The driver, a Black man with straight brown hair, pulled his car up to the curb and assessed the scene. A lone woman was slumped against the wall of a nightclub, illuminated by a flickering neon sign. Even with the window up, the cloying, sour smell of alcohol reached him, staining the night air.

  "You're Jaqueline?" he asked, keeping his tone professional.

  The woman lifted her head with effort, her eyes glassy. "Uh-huh..." she slurred.

  She's completely wasted, thought the driver, Carlos, with a mix of pity and concern. Please don't let her puke in my car.

  He watched as she staggered toward the vehicle, fumbled the door open, and collapsed heavily into the passenger seat. Most women check the license plate and my face before getting in. This one's lost the ability to think straight.

  The door had barely clicked shut when a late flicker of prudence seemed to ignite in her foggy mind. "You're Carlos?"

  "Yes, that's me, Jaqueline. What's the safety code?" he asked, following protocol.

  The woman stared at him, confused, as if he'd just spoken in Aramaic. Then, she looked down at her phone, her clumsy fingers struggling to navigate the screen. To Carlos, those seconds stretched into minutes, the smell of alcohol intensifying inside the cabin. Impatient, he rolled down all the windows, letting the night breeze wash in.

  "Four... one... eight... one..." she finally spelled out.

  Carlos entered the code into the app and put the car in drive without another word. Normally I make small talk, but in this state, it's a waste of time. It's already 2 AM. I just want to finish this ride and crash.

  His tired, melancholic eyes scanned the empty streets. The city was asleep, but his mind was alert, churning with old frustrations. I was the first in my family to go to college. Everyone expected great things from me... and look where I ended up. A construction site caught his eye, not for the structure, but for the billboard out front. "Ferreira Garcia Construction." Three names were listed as the lead engineers: Renato, Eduarda, and Fábio Ferreira Garcia.

  I don't believe it... The two worst students in my class, the ones who cheated on every test, are the only ones who got jobs in the field. A bitter taste rose in his throat. Of course. Their dad owns the company. It's all about who you know. I was so naive. I thought studying and working hard was enough. While I was grinding as a waiter by day and killing myself studying at night, the 'daddy's boys' were being handed the throne on a silver platter.

  The bitterness was a familiar flavor in his mouth. He followed the app's route on autopilot, fueled by exhaustion, until a weak voice pulled him back to reality.

  "Hey, it's just up there at my hou—" The sentence was cut short by a guttural sound. A sour, sweet smell instantly filled the car. Jaqueline tried to lean toward the window, but she was too late. Vomit gushed out, splattering the door and the floor mat, dripping in sticky strands.

  "M'sorry..." she whispered, her voice frail and ashamed.

  Carlos sighed, too tired to feel real anger. "It's fine. It's that house there, right?"

  "Yeah... If I had more money, I'd give you a tip..."

  "Don't worry about it."

  He circled the block and parked in front of the house. The ride was already paid for. Jaqueline apologized once more and stumbled out of the car, weaving like a sailor on land. Carlos didn't drive off. He watched, a habit he'd developed to ensure vulnerable passengers got inside safely. She rummaged endlessly through her purse before finding the gate key. She struggled to open it, took a few steps, remembered to lock it, and came back. Then, she repeated the chaotic search for her house key. Carlos held his breath. I don't even want to think about what could happen to a woman in this state, passed out on the sidewalk.

  Finally, the front door opened and she disappeared inside.

  Carlos put the car in drive. The stench of vomit was unbearable, even with the windows wide open. The night breeze just spread the smell around without dissipating it.

  "Just another miserable day in this miserable life," he muttered to himself.

  If I could go back in time... I'd choose a different major, one that wasn't a dead end. I just wanted to be able to buy a house for my mom. Pay her back a little for everything she did for me.

  Frustration and weariness morphed into a silent recklessness. He began to speed up, taking corners faster than usual. The desperate need to escape that stinking box, to get home and bury his face in the pillow, was a magnet pulling his foot down on the accelerator.

  As he turned a corner onto the main avenue, he didn't see the truck. Or he saw it, but it was too late. The steel behemoth was in the wrong lane, its high beams blinding him like twin suns. There was no time to swerve, no time to brake. All Carlos saw was an explosion of white light, washing out his vision, invading his senses. He squeezed his eyes shut, instinctively, his entire body bracing for the impact that was surely coming.

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  But the impact never came.

  Instead of twisting metal, there was a sensation of emptiness. The car seat simply vanished from beneath him. He fell, suddenly and unceremoniously, onto a cold, damp floor. The landing was jarring, and he felt dirt under his hands, which had instinctively protected his head.

  He opened his eyes.

  Darkness. Absolute. A darkness so profound he couldn't see his own hands in front of his face.

  Am I dead? Is this what it's like?

  He stood up, trembling, and then his eyes were captured. The sky. Never in all his life in the big city had he seen a sky like this. A black velvet cloak studded with diamonds, so many stars it was hard to pick out the constellations. The Milky Way stretched like a luminous, milky river across the firmament. The awe, however, lasted only a moment, quickly replaced by a chill down his spine.

  What the hell? My car? The truck? The city's gone! Where am I?

  A frigid breeze caressed the nape of his neck, raising the hairs on his arms. A dream? But it feels so real... He pinched his arm, hard. The pain was sharp and immediate. Not a dream.

  Was I teleported to the middle of nowhere? Or... to another world? A thread of irrational, fantastic hope sprouted in his chest. If it is... please let it be one of those fantasy worlds. With magic, dragons... a chance to start over, to be someone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The only thing tying me to my old world was my mom, and she's gone. Maybe... maybe this is an opportunity.

  That's when he saw them. Points of orange light, twinkling in the distance, like dancing bonfires.

  People! Maybe they know where I am.

  Cautious, he began walking toward the lights, stumbling over roots and rocks in the dark. As he got closer, he realized the lights weren't static. They were flames. And they were moving.

  Those aren't lights... that's fire! But what kind of fire? Fear made him slow his pace. Better be careful.

  When he was about twenty meters away, a figure emerged from the shadows. A tall Black woman with short-cropped hair, wearing simple, coarse cotton clothes. She ran toward him, her eyes wide with urgency.

  "RUN!" she screamed, her voice a mix of rage and desperation. "Or the slave catchers will get you too!"

  Carlos froze, confused. Then he saw them. The "bonfires" were, in fact, men on horseback. One of them, a bearded man with a vaquero's hat, held a bow. But it was no ordinary bow. From the string, he drew back an arrow made of pure fire, which grew and glowed with a sinister intensity.

  His survival instinct screamed louder than his confusion. Carlos turned and ran.

  He didn't see the man release the arrow. He felt the heat first, a blast-furnace breath on his heel. The fire-arrow exploded on the ground right behind his left foot. The sole of his sneaker partially melted, and the burn throbbed through the fabric.

  Magic! That was real magic! His heart hammered against his ribs. I went from one nightmare straight into another! I'm starting to miss the damn smell of vomit!

  The riders closed in. There were two. An older man, Sebasti?o, and a boy, Jo?o, who couldn't have been more than fourteen.

  "Sir Sebasti?o," the boy said, apprehensive, his hand on the hilt of a vine-whip that had a dull brown gem set in it. "Shouldn't we be careful not to char the merchandise?"

  "Shut up and learn, boy!" Sebasti?o snarled, adjusting his aim with his bow, which was inlaid with an orange gem. "As long as the negro can still work, the Master doesn't complain. I'm controlling the flames. That other one, the Tassi girl, she's slippery in the dark, but this one's clumsier than a drunk rat. We just need to rough him up a bit and the bitch will show herself. The Master pays a fortune for her. Stay sharp, she's close by."

  Jo?o looked at Carlos's strange clothes—the white shirt, the jeans. "But, sir, this guy's dressed all weird. I don't think he's one of the Master's slaves..."

  "So what, kid! A negro's a negro, can't you see? The only good negro is one in chains!"

  Meanwhile, Carlos ran, gasping for air, his arm throbbing where an ember had struck him. They're hunting me for sport! They're not even trying hard!

  Hidden in the shadows, Tassi watched, conflicted. I should disappear... But it's my fault they found him. How was I to know some idiot would be wandering around in the dark at this hour?

  Sebasti?o, seeing Carlos faltering, decided to force her hand. He drew his bow, and a fire-arrow as thick as a man's arm formed, lighting up the night with a threatening glow.

  "Show yourself, you damn ape!" he roared into the shadows. "Or we'll burn this new negro down to charcoal!"

  A rustle of leaves. Sebasti?o spun and fired a smaller, faster arrow toward the sound. Tassi tried to dodge, but the fire-arrow grazed her foot, making her cry out in pain. However, she'd managed to hurl a rock, which struck Sebasti?o on the brow, opening a deep gash.

  "FUCK!" he yelled, clutching his bloody face. "What are you staring at, boy? Capture that bitch!"

  Jo?o, frightened, grabbed a loop of vine from his belt and threw it to the ground. Like a serpent, the vine vanished into the earth and reappeared at Tassi's feet, coiling around her legs and torso with frightening speed, immobilizing her.

  Sebasti?o dismounted, bloody and furious. He stomped over to Tassi, who was now helpless on the ground, and delivered a brutal punch to her face.

  "You worthless whore!" he spat, yanking her head back by her hair. "You're lucky the Master wants you intact!"

  He threw her back down. She landed on her side, groaning, her arms still pinned by the vines.

  Sebasti?o then looked to where Carlos had been. The spot was empty.

  He was irritated for a second, but a cruel smile spread across his bloody face. He turned back to Tassi. "Ha ha ha! You see that? Your little friend left you to die like a mangy dog!"

  Tassi's expression didn't change, but before Sebasti?o could continue his torture, a rock flew from the darkness and struck the back of his head with a sickening thud. He cried out in pain and surprise, falling to his knees. Carlos emerged from the shadows, driven by a desperate surge of adrenaline, and threw himself on the slave catcher, kicking his gut and back repeatedly.

  "BEHIND YOU!" Tassi's shout echoed.

  Carlos tried to turn, but he was too late. Jo?o's vine-lasso wrapped around his arms and torso, tightening like a constrictor snake. He fought, but it was useless. The last thing he saw was the hilt of Sebasti?o's whip coming toward his head. Then, only darkness.