The Lava Tube

"Run," Maya yelled.

She didn't wait for stealth. She grabbed Kenji’s arm and hauled him up.

They bolted in the opposite direction, plunging deeper into the Sea of Trees.

Behind them, a roar erupted—a guttural, animalistic sound that had no language in it. The Wolf was giving chase.

"Head for the depression!" Maya shouted, pointing toward a dip in the terrain. "There’s a cave system!"

"Caves are bad!" Kenji yelled back, his lungs burning. "We need high ground!"

"He knows the high ground!"

They scrambled over the uneven floor. Kenji tripped, his shin slamming into a rock, but he kept moving. The adrenaline was a cold fire in his veins. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the killer behind them, gaining ground. The man knew the terrain. He wasn't tripping. He was flowing.

"Left!" Maya screamed.

She banked hard around a massive cedar tree. Kenji followed.

Suddenly, the ground vanished.

It wasn't a cave entrance; it was a collapse. A thin crust of moss and soil had grown over a vertical shaft leading down into a lava tube.

Maya, in the lead, hit the false floor. She screamed as she fell.

Kenji tried to stop, skidding on the wet leaves. He grabbed for a branch, missed, and tumbled into the hole after her.

He hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact. It was a fifteen-foot drop. He landed on a pile of debris—leaves, dirt, and bones.

"Maya!"

He scrambled to his feet, clicking on his flashlight. The beam cut through the dust.

Maya was lying a few feet away, curled in a ball. She was clutching her right leg.

Kenji rushed to her. "Maya, let me see."

"It’s broken," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I heard it snap."

Kenji looked. Her lower leg was bent at a sickening angle just above the boot. The bone hadn't broken the skin, but the swelling was already starting.

"Okay," Kenji said, his voice trembling. "Okay. Shock is the enemy. We need to stabilize it."

He looked up at the hole they had fallen through. A circle of grey light far above.

A face appeared in the circle.

The Wolf looked down at them. In the flashlight beam, Kenji saw his face clearly for the first time. It was a mask of madness—sunken eyes, a beard matted with food and dirt. He smiled, revealing teeth filed to points.

"Tourists," the Wolf rasped. His voice sounded like grinding stones.

He didn't jump down. He knew better.

Instead, he stepped back. A moment later, a burning branch dropped through the hole. Then another. And another.

He was throwing fire down into the pit.

The dry leaves at the bottom of the shaft began to smolder.

"He’s smoking us out," Kenji realized. "He’s going to suffocate us."