, any reviews are muchly appreciated. :D

Michael drove from the Island until we got to Fredericton. There we filled up the gas tank, grab some lunch at a local vegetarian restaurant, as well as to stock up our bag of snacks, and then I took over the driving for a while. We reached the Canadian/ American border in Belleville by three. Being summer time, we still had several hours of time to drive before dark, so we had decided to drive a little bit further before stopping to find a place to stay for the night.

"This sure is fun," I stated later that night as I pulled bedclothes out of my suitcase at our hotel room in Portland.

"Frigging right it is," Mike replied, looking up at the ceiling. "I just can't wait until we get to New York tomorrow."

"Me either!" I almost squealed. "I want to see Phantom!"

"Is that all that you care about?" he laughed as I ran to the bathroom to get changed. "We're going to New York City tomorrow, and all you can think about it a stupid play?"

"It's a musical!" I called from inside the bathroom. "Not a play. And yes, I can't wait to see it!"

"Whatever," he laughed. "There are more important things for us to do, I think."

The next morning, we were up early again, something that neither of us was overly fond of. Neither one of us spoke much for the first few hours, but by the time we reached Connecticut, we had gotten into our first argument.

"There is absolutely no way we're stopping," Mike said loudly, looking at me. "What is the reason for it?"

"Oh, I don't know," I snapped, sarcastically. "I only lived there for a while. I want to stop for a little while; even just an hour."

"And what are you going to do in an hour?" Mike scoffed.

"Please?" I begged him. "I had some good times there! I just want to drive through town; maybe stop at Fort Griswold for some pictures or something."

He was quiet for a minute, but finally sighed, and I knew I had won.

"Alright," he said grudgingly. "We can stop in Groton; but only for an hour. I want to be in New York before night."

"Thanks." I sat back in my seat, smiling smugly. I knew I would win; I always got what I wanted, one way or another.

As promised, Mike turned off the ramp and into Groton shortly after noon. We stopped, first for a bite to eat, and then we drove through town to where the Fort was situated.

The town was just as I had remembered it; it was fairly small and quiet, with not a whole lot going on. I immediately fell in love again.

The Fort, also, was just like I remembered it to be. The monument stood tall and proud, just as large as I remembered it to be. Like usual, we were the only people there, with the exception of the people who worked there, and I was ecstatic. I walked through the big, wrought-iron gates and smiled. This had been my favorite place to come, as a child, being so peaceful. I walked leisurely through the small tunnel and along the inside of the fort, looking at the buildings, before moving down to the waterfront. It was so quiet; I could hear my heart beating.

"Are you almost done?" Mike asked, standing behind me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah," I replied, snapping a few pictures of the river before turning around. "Yeah, I'm ready to head out."

We walked back up the hill to where we had parked the car on the side of the road.

We'd been in New York for several days, and neither one of us wanted to leave. I had finally made it to Broadway to see 'Phantom of the Opera', we had spent hours walking up and down the streets getting hopelessly lost, watched entertainers performing in Time Square, and attempted to get into bars every night. We actually succeeded in this twice, resulting in two very hung over days for the two of us.

"I think we should leave," Michael said one morning as we lay in our own beds, blinds drawn against the deathly rays of the sun. "We're going to end up spending all of our money here, and never leaving."

"I agree," I groaned, turning over to face him. "I don't know if I can handle drinking every night anymore."

"You can't handle drinking?" Mike looked up at me, his jaw hanging open. "I never thought I'd hear you say that, Kate. What happened to my cousin who could drink a quart a night?"

"She's still here," I replied, sitting up gingerly. "Give me whisky or give me beer, and I can do it. Hell, rum or vodka will even do, but I can't handle any more of these sissy drinks that people keep buying me. There's more sugar than alcohol, and they're making me sick."

Mike laughed and rolled out of bed. "Let's head out now," he said.

I groaned again, but crawled out of bed and rooted through my bag for some clean clothes to wear.

We were on the road within an hour. I drove for the first little bit, while Mike slept in the passenger seat. I grinned when I saw that he wasn't awake, and slipped my favorite CD into the player. Before long, I was outside of the city limits, rocking out to the good oldies of country music.

We spent the next two weeks traveling down the Eastern coastline, and back up through the more central states. I had finally gotten to see Disney World, Daytona Beach, the horse farms of Kentucky and Virginia, the Grand Ole Opry, and many other things that I had wanted to see. Mike and I were having a blast.

I called my mother several times during those weeks. I told her everything that we'd been up to, and she filled me in on everything that I was missing back at home. Each call ended with her telling me that the family loved me, to be careful, and, because Papa made her promise to tell me, to stay away from the Snake.

Every time she mentioned it, I, again, got the chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Frustrated, I would shake my head to clear it and tell myself that I was being stupid to listen to what he was saying. I was safe enough.

After driving for several hours, I was starting to get tired, so we stopped in Columbus, Ohio. We grabbed some lunch, and then hit the road again. I curled up on the seat and let myself drift off to sleep.

I woke much later, screaming. Mike, scared shitless, swerved, almost hitting an oncoming vehicle. I sat bolt upright, gripping the leather seat with both hands.

"Jesus Christ, Katie!" Mike swerved back again, amid furious honking from all around. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I'm sorry," I gasped, still terrified. "I had a dream…"

"About what?"

"I don't know," I admitted, feeling like an idiot. "I don't remember what it was about, but it scared the daylights out of me."

"Yeah, me too."

We were silent for another few minutes, and I still couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong, that something was going to happen. It was like a heavy, constant pressure that wouldn't go away. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I brushed them back impatiently. Finally, I turned to look at my cousin.

"Where are we at, Mike?"

"Ohio," he informed me.

I rolled my eyes. "Duh," I sighed. "Where are we going?"

"Well, according to that sign," he said, pointing, "we are only ten kilometers from Serpent Mound."

"Where?" I looked at him, wide eyes, horrified.

"Serpent Mound," he replied, looking at me curiously. "Are you okay, Kate?"

"No," I almost screamed at him. "We need to leave here, now!" I quickly explained Papa's warning, and my own 'bad feeling', and he went pale.

"Okay," he said quickly. "I'll turn off the next ramp."

But it was too late. Before we knew what was happening, a fog began to roll in. Within seconds, we were encased in a dense haze, unable to see any other vehicles around us. Mike immediately slowed down to an almost crawl, so we wouldn't hit anyone else, and hoped that whoever behind us was doing the same.

The pressure began to increase, and I was finding it hard to breathe. I gasped loudly, and looked at Mike, who was looking back at me, his face pale with fear.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, and his voice was much higher than usual. "The pressure?"

I nodded, unable to say a word.

Mike pulled over, stopping the car on the side of the road, and we gripped hands. I had never been so scared in my life. From somewhere, there was an unearthly, terrible screaming noise, and I covered my ears, trying in vain to block it out. It increased in intensity, and then, with a flash of bright light, I passed out.