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I no longer knew who I was or what I’d become down there.
But I knew that scream.
Every part of my soul recognised it just as I’d recognised her that first night.
Different.
Familiar.
Mine.
I tripped and almost fell over a fallen tree.
My bare feet found every sharp stick and agonising debris.
I ran on dregs.
I powered on fumes.
But I didn’t stop.
The scream came again, followed by two others.
Fuck!
I raced faster, climbing the hill and cutting to the left toward the cliffs.
Birds chattered in the trees.
Clouds clotted as night quickly fell.
Exhaustion didn’t touch how I truly felt.
My endurance had peaked an hour or so ago as I’d swam out of the caves, fighting the tide and fearing I’d drown. I’d made it just before a heavy wave slipped through the crack and prevented any others from exiting.
No more blowholes or rockpools.
The beach and its sea glass sand were gone.
I’d swum to the treeline and hauled myself out of the sea.
And then, I’d started to climb.
I’d left Charles’ paintball gun behind.
I’d lost the axe when I’d gotten trapped in a dead end—
Another scream.
This one cut short with a heart-ripping gurgle.
The trees thinned; the ground opened wide.
I almost fell into an open-top cave.
Skidding to a stop, I grabbed a gnarly branch for balance and peered down.
Someone had rested a cellphone against a boulder, shining its torch at a corner of the cave and casting huge shadows on the walls. He loomed over his prey, looking like a twelve-foot-high demon.
