The plants at the edge of the fiery lake spontaneously burst into flames. Zania stared in horror as powerless citizens fell into the inferno. Two slender young men held onto an antigravity plate when the ground fell under them. The plate hovered over the liquid fire and they dangled there for a few seconds as their clothes ignited. Then the plate upended and dropped, throwing the two screaming young men into the fiery magma. The advance of the broadening rift, however had slowed.
"Hurry!" Zania yelled to those still able to outrun the expanding chasm.
When she stopped to glance back again, the rift had ceased its expansion, but she couldn’t believe the magnitude of the depression. It formed an elongated lake, ten kliks long and at least one click wide, white hot and shimmering, searing the morning mist.
Realizing the worst danger had passed, the citizens halted and turned to look. Zania set down the child she’d carried. He sobbed, looking for his parents, but couldn’t find them. No trace remained of those the lava had claimed, their voices quieted forever. Only the trembling survivors gazing upon the glowing lake bore witness that they’d ever existed.
Zania surveyed the remaining members of the expedition. Bewildered and panting, citizens dropped to the ground, trying to catch a breath. Many sobbed. Others held their head in their hands. Mothers clutched their children. Amazons, Vikings and Centurions stared at the monstrous lake, their gaze vacant, uncomprehending.
About half the number that had left camp at dawn had survived. Less than fifteen hundred left... The warriors, fit and prepared, had fared better, but very few children remained.
A great sorrow filled Zania’s chest. So much death and destruction.
Gray cleared his throat. "We have to move on," he yelled with conviction. "Regroup, and salvage the antigravity plates we have left."
Zania counted only a few of those, and they stood empty. But they would still come in handy to carry the children and whatever provisions they could gather on the long march. The warriors would have to slow down to hunt and pick fruit, nuts, tubers and other edible plants.
What had happened to the shuttles? Why hadn’t they returned as planned? Most of these people didn’t have the stamina to go the distance. The outcome of the expedition looked grim.
Gray paced in front of the survivors. "We can still reach our destination," he declared with conviction. As a former citizen, he spoke their language and didn’t need a translator. "The worst is over. All we have to do is circle the lake of lava and find the old road on the other side."
The exhausted survivors murmured their assent. Apparently, they trusted Gray. After all, they had come this far in spite of the odds. But the detour constituted at least an extra twenty clicks through the thickest part of the jungle.
The traders remained neutral. Zania couldn’t help but notice that the rebellious group had survived. Walking at the end of the column had given them the advantage this time. Unfortunately, many of the young and strong able bodies at the front of the caravan had perished.
Zania helped set the whimpering children on one of the remaining antigravity plates. So few children... As one child clung to her neck, she realized she’d lost her necklace during the race. She’d make another one. There would be more tigers to kill...
Gray took the head of the depleted column with his mate and the red-haired Viking. Zania followed closely as they resumed the march, cutting a new path through the dense forest.
She struggled not to limp, but the pain in her leg flared as if it were on fire. Fresh blood soaked the bandage and dripped into her boots, making a squishy sound as she walked. Her wound had reopened. Zania ignored it. She couldn’t show weakness, and she wouldn’t halt the march for her personal needs.
After the adrenalin rush wore off, Zania felt fatigued. Was it from loss of blood? The mere effort of setting one foot in front of the other sapped her energy. As she struggled to keep up with the wandering line of frightened refugees, Zania had a moment of exhausted clarity.
She realized with a start that she had abandoned Svend. How could she, even drugged, leave him behind? What if he were alive? Guilt gnawed at her entrails and squeezed her heart.
Zania stumbled and fell to her knees, overcome by spasms, and the unbearable pain of abandoning him. The cry that wrenched her throat didn’t sound human. Overwhelmed by sobs, blinded by tears, she collapsed, unable to go further.
A chatter of concerned voices surrounded Zania. Amazons flocked to support her. She felt the prick of a needle in her arm, then drowsiness claimed her. Zania went limp, unable to get up or fight back. The two familiar Amazons, the tiny Asian girl and the tall stocky one, lifted her and laid her upon a nearby antigravity plate. Then Zania fell into troubled sleep. Svend!
Chapter Nineteen
Svend awoke, shivering, as thunder cracked and lightning split the dark gray sky. Where was he? Had he died and reached Valhalla? This desolate landscape didn’t look like a warrior's paradise. He saw no Valkyrie on a white horse carrying him to Thor's heaven.
As his mind cleared, Svend vaguely remembered freeing himself from the fallen tree as sparks flew from the very trunk that trapped him. Then he’d crawled over burnt brush, sharp rocks and crispy rodents, sliding downhill, toward the relative safety of a shimmering river.
Thor be thanked, Svend was in hell but still alive. Would the tropical rain soon douse the fire still raging in the distance? A flash of lightning revealed a forest of smoldering bare trunks standing like ghosts. Gusts of wind dissipated the smoke but lifted clouds of ash. The stench of charred wood and burnt flesh overpowered his sensitive nose.
Svend surveyed the water’s edge a few paces away. He hoped the carnivorous reptiles and amphibians populating the river had been swept downstream. Svend had never seen a crocodile, but he’d heard enough stories to scare the bravest of men. He detected no animal sounds.
When he attempted to sit up, he cried out in pain. Broken ribs poked his lungs. He couldn’t move his left leg under penalty of passing out from the agony. Struggling to raise himself on both elbows to evaluate the damage to his body, he realized he couldn’t keep the position.
Crawling was too painful, so he rolled toward a small boulder at the water’s edge then propped his back against it. The cracked ribs made the simple act of breathing painful and difficult. After setting aside his axe and daggers, Svend peeled off his clothes, painfully, with the greatest of care.
As he beheld his naked body, most of it was badly bruised, but he rejoiced at the fact that the leather britches and boots had provided protection from major lacerations and burns. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t lost much blood.
His left lower leg, however, looked badly crushed and misshapen. The broken shin stuck up and made a swollen bump under the bruised skin. At the very idea of setting the bone straight so it could heal properly, a wave of nausea overcame him. But Svend had to do it before it was too late.
His broken ribs stabbed his lungs with every shallow breath. Unable to provide a sustained effort, he’d have to work in stages. Clenching his jaws with determination, Svend reached for the fractured shin, aimed his fist, then pounded on it to push it back in.
A scream escaped his clenched teeth, as much from the jab in his chest as from the broken leg, but the shin bone receded a little. Svend had to catch his breath before the next attempt. Sweat drizzled from his brow. This slow process would prove agonizing. After each pounding, he caught his foot on a root and pulled on his leg to help the bone straighten.
After the fifth pounding, Svend palpated the bone. Through the skin and swollen muscle, he could feel the broken ends joining. They seemed to fit together straight in proper alignment.
Now, he’d have to immobilize that leg. He would also have to clean the deep scrapes on his chest, lest they get infected.
Svend wished for a bath and considered the lapping edge of the river. The wide stream, black with mud, had a rapid current and ran thick with broken branches. Unsafe and unclean.
Thor
in His bounty answered Svend’s wish when lightning and thunder dropped a squall of clean water from the sky. Taking advantage of the thundershower, Svend rinsed away the grit, ash and soot from his face and hair. Then he cleansed his superficial wounds as best he could.
Around him, under the downpour, the black residue from the fire melted into gray sludge that washed into the river, as if under the spell of a receding wave. Nature cleansed its own wounds. Soon the storm abated and the forest of black spikes sparkled in the rays of the morning sun. The fresh smell of rain filled the air, but no bird sang to welcome the new day.
Svend spread his clothes on the boulder, to dry. In order to keep up his strength, he had to feed himself, but how could he hunt if he couldn’t walk? Besides, all the game had fled. And he saw no edible fruit amidst the charred vegetation.
Digging the soft silt of the bank with his fingers, Svend unearthed a handful of red, squirming worms. He pulled them out, washed them in the river, then resolutely chewed the viscous creatures. Ignoring their writhing, he resisted the urge to retch. If birds could survive on worms, so could he.
Then Svend noticed large crispy bugs upturned on the bank, washed clean by the rain. He reached for one of them. At least those were cooked. He ate the crunchy morsels with stern resolve. If he wanted to see Zania again, he must survive at all cost.
But Svend had to move on and find Zania and the rest of the caravan. Time was his enemy. The longer he dallied, the lesser his chances of finding their tracks. The tropical forest had a way of claiming back the trails quickly, especially after the rain.
At least Svend was safe from wild life for now. The animals had perished or fled. And in case of attack, he still had his weapons to fight back.
Propped against the rock, facing the morning sun, Svend enjoyed the heat on his bare skin. He needed to think and considered his surroundings. Only tree skeletons remained, leaving the ground strewn with half burned branches.
The idea of carving wood when the slightest move brought excruciating pain didn’t sound alluring, but Svend would have to do it. He needed a wooden splint, and a pair of crutches.
*****
As she slept, unable to move or speak, fed by regular injections that kept her in a permanent state of somnolence, Zania lost track of time. Lying on the antigravity plate, she had nightmares and vaguely remembered thunder and lightning. She felt cold, pouring rain drenching her. She remembered the two dedicated Amazons covering her with a blanket.
Had it been day or night? She couldn’t recall. Somewhere in her hazy awareness, she thought of Svend, comforting her in the freedom cave after their escape from the bunker. Where was he?
When the doctor finally weaned her off the sedatives, Zania gradually returned to a more conscious state, but she still felt weak and suspected the doctor gave her strong muscle relaxants to prevent her from getting up. The medicine in her veins nauseated her. Zania wanted to retch, although she’d not taken food.
The two faithful Amazons, the Asian girl was Kwan and the tall one Iva, watched over her, giving her the attention reserved for a queen. That surprised Zania. Why didn’t they kill her and take her place? Could the Amazons possibly like her? Why?
With time to think on her floating plate, Zania understood that Gray had ordered her sedation. In a logical world, it would be the right choice to save those who could be saved and abandon the least likely to survive. Zania had done it many times. But she could never forgive Gray for keeping her away from Svend.
By the time she felt strong enough to stand up, her thigh had almost healed. When she stepped off the antigravity plate, helped by Kwan and Iva, Zania realized she could walk with only the smallest of twinge in the tender scar tissue in the back of her thigh.
Zania wanted to go back for Svend, but too many days had passed. If Svend still lived, he would have found a way to rejoin the caravan. The fact that he didn’t catch up with the group only meant that he had perished in the fire. Still, Zania couldn’t accept that truth. Against all odds, she clung to hope.
Besides, she had a duty to the citizens of Dagora. They still had a long way to go to reach the relative safety of their new settlement. They needed hunters to feed them, warriors to protect them. And apparently, the Amazons wanted Zania as their queen.
That day, Zania joined the front line, clearing the path. Using Dakini’s labrys, she hacked at the brush, branches and dangling vines. Although she quickly grew winded, it felt good to be physical again after all those days of inactivity.
But Zania couldn’t look in Gray’s direction. She couldn’t forget, and even less forgive. Forever she would hold him responsible for abandoning Svend. Thinking about it, given a choice, she’d have preferred to die by his side than live without him.
As the hours passed, the lonely silence left too much time to reminisce. Zania longed for Svend. She also missed Morrigan’s light chatter. She moved closer to Raven, the older Amazon with black hair streaked with gray, who had welcomed Zania into the Freedom Tribe after her escape.
"What did I miss? Did the volcano give you further trouble?"
"Some..." Raven smiled warmly. "But nothing like what we encountered on the first days. At least, the earthquakes have stopped."
"How long was I out? I see we are back on the old road." The broken chunks of flat stone and gravel underfoot attested to that.
"It took us three days to circle the lake of magma." Raven gazed into Zania’s eyes. "You remained numb to the world for about ten days."
"That long?" No wonder her wound had healed. "Any encounters with wild beasts?" Zania imagined the animals would be hungry and scared.
"Not this close to the volcano. But as we move away, we’ll encounter more predators."
Zania nodded. Predator was a euphemism for tiger. "And the traders?" She couldn’t help the edge in her voice. "By Aries, these should have fallen victim to the lava lake."
Raven snorted. "I couldn’t agree more! But they are still alive and under scrutiny. They seem a little more appreciative of our survival skills. They understand they can’t make it without us. They shouldn’t give us anymore trouble."
"I wouldn’t count on it." Zania doubted that the traders would ever give up. "I don’t trust them. They’ll probably bide their time, waiting for the next opportunity to take control." But Zania would be watching.
*****
During a rest stop in a clearing, a dull silvery craft in the shape of a triangle appeared in the sky. Zania rejoiced as the shuttle slowly came down, amidst the happy cries of exhausted citizens. About time.
Gray motioned to Zania, Red the Viking, and the new Centurion leader. Together, they walked toward the descending craft and lined up like a welcoming committee. The shuttle hovered above the ground, emitting a low vibration. Nothing moved behind the row of port holes. When the single door near the cockpit opened, it flipped down to provide four steps to the ground.
A young pilot appeared in the opening, clean shaven, in a gray flight suit. Ignoring the steps, he jumped down, smiling apologetically. "Sorry for the delay. This is our last shuttle out of twenty."
"The last?" Gray stepped forward and gripped the man’s arm in a strong handshake.
Zania shared Gray’s concern. "What happened?"
The pilot grimaced. "We were too close to the volcano when it blew. Somehow, even contained, the explosion fried our computers. Probably an electromagnetic pulse."
Gray cleared his throat. "That explains why we lost communication." He laid a hand on the pilot’s shoulder and led him toward a rock on which to sit.
The pilot removed his gloves and sat. "We weren’t able to restart the other shuttles and had to ferry all our marooned passengers with this one."
Gray and the other leaders sat in a circle. A few warriors joined them.
Zania sat on a rock opposite the pilot. "You took your sweet time." She immediately regretted the sarcasm in her tone.
"Well..." The pilot looked down at his gloves, as if embarrassed. "When thi
s shuttle broke down again, we made whatever repairs we could. I don’t know how long it will hold. This could be our last trip. The computer is badly damaged."
"Only one shuttle... That will not be enough." Zania realized it would not allow her to search for Svend, but she managed to hide her dismay. It couldn’t be helped.
Gray sighed. "At least we can evacuate the wounded. You have a doctor in the old abandoned city?"
The pilot nodded. "And medical supplies." He looked exhausted, with deep circles under his eyes. Probably hadn’t slept in days.
Gray shifted is bulky frame. "How are things in Amadir by the Sea?"
"Not good." The pilot slid open the zipper of his flight suit and fanned his sweaty chest. "The rations and drinking water are diminishing, and the broken walls of the ruined city offer little shelter from the encroaching jungle."
"That bad?" Zania wanted to know what to expect at the end of the grueling journey.
"Worse." The pilot wiped the perspiration from his brow with his gloves. "The buildings have crumbled and we stretched canvas over the missing roofs. A flimsy protection against the tigers that prowl the streets at night. Anacondas have already claimed two lives. Trapped between the jungle, the river, and the ocean, we are easy prey."
"Have you tried fishing?" Red made the gesture of throwing a spear at a fish.
"Too many sharks in the ocean."
Red laughed. "Sharks are good to eat, too."
"We don’t have boats or nets, or strong people to do the job. The river is a sea of weeds infested with crocodiles. We desperately need able hands."
At an unusual clicking sound, Zania glanced toward the shuttle and caught a flickering of movement inside. The traders! Through the open hatch, she recognized Coal giving orders to one of the traders who already sat in the pilot seat.
Pulling her dagger, Zania threw it with all speed and force. The blade whistled and impacted Coal’s chest. Words died on his lips. A horrified expression widened his dark eyes as he spotted Zania, then he stumbled and fell off the open shuttle, rolling down the four steps before landing in the grass.
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