"There is no order without chaos."

''...But we're still in Colorado, right?''

Phil's question sounded more sarcastic than concerned.

''No, we're probably in Oklahoma, this tunnel is just the state line,'' Kurt jokingly answered him, with a slight sense of irritation in his voice.

Phil turned away and checked his phone. His face showed that he wasn't happy with the situation. He often got nervous if things didn't go according to his plan. Frustrated by his phone, Phil pulled a tablet from his backpack in the backseat. Even on the tablet, the network was gone.

Kurt also took out his phone to look at the maps. But he had the same problem: he couldn't open the maps because there was no network. He then stashed the phone, took a nervous exhale, and covered his eyes with his hands.

''Look, Phil, let's just get out of these woods and onto the road. It should be fine there,'' Kurt said.

''Oh, yeah, you're right,'' Phil answered, taking the car off the handbrake.

The evening began to change more and more quickly into the night. Phil's Mercedes started bouncing uncomfortably on rough terrain.

'I guess there's no way to avoid replacing the suspension after this roller coaster,' Phil thought and pressed his head down as low as possible to avoid hitting the ceiling due to his height.

As Phil drove through the dark woods, Kurt tried to set in some frequency on the radio. Pointless. Just static noise and nothing more. Realizing the futility of his attempts, he turned off the radio and turned to his phone, where he was still trying to catch the network.

Fifteen minutes passed, and finally, the car pulled out of the woods and onto the road. As he turned right, Phil hoped they would reach his house soon, though he was not in the mood to watch hockey, and neither was his friend. They just wanted to get home and rest. Just lie down on the couch and forget this unscheduled trip through the woods in an expensive Mercedes.

There was still no radio or network. It was as if a large radar station somewhere was preventing them from catching the network. Nervous tension was already running high for both of them. The only thing that kept them calm was the realization that they would soon reach Phil's house.

Kurt didn't want to bother his friend right now. Phil is his best friend, but he has a volatile temperament. He is usually cheerful and can keep up a good conversation. However, some things can make him mad. All this is due to his training at the police academy and, in part, to playing hockey. Phil once jokingly told him: "Very often the nervous tension on the ice reaches its peak and players just freak out. Sometimes hockey players don't even need a reason to start a fight. Hockey is played by really crazy people. What makes them crazy? It's all because of hockey." Before moving to Denver, though, Phil was a calm teenager his age.

Surprisingly, they didn't see a single car the entire time they traveled. Soon, the woods began to give way to small clearings, and then the lights of the town came into view. Kurt hadn't been to this part of Colorado before but didn't pay much attention. Phil's eyes ranged from curious to confused.

''You know, I don't remember there being a town here. I don't understand. Damn, we're lost,'' he said.

''And, what are we gonna do?'' Kurt asked.

''I think I have an idea. If it's a city, there's got to be a network there. Let's go there, find the Internet, and then I'll put a mark on the map again, and drive to my house.''

Then, they drove into a suburban neighborhood of the city. Kurt knew about such places from movies and TV shows. Gloomy, poorly lit, dirty.

Ghetto...

A place no one wants to go. Even the police stay away from these places. Kurt still remembers how a colleague of his father's drove into a similar neighborhood in Poyt Grady. So the people living there robbed him, beat him up, but, thank God, didn't kill him. When he called the police, the person on the other end of the line said, "Jesus Christ, how did you get there? What the hell are you doing there?". Screw this kind of adventure! For God's sake, send in the troops, these places are completely out of control.

Kurt looked around without much interest. Phil's eyes darted from side to side, trying to figure out what was happening and where they are. Silhouettes loomed on the sidewalk. It's definitely ghetto. The silhouettes put their attention to them. To the dark yellow Mercedes. And they definitely know it's an expensive car. And also know if it's an expensive car, the owner is rich. Rich people are rare in these places. It looks like a jackpot to people like them. A car is not a fortress. It's only a matter of time before you get your windows broken and then robbed.

Hard braking! Tire rattle!

Kurt didn't expect Phil to do that, and if it weren't for the seat belts, he would have flown face-first into the windshield.

''Phil, what are you doing?'' Kurt asked irritably.

Phil said nothing. Then Kurt's irritation faded away as he looked at his friend. He was sitting motionless, like a frozen character in a computer game. His gaze was not straight ahead but slightly to the left and upward. Kurt had never seen his friend like this before. His gaze. Was he...scared? Surprised? Anyway, what is he staring at? Headlights illuminate an empty road.

Without lowering his gaze from the road, Phil turned the key and turned off the car. Now they were in almost total darkness, but Kurt could still see what his friend was doing. The dim light of the flashlight was enough to see what was going on inside the car. Finally, Phil looked away in the other direction. He reached for his backpack and took out mineral water and began to drink it greedily, draining half the bottle. Kurt feels uncomfortable. Phil can only drink water so greedily after a hockey game. What about now?

''Phil, what's going on?'' Kurt asked nervously.

His friend didn't answer him at first. First, he put the bottle back in his backpack, opened the window a little, looked once more into the dark distance, and said:

''Phew, sorry, Kurt. I thought I saw...''

Phil mumbled something in a whisper.

''What?'' Kurt asked him, a note of confidence in his voice.

''Ahem... I was... I thought there was a... uh... how can I put this? You know, in Ancient Egypt, people used to depict gods with animal heads. Like... Anubis, you know... I thought I saw one of them.''

''Oh, my God. Phil, you're hallucinating. You really need sleep. Let's put it this way. Take us to your house, I'll stay the night, and tomorrow morning I'll take a taxi home. I'm also feeling dizzy from this trip, and I want to sleep as well. So, come on, start the car, and let's get out of here.''

''Okay, let's go...''

As soon as Phil turned the key in the ignition, he heard something strange. A woman's cry came to his ears from the wind blowing down the street. Kurt heard it, too, and his desire to get out of here grew stronger than before.

''Did you hear that?'' Phil asked.

''Man, I have a really bad feeling about this.''

''I'm gonna go check it out. Maybe someone needs help. I'm will be a cop soon, after all.''

''Phil, are you lost your mind? Don't do that. What if they armed...''

But Phil didn't say anything. He got up silently and got out of the car, and before closing the door, he said in an orderly tone:

''Stay here, Kurt.''

Phil took a slow step toward the source of the sound and, after a few seconds, disappeared in the darkness. Minutes passed. Kurt couldn't believe this. He thought he was dreaming. He was in a ghetto... The atmosphere of this place gave him the worst thoughts. Why did he agree to this ride? Only to watch a match between the Colorado Avalanche and the Vancouver Canucks on a big expensive screen at Phil's house? Damn this hockey. This match was probably over a long time ago. There are more important things Kurt could have done tonight.

Against Phil's order, Kurt got out of the car and breathed in the night air. It helped a little. His legs were aching after sitting in the car for over an hour. So it was good to get out and stretch them a little.

''Hey, buddy. I haven't seen you around here before. You're not a local, huh? I never see cars like this one,'' A hoarse voice parted the darkness.

Someone was sitting on a small crate against the wall of the house. Great, now we got the attention of local inhabitants.

''You must be here for this. Come closer and look at the prices.''

''No, I'm sorry, I don't have time.''

''I understand, fingers aren't exactly fresh. But it's still better than nothing. Three carnivores bought them from me and said it was worth it. I guarantee no one will know.''

''What? I don't understand. What carnivores? What the hell are you talking about?'' Kurt was filled with indignation and began to approach the dark figure slowly.

''Oh, so you're a herbivore, friend. Sorry. My mistake.''

With each new word from the mysterious stranger from the ghetto, Kurt had more and more questions. Interest took precedence over self-preservation. Kurt wanted answers to his questions. Only this figure was the source of answers.

Kurt got close enough...

''Oh, are you a carnivore after all?'' the stranger said. ''All right, have a look...''

What Kurt saw could not be described. Maybe Stephen King could do it, but just not the average person. It feels like a horror movie. But it's not, it was a reality that Kurt didn't want to accept.

These hands are not human at all... not human hands without three fingers...

And their owner has no human face...

It's not a human...

Is it a monster?

No, it's an animal, just an animal... An animal without three fingers on its hands... A humanoid animal without three fingers... A humanoid... a hog... without fingers... With its fingers chopped off... or bitten off...

''You can take any finger you want. It's only 75,000 yen for any one of them.'' it said and showed its personal "live" merchandise.

It reeked of rot. Kurt suddenly felt nauseous. But the horror was stronger. He let out a scream. It was as if his body said, "We've got to get out of here, now," and then he ran from the hog.

But a few seconds later, something grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt. Kurt turned around reflexively. In the dim light of the flashlight, he recognized a human hand and face. It was Phil. But his face was as pale as a dead man. With a terrible grimace of horror on it.

''I told you to stay in the car!'' he shouted, leading Kurt to his car. ''Oh God... Jesus Christ, we need to get out of here.''

Phil shoved his friend into the backseat of his car. He repeated "God" and "Jesus" countless times, and Kurt still sees the image of this hog before his eyes.

The car started up and picked up speed quickly. Phil had never driven like this before.

''Phil, what's going on?!'' shouted Kurt. ''Where the hell are we?!''

''I don't know, I don't know, I swear to God, I don't know! They killed her! They devoured her, Jesus!''

''Wha- Who? What are you talking about?''

''There were...these...big...wolves... dogs or cats. I don't know. They were like humans. But they were eating someone. I couldn't see much. All I saw were the faces of these freaks. And their eyes.''

The image of that hog was gone, and only the car's ceiling loomed before Kurt's eyes. But it was floated... and transformed into distorted figures that slowly turned into something like a whirlpool. The car was going faster by the minute. But the minutes were getting longer. The lemon-colored ceiling began tearing itself to pieces, and some brownish-red liquid began to ooze through the torn crevices. Drops of this strange juice fell on Kurt's face but immediately burned in the same bloody flames. But he doesn't feel pain from this.

He feels nothing at all...

Phil's voice came from somewhere far away. It was as far away as if the Mercedes had become a long limousine.

''Kurt... don't pass out... don't you dare pass out. We need to...''

But Kurt didn't need anything anymore. He just wanted to fall into the abyss, to make this madness stop. But it continued even in this dark abyss...

Inhuman red eyes... full of rage... and hunger... Inhuman teeth... They were closing in on him...

''Pulse and blood pressure are normal...I assume so...breathing...even.''

''Minor abrasions...''

''What are they, anyway? Check their stuff.''

The madness begins...