from her chest, vibrating. As she set her hand down, a snake slithered over it—fat and heavy— and she cried out, turning her head, sliding her hand from beneath its body and hurtling forward. She pressed her lips together and shut her eyes, waiting for the whip-quick strike, the sharp bite of fangs embedding in her skin. She heard another snake, two, three, maybe more, slithering away as she moved past them, her hands and knees pounding over the rocks, the clink of stone against stone echoing around her, her own heartbeat hammering in her head.
She lunged forward, her palms slipping on the sludge beneath her, something jagged slicing into her wrist as she caught herself.
Something furry brushed past her ankle as she moved and she let out a small, panicked gasp, kicking backward, bile filling her throat. She almost heaved, but held it back, continuing forward, not stopping.
The darkness was absolute, so all-consuming that monsters swelled up from the emptiness before her, causing her to whimper and draw back in terror, her muscles going rigid. They were worse, so much worse than rats or snakes. They would rip her apart slowly, chewing her flesh, there in the blackness where her screams could not be heard. She was going to die alone.
Stop!
That’s just your mind playing tricks on you. There are no monsters here. Picture Reed. Hold his face before you. Clutch to that.
A breath shuddered from Liza and she continued forward. If the end is sealed, I’ll have to turn back and make this trip again. Fear pommeled her chest, a drumbeat of dread. It was unthinkable, it was—no! Picture Reed. Only him.
One hand forward then the other, each inch closer, closer.
A gray light emerged from the gloom and Liza let out a disbelieving sob of joy, of hope, crawling faster, not caring about the wounds on her palms. An explosion of rodents skittered all around her suddenly, as she disrupted a nest. Liza threw her body forward, as the creatures shrieked and brushed past her in the darkness, their sharp nails ripping open her exposed skin. Small bodies crunched beneath her knees and her palm landed on one, the rodent emitting a death wail that quickly ended as its body squished beneath the impact. One latched onto her hip and she reached around, tearing it off and throwing it against the side of the tunnel, it’s body smacking wetly against the stone. Liza shook her head back and forth, humming a garbled sound of fear and disgust and horror as she raced closer to that muted circle of gray.
Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.
She smelled river water, the scent of plants and foliage and mud, crawling so fast, her arm went out from under her and her chin slammed into the floor of the tunnel. She groaned, lifting her head, and continuing forward until the muted glow grew bigger and bigger, the sound of the skittering creatures dissipating. She felt air on her face, and her relief was so intense that she began sobbing again, her head emerging from that dark hole into the sweet night air. There was ground beneath her and she spilled out onto it, taking only seconds to lay there, sobs wracking her body as she fisted the blessed mud under her palms.
Liza pulled herself to her feet. The river dropped off sharply to her right, the only path uphill was through the woods. More darkness. You can do it.
Yes. I can.
Liza stepped back into the darkness and she didn’t just walk. Liza ran, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she struggled for purchase, slipping in the mud, going down on her knees, pulling herself up. The earth grew less slippery the farther she went, as dead leaves and dry grass covered that higher ground. Liza’s muscles burned as she ran straight uphill, as fast as her body would allow, grunting with the extreme effort. Branches and foliage brushed past her, surprisingly gentle, feeling like the hands of those who may have made this trip before her, encouraging, guiding her forward. Go, go. There’s so little time.
It was the journey of a warrior. It was the passage of a woman whose heart was so filled with love that it billowed over and suffocated all those other voices, the ones who’d told her she was weak and without power. The ones who’d deemed her unlovable. Soiled. Ruined.
She was not ruined. She was not.
There was light ahead, she could see it through the thick brush and she raced toward it,