It started as all good journey start: with a fight.

"If no one else could go then you said that you wouldn't go alone! Besides, it's a bad neighborhood and it's Cinco de Mayo and you'll be all alone and if anything happens to you--"

And I could hear the underlying sentiment in her words. You do a lot of awesome things. Why do you have to play some crazy street game, and why now? Can't you just stay home with us, and we'll go watch Avengers like a normal family and smile and it'll all be fine.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to see Avengers. But I had just spent my morning taking three horribly boring SAT subject tests, even though I didn't care, even though I hate the system. And all I had been doing for the past week was practice APs. I was tired of doing things in boxes. I wanted to be stupid and reckless for a night, and have an adventure.

So I glared at her, and my voice turned to ice. "I can get there using public transportation in an hour and a half, and can get back at 1 AM. You are not going to stop me."

I will not recount the rest of the argument, because it involved repeating those two statements over the course of about three hours with steadily increasing decibels. In the end, though, my stubbornness won out. I had just enough time to equip myself--vest, check, trench coat, check, giant staff, check, hiking boots, check, Bag of Holding, check--before we were off in the car. A rather icy ride. But the music more than made up for it.

The moment we arrived at the park, I saw a Large Threatening Cloaked Figure all in black, face covered, with red, fingerless gloves. I grinned at Mother, a told-you-so type grin. "My people," I said. "See ya at 10:45!"

My first objective was to find myself a group to latch on to. The prerequisite for such a group was that I hoped they would know the area, and be fairly confident, and be, you know, fun to run around with. Well, I started asking around, but absolutely no one knew the area.

One group that I talked to wanted to split up and go alone. Other people were just clumping together, but none of them looked serious, none of them would offer me any sort of advantage...

So I decided to bite my lip and go talk to the Super Intense group that was huddling to the side, whispering and pointing at their maps.

Our introduction went slightly like this:

"Hello!"

"Staff!"

"Well, yes."

"Staffofprotectionsocoolweshouldhavethoughtofthis!"

I grinned and plopped down beside them. "So what's the plan?"

"Everyone's going to be going the direct route, so we thought we'd loop around through the hills and come down from the side, see? We'll be at the end of the group so we'll avoid the chasers."

"You're going past two bonus checkpoints!" I said, whipping out my own map and comparing it. "You would improve the efficiency of your route immensely if you stopped at those two along the way!"

Now, the way this game works is simple. Everyone gets a blue armband, and must use either their own feet or busses, no other form of transportation, to get to six checkpoints spread across a five mile radius and accomplish tasks at those checkpoints. There are safe-zones surrounding the checkpoints. If anywhere in between, one gets tagged by someone with a red armband, they give over their blue armband become a red chaser, too. The first blue to make it through all six wins, any blue who finishes wins, and the red chaser with the most blue armband wins. Bonus checkpoints help you win an extra prize.

Other plans I suggested before we even exchanged names: exchanging phone numbers, not worrying about flashlights because when you're trying not to be found, anyone with a source of light becomes an Instant Target (thank you, Kr, for teaching me that one), and that one only needs to run faster than everyone else around them.

(They laughed at that one, saying that they had brought some Chaser Fodder--two friends who were yet to arrive.)

Mitch, JC, and JT.

The other two arrived, the clock hit 7, rules were explained to us--"It's all written on the map we gave you. We know you've been pouring over it. Pretty much, everything it says there!"

"So when do we start?"

"Now! Go!"

--and we were off.

We snuck down to the back of the part, and made our way up into the hilly and badly lit suburbia. The Cannon Fodder and I got along quite well--we made contingency plans if one of us became a chaser, which was to stick together, and make our way to some checkpoint, then I could raise my staff and say, "Minions! Attack!" and they would rush forward from behind me and chase everyone and make awesome scenes (Wayfinder, Westfinder, you have trained me well.) We made a lot of Gandalf jokes. We started debating Legend of Korra theories, mostly about Amon. We even came up with a team name: Team Notzombiegrub.

Then we all looked at our maps and realized we were hopelessly lost, because the maps didn't print the eensy beensy side streets.

Oops.

So we decided to risk going back down to the main street and taking a straight shot to the first checkpoint. We scouted around all the corners, but there was no one at all, no blue armbands or red. It was quite disconcerting.

I feel slightly bad for the single pedestrian in black whom we passed. We must have been a strange sight, strutting along with our blue armbands, and, of course, I was a spectacle already with my massive staff and trench coat. And then, as he approached (well, it was too dark to tell if he had a red armband!) we all glanced at one another then circles waaaaay off the sidewalk, shooting him suspicious glances.

The look on his face. It was absolutely priceless.

One of my Legend of Korra friends asked me what high school I went to, because I reminded him of someone in his class.

"Marymount High School," I said.

"Oh," he looked slightly disappointed as he scrunched his forehead with the effort of remembering.

"But, um, I'm sort of still in high school," I said.

"OOH. Then definitely not--oh, wow, we all just assumed..." Actually, the whole thought that I was at least college age. I appeased them by telling that I was after all going to college next year, because I was bored with high school.

Finally, we made it to the road of the first checkpoint. We darted across traffic, down under the bridge.

"Are we late?" someone asked.

"A wizard is never late!" I admonished. "She arrives precisely when she intends to!"

Then I grabbed my Stamina Potion +1 (water with electrolytes, all the way!) and took a swig for good measure.

Down at the first checkpoint, the man sitting looked at us skeptically, and asked us if we had a pen.

Everyone looked around nervously.

I started digging through my Bag of Holding.

I produced two feathers and a chopstick before I managed upon a pen, but the point is, I did produce a pen eventually. Mitch and JT looked at me with increased respect. "You do realize that you have become invaluable to this group now, right?"

Now, my carriage...well, it didn't quite turn into a pumpkin, more the driver turned so grumpy that my head would end up in a pumpkin, if I missed the stroke of 10:45. It was 8:30 and we had just gotten to the first checkpoint, so we decided to re-evaluate our plan. Namely, taking long and off-the-grid routes didn't really work, because we got so glubbing lost. We would have to make a straight shot, and run through the half-mile choke point.

With this agreed upon, we hurried down the big streets.

It was strange, all the lights, all the noise, it made us even more paranoid about chasers jumping out at us. We got to the bridge under the freeway, and decided to break off and go on a bike path along the river. Three minutes in, though, we saw two dark figures glance at one another, then hide behind a lightpost.

We froze.

Were we going to get shanked or caught?

We sprinted back to the highway, and decided to take the other route.

After we passed under the highway came the half-mile run. It was getting late, we were getting tired, we were getting serious, so the jokes stopped and the pounding of our feet against the ground started.

This was about when the soles of my feet were turning to bloody blisters.

And I had never felt better or more alive in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I don't like exercise or anything. But running along with my trench coat streaming out behind me, staff in one hand, and knowing that I was running for my life, for my life, because it was my life and maybe it hurt but I had chosen this, I had chosen this because this is where I belonged, on the streets, with a trench coat and staff, surrounded by friends, in a chase of hunter and hunted, on an adventure, and no number of APs could ever take that away from me--that was worth all the bloody blisters in the world.

We began to see a few other groups coming back from the second checkpoint at the other side of the road. They shouted incomprehensibly at us. We exchanged a nervous look, then sped up.

But we reached the second checkpoint, a large fountain backlit by red, making it appear like Dark and fantastic, without incident. The two ladies dressed in robes of white and black directed us to run around the fountain.

The River is flowing,
flowing,
flowing,
The River is flowing,
back to the sea.

They sat us down one by one, tilted our heads back, and poured the water through our hair. Then, they anointed our foreheads, then they signed our maps.

Sweet Kaia, carry me
Your child I will always be
Sweet Kaia, carry me
Back to the sea.

(And yes, I was singing Her lullaby prayer the entire time. If I was going to be baptized, of course it was going to be in the name of the River Kaia.)

We checked the clocks. 9:45. I called Mother and told her I might be on the late end. Then we hurried over to the third checkpoint.

The journey was long, and our feet were pretty much dead, but it was fairly uneventful because we got back to the river in record time, and the bike path from the bridge heading the other direction, towards 3, was safe all the way down. The amazing part here were the two Chaser Fodder friends had a complete turn of heart. Their initial impression of the game was that they were going to be finding checkpoints at bars. They hadn't wanted to be baptized. Really, this whole thing was just and excuse before they went Cinco de Mayo partying.

And now that they had two checkpoints under they belt, their entire attitudes changed.

The girl, who wore fancy boots and was limping by this point, had a look of complete and utter determination plastered across her face. The guy, JT, JC, Mitch, and I all discussed Chaser tactics. We decided that we were probably in the back middle of all the players, which was exactly where we wanted to be. Why we hadn't seen any chasers, though, ranged from "They're just as lost as we are" to "Maybe no one has been tagged yet" to "Maybe they're just waiting somewhere else." Either way, it was a moot point, since the entire river was safe.

Just as we were all ready to collapse from exhaustion, and agreed that this year's route was far too spread out, we saw the lights of a bridge. Salvation. Maybe they'd have a bench.

They did indeed have a bench, and a curious challenge. First, answer a riddle:

What runs but cannot walk,
Whispers but cannot talk,
Has a bed but cannot sleep,
Has a mouth but cannot eat?

They were really playing the "river" theme that night.

With the answer in our heads, we made our way to an old man, whom we had to snatch a quarter from. It was pretty much like the hand-slappy-but-you-pull-your-hand-away game (yes, that is honestly what I've always called it. Got a problem with that?), and we all got our quarters.

Then, the next challenge: we had to get across to the other side of the river, and all of the chasers and runners who had become chasers had decided to congregate on the bridge.

We scouted it out--no way we could run it. We looked at the other runners here, but they were all taking off their shoes to ford the river, something we didn't want to resort to. Then I suggested, "What about that bridge?"

We shrugged and decided to make our way over, assuming that maybe there would be less chasers and some of us would have a chance. The path was dark towards that end, and we had to bushwack to get up, then hop a fence onto a cement ramp and climb the dirt and--

Oh.

The freeway.

No wonder no one was using it.

We all exchanged looks again, expressions ranging from complete disbelief to stone-hard determination.

Then, silently, we ran.

The wind from the river blew my trench coat back. I clutched my staff as tightly as possible. Glass crunched under my feet, and a steady river of white lights flew past me. The rushing of cars was the only thing I could hear, the wind of their wakes pushing me backwards but I ran on, a mad laugh bubbling up in my throat.

I was running across the freeway.

I was on top of the planet.

I was balanced on the edge of one dark river beneath me and one bright river of chrome and rubber death to the right of me, and I ran on.

I was alive.

And then it struck me.

It was beautiful.

It was so breathtakingly beautiful.

I had never thought my city--any city--was beautiful before.

But I didn't hate it. Couldn't hate it. Because I was a part of the insanity, the lights and the darkness, the wind and the water, the people, the places--and it was all a part of me. My city. My people. My Journey.

And then it was done. We were back over the railings and in the dirt on the side of the bridge and laughing, laughing because we had run across the freeway bridge and sure, we were at the side of the road but of course there were no chasers because no one was as insane as we were but look at us, we were alive, we were alive and we were still running and life was fantastic.

We stumbled down along the river and made our way to the second half of the third checkpoint, led by a man wearing an absolutely spiffy red fedora.

"You three," he said to JC, JT, and Mitch, "Must take these water bottles and get me some water from the River. And you," he said, addressing me, "Must do your part in keeping the river flowing by returning this water from whence in came."

We all hurried to the river and filled and emptied our bottles respectively.

Fedora man stroked his chin.

"Your final challenge is you must sing a Queen song loud enough for the other side to hear you."

We shared another glance.

"Bohemian?"

"Bohemian."

Then, hearts still pounding in our ears, relief and victory echoing in our voices, hopelessly out of tune but full of hope and camaraderie and life, we all belted:

IS THIS THE REAL LIFE?
OR IS THIS JUST FANTASY?
CAUGHT IN A LANDSLIDE,
NO ESCAPE FROM REALITY.

It was magic.

Unfortunately, as I glanced down at my watch (10:30), I knew that such magic had to end.

I turned to my group.

"Team Notzombiegrub, it has been an honor running with you, and I wish you best of luck in your endeavors." They nodded. High fives were exchanged. Then I broke off, and bit my lip.

And approached a group of Chasers waiting in the safe zone.

"Greeting. I was wondering if you would like to make a...deal."

They looked at one another suspiciously. "What sort of deal?"

"My carriage turns to a pumpkin at the stroke of 10:45, and I am looking for an escort back to the main road before this carriage comes and chases me down. My group is heading off to a different checkpoint, and I don't necessarily want to try to navigate the streets alone at night. So my deal is this--escort me back towards the final checkpoint, and when we reach it, I shall present you with my life as a gift."

One raised his eyebrow skeptically. "You know, we could just tag you and take your life."

"Aye. You could. And then you'd be like any other chaser in the game. I am offering you the chance to be the only chaser with a life that has been freely given, instead of snatched from an unwilling victim. And life freely given is the greatest gift a person can give."

He still looked skeptical, but his friend elbowed him. "Come on, let's escort the lady home. It'll be a sidequest."

We made our way back to the road, the chasers taking my flanks but careful not to touch me, ducking under the fence and across the bridge, down another bridge, and finally, back to San Fernando. I could see my mother's van, and for good measure, she beeped at me.

I turned back to my escort. "Thank you, and I wish you best of luck in the rest of the game." Then I got down on one knee, removed my blue armband, and presented it to them. They took is solemnly, bowed, and walked away.

Still grinning, I skip-limped over to the car and swung in. The door slammed shut, the chariot took off, and my night of adventure was over with me safe, sound, and quite pleased with myself. And perhaps a few blisters richer, but was it ever so worth it.