James Axler – The Mars Arena

With greater width and breadth, the raft acted like a kite caught in a strong wind, moving ahead of the rest of the companions quickly.

The bubble of light surrounding Jak faded with the distance, but held long enough to show the underwater exit for the river. Ryan watched the raft and Jake slide into the huge hole, then they disappeared.

He let himself go, riding out the current, remembering how the rest of the companions had been spaced out around him, all of them caught up in the river. The current pulled him deeper still, and even colder water ran rampant there, an ice wall that slammed him through the outlet. His left hand slapped into the edge of the opening with enough force to create a blaze of pain, followed almost immediately by numbness.

The water picked up speed, shooting him forward with greater intensity. He covered his head with his arms, hoping that he didn’t go up against the tunnel’s side. The impact would probably be enough to kill him. It would probably also be enough to kill any of the others. But they were all out of choices, and the ace was on the line.

GAZING THROUGH his binoculars, Hayden LeMarck watched the brushwooders walk away from the chimney rock. None of the outlanders appeared to be in their midst.

“Mebbe they got away,” Wallis Thoroughgood said. “Even if they’d killed the outlanders, the brushwooders probably would have brought out the corpses.”

LeMarck studied the brushwooders. All of them looked haggard and worn. None of them had any of the outlanders’ weapons, giving him even more reason to believe the group had managed another escape. That possibility, however, was also daunting because this final escape might have taken them from him, as well.

“Don’t appear to be as many of them as there was,” the sec commander said.

“Three, four,” Thoroughgood replied, “mebbe five of them are missing. Probably means they ran into the outlanders somewhere up in those rocks.”

“And the outlanders got away.” LeMarck dropped the binoculars into his pack. “Renstell, given that there’s a point of entry to the river in those rocks, where do you figure they’d come out topside again?”

Renstell narrowed his eyes against the sun as he looked out across the broken landscape. “Four or five miles away. But they’d be fools to try that river now, sir.”

“Why?”

“That blizzard last night, come this morning with the sun melting it all down the way it did, that river’s gonna be raging. There’re places in the tunnels where the river goes that fill up sudden when a man least expects it. They went into it, there’s every chance they’re going to drown like rats before they get through it.”

The sec boss watched the brushwooders making their way across the land almost three hundred yards away. He wished he knew what was going on inside, hoping that Renstell was wrong about the outlanders’ drowning.

LIGHT PENETRATED the water above Ryan’s head. Weakened from lack of oxygen, battered by the river current and the stone channel it rushed through, he forced his body to work. He stroked for the surface, kicking as strong as he was able.

Long seconds later, stubbornly refusing to give in to the need to breathe, his head came up out of the water. He allowed himself two breaths, swiveling around to get his bearings.

The river was quieter here, but continued to exert a steady pull. It was also much wider, sixty or seventy feet at least. But it was still contained in a cavern. Stalactites lined the uneven rooftop nearly twenty feet above. Cracks opened the dome in places, allowing thin streamers of yellow light to pour in and give the cave a semblance of twilight at best.

He took another deep breath, then plunged under the water, angling down. There was enough light to see a few yards in all directions. Fish darted past him, some no longer than one of his fingers, and others greater than the length of his arms. Even though chilled by the cold river water, he still felt an arctic kiss thrill along his nape as he thought about what might be in the river with him.