Текст книги "The Moon Dwellers"

Автор книги: David Estes

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

There’s a knife hanging from his belt and I manage to extract it by the hilt, the blade naturally gravitating toward my wrist ropes. I caress the blade back and forth, keeping one eye on the group of debaters. I saw through one rope and it falls away. I pull my wrists apart sharply, separating the weakened strands of rope.

The knife slips from my fingers.

I am in a time warp, where seconds tick by like hours. I can see every turn of the knife as it flips end over end to the ground, moving in slow motion. It clatters loudly on the stone floor.

For a second everyone is confused, so I take advantage of the situation, grabbing the guard’s gun—which is conveniently located on the ground between his feet. I point it in the general direction of the cluster of debaters.

I pull the trigger.

The automatic spray of bullets fires wildly above the men, but it has the desired effect. Some drop flat on their stomachs, while others take off running in the opposite direction. Taking advantage of the distraction, I spin and take off the other way. I expect to have to herd Roc in the right direction, but I am pleasantly surprised to see him halfway to the tunnel entrance, carrying our pack and both swords awkwardly with his bound hands. It is a good thing, too, because by the time I reach the halfway mark, the bullets and arrows start flying all around me.

Luckily, as perfect as their aim was when they rescued us from Rivet’s men, their aim is equally off the mark this time, probably a result of the frantic nature of the shots coupled with my erratic movement away from them. Plus, I’m firing haphazard bursts of bullets over my shoulder, which surely distracts them. The closest shot is an arrow that catches a loose bit of my tunic, tearing off a tatter of cloth.

A few more bullets rip bits of rock from the ground at my sides, but nothing gets close enough to worry me. I charge into the tunnel, practically knocking Roc, who is waiting just inside, flat on his buttocks. The next problem: it is freaking dark in the tunnel and I don’t have time to stop and pull a torch from our pack. Even if I did I wouldn’t use it, as it would only draw more attention to our whereabouts.

I loop the gun strap over my shoulder to free up my hands and help Roc sling the pack around his neck. I tuck my sword into its scabbard and use Roc’s sword to cut his hands free. I am wasting too much time, but it will be easier with neither of us bound. I’m not embarrassed to say that I grab Roc’s hand at this point to ensure we can stay together.

Although I was quite observant as we approached the hub—looking for side passages, dangerous obstacles, etc.—I am still worried that at any moment we might slam directly into a rock wall or boulder, ending our smooth escape and breaking our sun dweller noses.

I count the strides as we run, trying to estimate where the first side tunnel is. I know we are getting close. “Slow up, Roc,” I say. I pull him to the left until I brush against the tunnel wall. “Stay along the wall.”

I release his hands and feel along the wall, moving more quickly now that I have something to guide me. We hear a cry from behind, as one of our pursuers enters the tunnel. They can’t see us, but we can see them—a half-dozen torches glow behind us.

Suddenly the wall gives way to my left. “This way,” I hiss, turning the corner and continuing to use the wall as a guide. I know our only hope is to make enough turns that they’ll have to continuously split up to ensure they don’t miss us.

“Faster,” I whisper. I pick up the pace, moving rapidly along the wall. Roc is awesome, obeying my commands to perfection and moving noiselessly behind me.

“Switch sides,” I say, pushing off from the wall and wandering blindly until I find the wall on the opposite side.

I hear voices behind us. They aren’t cries from the chase anymore—more like a discussion. Deciding what to do at the side tunnel. Who will search it versus who will continue down the main tunnel. I ignore them and keep feeling for the next gap.

It comes soon, leading off diagonally to the right. “Bear right,” I say, moving into a new tunnel. If the men do what I expect them to do—continue cutting their numbers at each fork in the road—it will mean that six will follow us down the side tunnel, and now only three will pursue us into the angled tunnel tributary.

I move even faster, running now, praying it’s not a dead end. If you’ve never run at full speed in complete darkness, you should try it sometime. It’s exhilarating. Even if you know you’re in a place where there are no obstacles, nothing to smash into, it’s a real rush. In our case we have no idea what’s up ahead. At any moment we could fall into a deep pit, crashing onto jagged rock spikes at the bottom. Or we might plunge into the depths of an icy underwater river with a fierce current, sucking us deeper underground where we’ll drown.

Because of fate, or the blessings of a higher power, or just plain old dumb luck, none of those things happen. In fact, the best possible thing happens: we reach a small tunnel hub. The rock wall gives way to my right, but I can tell it isn’t a new tunnel because of the arc of the wall. Typically a tunnel hub links between four and eight other tunnels. I have no idea how many this hub will have, but it doesn’t really matter. As long as the guys behind us don’t guess right.

“Hub,” I say for Roc’s benefit. “Count with me. We’ll take the third side tunnel on the right.”

“Yes, sir,” Roc says, managing to mock me even in the worst situation.

I pass a gap in the hub wall. “One,” I say.

“One,” Roc parrots.

The next gap is almost immediately after the first. “Two.”

“Two.”

The third gap is a bit further, but only by a yard or two. “Three,” I say, cutting sharply to the right.

I barely hear Roc’s muffled, “Three,” as the floor drops away beneath me.

Chapter Fifteen

Adele

I wonder how much of attraction is based on looks. I’d never felt anything for Tristan before—not from seeing his pictures on billboards, at least. But now I feel pulled toward him. It’s everything: his looks, his smile, the way he carries himself, those eyes that look at me with an intensity, a yearning, as though without me he will surely perish. The way he said my name—Adele!—his tone filled with such longing.

I can’t hope that he survived the encounter with Rivet and his men. But I can’t stop thinking about him either, which is dangerous. I feel like I need to start detaching my mind from him or I’ll go crazy. Easier said than done.

Elsey is saying something beside me, but I’m not listening. Then I realize her head is cocked to the side and she is staring at me as we walk. She’s asked me a question.

“Wha…what?” I say. She gives me a look. “Sorry, I’m just a little…distracted.”

“Have you met Tristan before?” Elsey isn’t helping with my little detachment project.

“No,” I say.

“Then how’d he know your name?”

“From the news I s’pose.”

“Do you think he’s de—”

“No!” I exclaim, louder than I’d planned. My voice echoes dangerously through the caverns. Ahead of us, Cole and Tawni stop and look back—Cole glares at me while Tawni stands with her hands on her hips.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “No more talking for now, El.”

We walk for the next three hours in silence. We don’t take any side tunnels, afraid that we’ll get turned around and end up going in circles. The tunnel gradually gets thinner and the ceiling lower, until we are forced to march in single file, slightly stooped, Cole then Tawni then Elsey then me. It’s claustrophobic.

When my back begins to ache so badly from the awkward posture that I think I can’t go any further, I hear an elated cry ahead of me. I hasten my steps, realizing I’ve fallen quite far behind. A minute or so later, the tunnel emerges into a small alcove. By small I mean the four of us are barely able to fit. But that’s not what made someone—Tawni, I think—cry out.

I gasp at the wall of water before us. Our path is completely blocked by a waterfall, streaming so effortlessly from above that it appears as smooth as a mirror, the surface marred only by Tawni’s hand, which is stuck into the flow.

“It’s cold,” she announces, cupping her hand and taking a small sip. “And clean, too, I think.”

After our long day of marching, we don’t need further invitation. We line up along the waterfall, drinking until the water is dribbling down our chins, soaking our clothes. It feels wonderful. After we satisfy our thirst, we wash our arms and legs and faces, feeling refreshed for the first since escaping the Pen.

It is as good a place as any to stop, so we do, rationing the food in our packs, which are feeling lighter and lighter.

“What should we do?” Tawni asks. I dread backtracking, trying to find another tunnel to go down, more of the same rough rock walls and single file marching.

“I’m going to see what’s behind that waterfall,” I say, standing up.

“Be careful,” Tawni cautions, “it might drop into a pit.”

“Cole, hold me back,” I say.

Cole joins me at the waterfall and holds my left arm with two hands, lowering himself into a well-leveraged crouch.

I push my hand into the streaming water. It tickles my skin and splashes me in the face, so I turn my head to avoid getting water in my eyes. I force my arm further in, until the water is hitting my elbow, and then my shoulder. Still my hand hasn’t made it through.

“You got me?” I say.

“Yeah,” Cole grunts, straining a bit. “Not too much further though.”

With a deep breath, I duck my head into the icy stream, gasping slightly when the water hits me. All of my weight is being held by Cole now, as I lean over the edge of whatever abyss the falls empty in to.

And then I am through. Although the water is all around me, I can tell that my fingers aren’t being pelted anymore. Mission accomplished. I try to lean back, but gravity’s hold is too strong. In fact, I feel like I’m being pulled downwards. Behind me I can feel Cole’s fingers slipping off my arm as water pours down my head and shoulder.

I am going forward, not back, that much I know. If I let myself simply slip from Cole’s grasp, I will fall awkwardly, potentially hitting my head on a rock, and will most definitely end up taking a dive to wherever all the water is going. I have no other choice.

I wrench my arm free from Cole and leap.

The water pummels me from above as I fly through the air. It is like the liquid has suddenly grown arms and is grabbing at me, trying to pull me down. For all I know, there might be nothing behind the waterfall, just a big dark void, spiraling downward all the way to the earth’s molten core.

My foot lands on something hard and twists to the side. I let out a slight cry and tumble over, skinning an arm on the unforgiving tunnel floor. Complete darkness surrounds me. I don’t have a light. I lie on the ground for a moment, panting, my heart beating faster than a miner’s in a rock cart race. I can hear water rushing all around me. Not just behind, but in front, too. At first I think it’s just the echo of the waterfall I jumped through, but when I crawl forward a few feet, I find that another waterfall blocks my way.

Suddenly, I have a desire to leap through the next waterfall. And then the one after that, if there is one. Hesitating for a moment, I come to my senses and feel my way back to the original waterfall. Through the tinkling water, I can hear faint voices yelling. I jump back through.

Slam! I crash into Cole, who is just on the other side. His reflexes are quick and he manages to half catch me in his big arms, dragging me to the ground with him as I bowl him over.

The reaction I expect is, “Wow, what happened, what did you see?” It is stupid of me to expect that.

Cole is on his feet in a second, his face darkening even more than it already is. “Of all the stupid, childish things to do!” he roars, looming over me.

Of course, being me, I am shocked by the reaction and just stare at him, hoping that if I don’t move he won’t be able to see me or something.

I look around slowly and see that Tawni is hugging Elsey, who is crying, tears rolling over her lips. Then it dawns on me. They thought I was dead. I jumped through a mysterious waterfall, let out a scream, and then they didn’t hear anything from me. I hadn’t even thought to—or bothered to—yell back to them that I was okay.

“I was going to fall,” I say dumbly.

“Tawni was about to help me pull you back when you jumped.”

“Oh.”

“You scared your sister half to death. All of us, Adele.”

“Sorry,” I say weakly.

“Not good enough,” Cole says.

“Really sorry?” I say it like a question, which also is not good enough. “Look,” I continue quickly, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It was really, really stupid. Please forgive me. El?”

Elsey pulls herself away from Tawni and runs to me, throwing her arms around me and holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. By the time she releases me she is almost as wet as I am. “Of course I forgive you,” she says. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’ll never leave you,” I say.

“You will if you keep doing stupid things like that,” Cole grumbles.

His forgiveness will take longer to earn.

Tawni comes over and puts an arm around me. “Try to be more careful. We’re like family now.”

A wave of emotion wells up unexpectedly. I get choked up, literally trying to swallow her words down as they seem to get stuck a dozen times in my throat. I am teary-eyed, but not to the point of overflowing. It’s been so long since I’ve had any real friends and now I’ve grown closer to these two in just a couple of days. Wild, thrilling, scary, emotional days, yeah, but still only days.

I realize I love them both. Tawni for her good heart, logical mind, and overflowing compassion for others. Cole for his quiet strength, fierce loyalty, and righteous anger—I don’t even mind his temper.

This might sound cheesy, but all I want is to be close to my new family. I wave Cole over, and after a few seconds’ pause, he joins us in a group hug. I’ve never felt more loved in my life.

It only lasts about a minute—a glorious, beautiful minute—before Cole gets embarrassed. He releases us and says, “Uh, what was behind the water anyway?”

“A landing and then another waterfall,” I say.

“This has the makings of a comedy sketch,” he says, managing a slight grin. His face has returned to its normal dark color.

Note to self: group hugs diffuse tempers, I think.

I grin back. “Why don’t you and I go check it out?” When Cole gives me an I-don’t-think-so look, I quickly add, “No more insane leaps of faith, I promise! I just have a good feeling about where this might lead.” And I do. Something about it just feels right. Or at least more right than going back. Plus this tunnel will be safe for us. No one who actually knows their way around the Lonely Caverns would ever think to go down this particular tunnel.

“Fine,” Cole says grudgingly. “How far is the jump?”

“Maybe five feet,” I say.

Cole nods. “Ladies first. When you get across, move back and I’ll jump five seconds after you.”

Elsey looks worried so I give her an extra hug. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll never forget you,” she says dramatically.

“Yeah, you, too, El.”

I grab two waterproof flashlights, hand one to Cole, and then easily leap through the waterfall onto the landing. I flick on the flashlight and move back. A few seconds later Cole splashes through the liquid wall.

The light doesn’t reveal anything unexpected. We are in a tiny section of nondescript cave that, except for the waterfalls at either end, could have been anywhere in the caverns.

“How are we gonna test the next waterfall?” Cole says.

“Simple—we jump through,” I say.

“You said you were gonna be careful. That doesn’t sound careful.”

“I am going to be careful,” I say, smirking. “You’re going to try it first this time.”

Cole’s reaction confirms that he bought it. His eyes narrow, he looks at the ceiling, and he throws his hands over his head. It’s good to know he is gullible sometimes. “I’m just kidding, Cole. Temper, temper.”

His face softens and he even manages a smile. “Good one,” he admits. “So what’s the real plan?”

“Chuck a rock and listen for the sound.” Maybe it isn’t a much better plan, but it is still better.

Cole shrugs and pokes around along the side of the tunnel with his flashlight until he finds a decent-sized rock. “Should make plenty of noise,” he comments.

“Do it.”

Hefting it over his shoulder like a miner, he gets a running start and launches it into the waterfall. We both put our ears close to the streaming water, and are rewarded a second later when we hear the rock crack against something hard. The sound comes so quickly that it is unlikely the rock fell very far.

“Ladies first,” Cole says.

“Wuss.”

Cole suddenly scoops me up and makes like he’s going to throw me through the fall. Yeah—I scream. “No, no, no!”

He puts me down. “You looked really scared,” he says.

“Good one.”

Turning back to the waterfall, I get a running start and plow through it, leading with the waterproof flashlight. I emerge on the other side amidst a spray of water. Surprise, surprise. It is another mini-tunnel, with yet another waterfall at the end.

“C’mon through!” I yell.

Cole arrives and laughs when he sees the wall of water cascading down from the roof. “How much you wanna bet when we try to go back there’s always another waterfall?” he says.

The thought of being stuck in an endless cycle of waterfalls and sections of cave, coupled with the fact that I’m soaked to the skin, makes me shiver. “No bet, but I hope you’re wrong.”

The rock Cole threw is lying in front of us, slightly chipped but large enough to be effective again. It is heavy, but I manage to heft it with both hands, swinging it from side to side once and releasing it through the waterfall. A second later we hear the same telltale clatter.

“Same time?” Cole says, extending his hand.

Corny? Absolutely. But I’ve always wanted to do something like that, so I nod and grab his hand. We mouth a count to three and then jump through simultaneously. This time we are in for a surprise.

First of all, we don’t need our flashlights anymore. Dull light slides into the tunnel beyond us. There is another waterfall, but not like before. It isn’t a wall of water blocking our path. Instead, the tunnel ends in a small pool of water, which is fed from underground rivers pouring in on either bank. The pool overflows at the far side, dropping off into the cave where the light is coming from.

I glance at Cole and then we walk forward, perfectly synchronized. (No, we aren’t still holding hands at this point, I’m not that corny.) Without talking about it, we wade straight into the water. It rises above my waist to my belly button, whereas for Cole it only gets to his hips.

We reach the end of the pool, where the water tumbles over the edge. My heart stops and I gasp. Spectacular! is the word that comes to mind when I see the view. We are on the edge of a cliff, looking out upon a moon dweller city. Like most man-made moon dweller cities, thick stone beams rise high above the buildings, from floor to roof, protecting against major cave-ins.

Around the edge of the cliff, numerous waterfalls pour out into a massive reservoir that runs along the edge of the cavern. Each waterfall is different, but equally magnificent. Some are thin, high streams, skimming the edge of the cliff and cascading down in an unpredictable liquid spray, while others are thick, powerful falls, exploding in a thunderous display of power and beauty. And there is everything in between, too.

Our particular waterfall is of average height compared to the others, but still rises at least fifty feet in the air. By peering over the edge we can see that we’re on a rock overhang, which allows the water to pour into the reservoir unobstructed. Although I’m not really afraid of heights, I pull back from the edge, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Damn,” Cole says. “The good news: we’ve made it to the sixteenth subchapter, also known as Waterfall Cave. The bad news: there’s no way down.”

“Except to jump,” I say.

“If you’re crazy.”

I’m not any more keen to launch myself down a waterfall than Cole is, but it does make sense, in a twisted logic sort of way. “We’ve got to get into the sixteenth subchapter, right?” Cole nods, biting back a response. “So, if we find another tunnel that leads there, an easier one, it will likely end at a travel checkpoint and we’ll have to show our papers. We don’t have any papers, Cole. Plus, our faces are all over the news. We’ll be recognized and apprehended immediately. Our only choice is to do something a bit crazy.”

Cole looks over the edge again, biting on his lip as he considers my proposal.

The dull light is coming from the city’s overhead cavern lights. The brightness is about normal for daytime in the Moon Realm, so it might be anytime between ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. “We’ll wait until it starts to get dark so we won’t be seen. It’s a reservoir, Cole, I’m sure it’s deep enough.”

At that moment Tawni and Elsey splash into the tunnel, panic written all over their faces.

Chapter Sixteen

Tristan

We awake to a piercing shriek that echoes through the caves. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. It is becoming a bit of a bad habit for me.

“What…was…that?” Roc says from beside me.

“I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” I say. I try to sit up but find it is impossible. My arms are tied to my sides, my feet together. It feels like I’m in a straitjacket.

“Oh God,” Roc says. “What now?”

We hear another piercing scream and then a high-pitched frantic cackling. The cackling continues for a bit, sometimes rising in volume and other times lessening. It makes it hard to tell where and how far away it is coming from.

“What do we do?” Roc says.

“Wait,” I say. We don’t have much of a choice. We’re laying in the dark, bound as tight as a caterpillar in a cocoon, with no idea where we are. Waiting seems like the only option. “Do you remember what happened?” I ask.

“All I remember is the ground dropping away and then sliding a bit. Then everything went black.”

“Yeah, me, too.” This is not good. We’ve successfully managed to escape one captor, only to find ourselves at the mercy of another. One that might be much less likely to give us food and water.

“Let us go!” Roc screams suddenly, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Bloody hell, Roc. What was that?”

“Sorry. I’ve been awake for a while, trying to get you to wake up, too. I guess I’m going a little stir crazy.”

“Ya think?”

“Are my delectable delights ready for tasting?” a shaky woman’s voice calls from somewhere. More cackling.

Now I know we are in real trouble. Whoever this lady is, she’s madder than a wingless bat. “Roll,” I hiss, turning over and forcing my body to move toward Roc’s voice. I bang into him before he has a chance to get going. He finally gets the hint. Two revolutions, three. Four, five, six. As I come out of my sixth spin, I’m blinded by a light shining directly in my eyes.

“Hee hee hee! Are my scrumptious scamperers scampering again?” the woman’s voice says from right next to me.

When she shifts the light into Roc’s eyes I get a glimpse of her face. I’m not usually one to judge based on appearance, but this woman is hideous. Her head is mostly bald, with only a few wisps of gray hair protruding from her scalp. She has no eyebrows and a bit of dark stubble on her chin. Her nose is long, overhanging and casting a shadow on her thin white lips. Her blue eyes might be pretty were they not on her face and filled with madness.

“My palettable pretties are awake!” she exclaims, showing off a mouth with only a handful of teeth, perhaps seven or eight total. Her red tongue looks abnormally long, like a serpent’s, glossing over her teeth and lips.

Ignoring us once again, the woman busies herself with something that we can’t see.

“We shouldn’t even be here,” Roc says, a bit of anger entering his voice. It is unexpected. I’d expect him to sound scared, or at least worried, but no, he sounds angry.

“If you have something to say, Roc, just say it,” I say. Now isn’t the time to pick a fight, but I want to know what’s on Roc’s mind.

“We’re chasing after a girl you’ve never even said two words to,” he spits out.

“Wrong, Roc. I’ve said exactly two words to her,” I snap back, my temperature level rising.

“I don’t think Adele! and Run! count as having spoken to her,” Roc says bitterly, imitating my voice, but making it sound nasally and girly.

“I didn’t make you come!” I growl.

He doesn’t have a response to that, so we both lie in silence, which is worse than arguing, because the old woman is talking to herself. In between speaking to us, she is saying things like, “A finger for breakfast, a hand for lunch, an ear for dinner, munch, munch, munch!”

That’s when I realize what she is doing: preparing a fire. And above it is a spit, constructed with a pile of rocks on either end and a metal bar across them. It is about the length of a human, I think.

Roc and I realize it at the same time. “She’s going to freakin’ eat us, Tristan!” Roc hisses, temporarily forgetting his beef with me.

We can see the flames from the fire casting shadows on the cave walls, and smell the smoke as it blusters off the growing fire.

Suddenly, anger courses through my veins, pumping fresh blood to my extremities. How dare Roc question my feelings for Adele? How does he know what I am feeling or what it can motivate me to do? And how dare this cannibalistic woman eat us when I haven’t even had a chance to meet Adele, to see if she feels anything for me, too, or if it is just in my head as Roc so ruthlessly suggested?

Pure determination floods my body for the first time in my life. It is out of my control, my actions those of my body, not my mind.

I spin hard, rolling right at the woman, whose back is still to us. I collide hard with her ankles, tripping her backwards over me. I keep rolling…right into the fire. Like I said: it is my body doing the thinking, not my mind. It isn’t a great plan, but it’s all I have.

I feel the heat from the flames licking at my torso, trying to penetrate the thick nest of ropes around me, tear through my clothes, scorch my skin. The fire is a cannibal, too. Luckily, the fire is still small enough that my head and legs are outside of its range, although the smoke is choking me. I hold my breath and wait two seconds, three.

When the heat becomes unbearable and I’m sure the ropes must be on fire, I spin backwards and out of the fire. The old woman has staggered to her feet and I collide with her again, once more knocking her over. This time she falls in a heap on top of me, her face coming to rest right in front of my own. Her breath stinks and I can feel her bony knees and elbows poking into my ribs and legs.

“You filthy brat!” she screams, nearly bursting my eardrums and sending a splattering of spit into my eyes.

I can still feel the heat of the flames as they bite at my ropes. I hope the tethers are sufficiently weakened by the fire. They have to be.

I headbutt the woman right between the eyes, causing her to emit a shriek that should only belong to dark demons from the realm from which nightmares are born. She flops to the side and away from me.

Using every last ounce of strength I can muster, I strain at the bindings, trying to break them. Evidently I lingered in the fire longer than I thought—longer than I probably should have. The ropes break away easily, black and brittle from the flames, which are finally dying.

Scrambling to my feet, I pull away the remaining strands and search for my sword. The old woman is writhing on the cave floor, shrieking and shouting obscenities, clutching at her face. I find the swords crossed on the ground near Roc, next to our pack.

It’s as if I’ve never used my hands before—I’m unable to control them. They are trembling badly and it takes me more than a minute just to get a grip on my sword. Under normal conditions, cutting the ropes away from Roc would be a simple task, but I feel so shaky I’m afraid I might accidentally amputate an arm or a leg.

“Deep breaths,” Roc says, making me realize that I’m breathing in short, ragged huffs. I’m sure my face is wild, probably more crazy-looking than the old woman trying to cook us alive.

I take a deep breath. Then another. It helps. My hands stop shaking, my breathing returns to normal. “Thanks,” I say.

After cutting Roc’s hands free, I hand him the sword, letting him finish the job. The woman has grown surprisingly silent, lying motionless in a heap. When Roc is free, he hands me my sword, which I sheath, retrieves his own sword, and then shoulders the pack.

We’re about to leave when the woman suddenly screams, leaps to her feet with a speed and quickness that is almost supernatural, and charges us, her hands outstretched and curled into clawed hooks.

I scream, and Roc screams even louder, but more high pitched and girly. I’m getting pretty sick of the old woman’s antics, and am too tired to consider that she might still be dangerous, which is probably a good thing.

I push her. Hard. Right at the fire. She stumbles and falls into the flames, wailing the whole time. We don’t wait to see what will happen to her. Perhaps she is invulnerable to fire, able to sit in it like a warm bath. Or worse, maybe fire gives her strength, recharging her powers.

We run into the darkness, which becomes deeper as we get further from the fire. The space narrows and forms a tunnel, and soon we are running blind, yet again. Roc manages to get a light out of our pack and flick it on.

We should have kept running in the dark. The images that flash into view will forever haunt me, burned into my memory till the day I die.

Skeletons: some fully intact and leaning against the wall; others broken and mangled, scattered on the floor; yet others mounted on the walls like trophies—here a skull, there a foot. It doesn’t take a genius to know they didn’t die from natural causes, that their flesh has been bitten off by ragged teeth.

If I hadn’t had so little to eat in the last couple of days I would throw up all over myself. Instead, I dry-heave, as my stomach pulses repeatedly, in an attempt to upchuck anything that is left in it. Roc is doing the same, bent over his knees, convulsing.