Back in our cave, at night, we all sit around the fire, completely exhausted. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes, and don't think I can ever open them again. Every bone in my body is aching and hurting. I can't believe what my body has been through these last two days. If someone told me I could fall asleep and wake up in twenty years, I think I would.

I just want this agony and suffering to end - not just for me, but for all of us. We are fighting for our lives, clinging to life, but a part of me wonders, what for? This will only end in all of us being killed. In some ways, we are just prolonging our agony.

I look around and see the exhausted faces of Bree and Charlie, Ben and Logan - and even Flo. It especially breaks my heart to see Logan, lying there beside me, looking like this. He was hurt the worst today of us all, and while I've been trying to staunch his new wound, it's barely working. He's lost a lot of blood, and he looks so pale, it's almost as if he's dead already. I've tried to wake him several times, but he just groans and turns away. My heart sinks, and I fear for him. If he doesn't get serious medical attention soon, I don't see how he can survive. Not to mention, it's just not possible for him to compete in tomorrow's games. I can't help but feel as if I'm sitting on a death vigil.

The rest of us hardly fare much better. We are all so beaten and broken and bruised and exhausted, not to mention, filled with dread for what might come tomorrow. Flo was right: they do up the stakes each day. I can't imagine how they can possibly up them again tomorrow. I feel certain that tomorrow will be our last day.

A buzzer sounds, the ceiling opens, and this time they lower twelve baskets, these overflowing with food and goodies. While yesterday we all jumped up for them, now, we all look at each other, all too broken to jump up and get them.

Eventually, we struggle to our feet and march across the room. My legs feel like a thousand pounds each as I pick up my two baskets, along with Logan's, and the others pick up theirs. We bring them back to the fire.

I am thrilled to see it is filled with goodies, foods, snacks and candies of all kinds. I can't believe that the slaverunners have managed to find and keep such an abundance of good food in this day and age, with the rest of the world starving. The thought of it makes me sick: they have so much while others have so little.

While yesterday I devoured my food, today I move more slowly, as do the others. A part of me has lost my appetite. I open one candy bar and take a bite; it is delicious, and I revel in the sugar rush. But I don't have the excitement of the day before.

I unwrap Logan's candy bar and put it in his mouth, trying to get him to take a bite. But he won't. I feel his forehead, how hot his fever has become, and grow increasingly worried. I wish there was something I could do.

"Logan," I say softly. "You have to eat. Please."

Eyes closed, he shakes his head in agony. Eventually, he opens his eyes just a bit, just enough to look into mine.

He just stares at me, his eyes into mine, for what feels like the longest time. He doesn't say anything, but in that stare, I feel him say things. Thank you. I love you. I'm sorry.

I want to say those things back to him, but I feel embarrassed, especially with others so close. I feel torn. On the one hand, I do have genuine feelings for Ben. Yet, I also have feelings for Logan, especially now, as I feel him leaving. I want to spend time with Ben, but I need to spend time with Logan.

I curl up beside Logan, hold his head in my lap, and gently brush his hair away, off his clammy forehead. I decide I need to distract him, to tell him a story.

"Once, when I was young, before the war, my dad took me hunting," I begin. I figure this is a story that Logan would like.

He perks up the slightest bit and I know he's interested. Encouraged, I continue.

"He gave me this huge, oversized rifle, and I was terrified to use it. We walked for hours, deep into the woods, looking all day for anything to kill. I really didn't want to be there. But I wanted to make him happy.

"Around sunset, I noticed this weird look in his eyes, a look I had never seen before. It was something like confusion. Maybe fear. He was always so confident, so in control, I didn't understand what was happening. That look, to me, was scarier than anything.

"I asked him what was wrong, and he finally admitted he was lost. He didn't know the way back. Now we were deep into the woods, and it was getting dark. I was terrified. I asked him what we were going to do. He said we were going to find a tree, go to sleep, and in the morning, find our way out.

"That terrified me more than anything, and I started to cry. He yelled at me, told me to be tough, that things could be worse. After a while I stopped crying and sat down next to him, against the tree. We sat there like that, silent, both of us against the same tree, all night long.

"The crazy thing was, he didn't say another word to me, all night long. As if he didn't have a single thing to say to his own daughter.

"I thought about that night for years, and for so many years I was mad at him. But now, looking back, I'm not mad anymore. Because now I realize that, for him, silence was speech. That was his way of being with me. He was telling me he loved me, in his own way. He just couldn't use his words."

I turn and look down at Logan, and he looks up at me, eyes open.

"In some ways, he reminds me of you," I say, nervous to say it.

Logan opens his eyes wide with one final effort, and looks up into mine. I see a slight smile at the corner of his lips, and I realize he liked the story.

Logan doesn't say anything to me either, but he slowly nods, and I can see the love in his eyes. In that moment, I can see he is just like my dad. He is talking to me. Even if he can't say the words.

*

It is late into the night, I don't know how late, and we are all sitting up, except for Logan, awake around the fire. After today's events, none of us can sleep. We all stare wide-eyed into the flames, each lost in our own world, each of us staring death in the face.

Hours ago, dozens of new recruits were thrown into the room. These new kids keep to themselves, on the far side of the cave, content with the slop dropped down for them. No one tries to come our way, which is just as well, because I don't know if I'd have the energy left to fight them off. Not that I even care about my food at this point. But I am curious as to why there are so few kids this time.

"Stragglers," Flo says. I look over and see she is watching them, too. She has an uncanny way of reading my mind. "It was slim pickings today for the slaverunners. That's bad news for us."

"Why?"

"They need to keep the games exciting for their crowd. When they don't have a lot of kids, they have no choice but to pit us directly against each other."

Instinctively, I feel that she's right. And it makes my heart drop. I can't stand the thought of it. I can't imagine being pitted against Bree, against Charlie, against Ben, against Flo. Against Logan. It is too cruel to even imagine.

"Well we found a way to stick together through all this," I say. "I think we can find a way tomorrow, too."

Flo shrugs. "I'm not so sure," she says.

I try to interpret her words, to understand her meaning. Is it a threat? Is she saying she'll fight us? A part of me feels that she might. She's a survivor, and she has Charlie to look out for. I can't put anything past her.

We lapse into silence, all retreat back into our own worlds, our game faces on, as I think about tomorrow. I know that we can't last another day. I have to come up with a plan. Something. I have to find us a way out of here.

I turn over all possible options in my mind, again and again, until my eyes grow heavy. I think of Charlie's tunnels, obsessively, feeling that is the key. But I am not thinking clearly, and cannot come up with any answers. The solution is just beyond my grasp.

*

When the buzzer rings on the morning of the third day, this time, my eyes are already opened. Bleary-eyed, I've been awake all night, my mind racing with the possibilities, with ideas of how to get out. The steel door slides open, and in march dozens of slaverunners.

I don't give them the dignity of dragging me to my feet, and instead stand before they can reach me. I walk over and wake the others, gently pulling Bree and Charlie to their feet. I see that Flo's awake, too, already standing. Ben gets up with an effort.

The slaverunners are in front of us, and I go to Logan and shake him roughly. It takes him a while to even open his eyes. He does not look good.

"Get up," I say.

He shakes his head no. He looks like he's half-alive.

A slaverunner hurries over and kicks him hard.

"Let him be!" I scream.

The slaverunner shoves me, and I stumble back into the wall, hard. Flo steps up and punches the slaverunner across the face. I'm shocked, and touched by her sticking up for me.

But she pays the price dearly, backhanded hard by another slaverunner, the sound of his hand slapping her flesh echoing in the room.

She goes to attack, but I step forward and get between them, holding her back.

"It's OK, Flo," I say to her, seeing the violence in her eyes and not wanting her to get hurt. "Let it go. Let's just get him on his feet."

I reach over with Flo and Ben and we all drag Logan to his feet. It's like pulling up an old tree. He groans out in pain, and Ben and I each drape an arm around one of his shoulders, helping him hobble. The six of us are then marched out of the room.

As they prod us out of the room, this time we are led down a different tunnel. We're all led to a huge steel door, and as it opens, to my surprise we enter a brightly-lit room, its walls lined with weapons. Hanging from the wall are swords, bows and arrows, shields, throwing knives, slingshots, spears, and all sorts of other weapons. I can't understand what's happening. I think of the damage I can do to the slaverunners with these, and feel as if I've walked into a candy store.

"Choose!" barks a slaverunner.

Suddenly, the dozen or so new kids race through the room, scattering, each bee lining for a weapon.

"It's fighting day," Flo says, and then hurries off to the wall. She goes for a large sword.

I hurry off with Logan and Charlie and Bree, and as we reach the wall, I prop Logan against it and hand him a big shield.

"If you can't fight, at least you can defend, right?" I ask him.

He nods weakly.

I grab a long spear and strap it to my back. Then I reach out and grab a long sword as well. While I'm at it, I see a nice throwing knife and grab that and attach it to my belt.

Beside me, Bree has chosen a slingshot. It is a good choice. She was always good with her hand-made slingshot, and this one comes with a bag of small rocks, and she ties it to her belt. Then, of course, she chooses the bow and arrow, which she is just as good at. Charlie chooses a strange medieval weapon: it is a long chain, with a handle on one end, and a metal ball on the other. Ben chooses a long sword, and nothing else.

Flo, holding her sword, turns towards me, and for a moment I feel what it would be like to face her. In some ways it would be like facing a mirror image of myself. It terrifies me.

A buzzer sounds and I look around the room and see the other kids are all well-armed. This doesn't bode well.

"Bree, Charlie," I say. "Whatever happens out there, stay close to me, okay? Don't go far off. This way I can look out for you."

"You don't need to look after Charlie," Flo chides. "I will."

She's territorial, and already has her game face on.

"Just trying to help," I say.

"Look after your own," she snaps back to me.

She has drawn a clear line in the sand.

"Charlie, come over here, with me," she commands.

Charlie looks back and forth between me and Flo, and seems reluctant to go to her. But slowly, he obeys, and walks over to Flo's side.

I can't help but feel as if we are now all adversaries. All fighting for survival.

*

We are marched down tunnel after tunnel for what feels like hours, entirely underground this time, passing red emergency lights every twenty feet. Rats scurry beneath my feet, and in the distance, I hear the muted rumbling of a train passing somewhere. I wonder how many trains passed through here today, how many slaves they are capturing from the countryside, to present to their games. It makes me sick.

I feel the winter wind whipping through, colder today, and I wonder when we will exit outside. Something is different today. This time, there is no end in sight to the tunnels. I don't understand it. Are today's games underground?

Logan is growing heavy as Ben and I carry him, and I can feel his life force leaving him. The idea of bringing him to these games, to compete with others, is crazy. He can barely stand.

I try once again to think strategy, to figure out a way we can all survive. But it is hard. We're surrounded by a dozen armed kids, all set on killing us, and I don't even know the playing field we'll be on. Just keeping myself alive will be a challenge, much less keeping the others alive, too. I worry for Bree, more than anyone. I have to find a way to protect her.

A huge steel door retracts, and as it does, the tunnel fills with sunlight. There is the muted roar of a crowd, and we are prodded forward. I raise my eyes against the blinding light, trying to figure out where we are.

As I am shoved outside, the steel door closes behind us, the winter wind hits me in the face and the roar grows louder. I look all around, and see no one. I can't figure out where it's coming from. Then the crowd roars again, and I look straight up.

I realize we're on the floor of a circular canyon, with steep cliffs rising straight up all around us, several hundred feet. At the very top, standing on the edge of the cliffs, behind a railing, are the spectators. They jeer down at us.

The walls rise straight up, for hundreds of feet, and I don't see how we can ever get out of here. Then I realize: there is no way out this time. I look around and see the dozen kids, armed to the teeth, standing with us on the floor of the crater. They have put us all down here, with no escape, to make us fight to the death. But why down here? Why not up high, on the ground?

I survey this arena, the canyon walls, and have an ominous feeling. I can't help but feel as if the slaverunners have some trick up their sleeve. I look up and about a hundred feet up, I notice thick ropes, dangling down from the top of the crater. But why do they stop midway? It doesn't make any sense. How are we supposed to get up there to begin with?

Before I can figure it out, suddenly, a voice booms through the air. The crowd quiets, and I look up and see the leader, staring down, his arms open wide, a smug smile on his face.

"Brothers and sisters!" he bellows. "I present to you the third and final day of Arena Two!"

The crowd screams out in response. He waits for it to quiet down.

"Today's objective is simple. There are eighteen of you down there. You will all kill each other. When there is one person standing, he or she will be the winner!"

The crowd roars at his words.

"Let the games begin!"

Suddenly, I sense motion all around me. The dozen kids all turn on each other, and on us - and a brawl breaks out.

The crowd roars, loving it.

This arena brings out the worst in the kids. I see vicious expressions on their faces as they charge each other in every direction. I see one girl take her sword and stab a short boy in the back. He falls, stunned, the first casualty. The crowd roars.

I sense motion behind me and turn in time to spot an overweight girl charging me, bringing an axe down for my head. My survival instinct kicks in. At the last second, I swerve out of the way and swing my sword, chopping her ax handle in two. She goes flying past me with her broken handle, and as she does, I kick her hard in the back, sending her flying flat on her face.

The crowd cheers. She gets up with a snarl.

"I don't want to hurt you," I say, trying to talk reason to her. It's true. I don't want to kill anyone. I just want to get us all out of here.

But she won't listen to reason. She seems to think that the way to survive is to kill me.

She pulls a small knife from her waist and charges me, holding it high, screaming. I don't wait. I take the small throwing knife from my waist, plant one foot, reach back, and throw it at her. As she charges me, just feet away, my knife lodges perfectly in her forehead. Her eyes open wide as she stops cold, and falls flat on her back, dead.

The crowd roars.

But I am caught off guard. Before I can react, another kid charges me from the side, swinging a huge sledgehammer. I dodge it, and it misses by a fraction of an inch. I feel its wind race past me, and realize that in another second, it would've crushed my ribs.

This boy is quick and strong, and without pausing, he brings the sledgehammer up around his head, and aims to bring it down on my shoulder. I can't react fast enough, and realize that in another moment, he will break my arm.

A stone hits him in the side of the temple, and he staggers and falls sideways. I look over and see that Bree has used her slingshot. It was a perfect hit. Once again, she has saved my life.

Before I can process this, once again I'm caught off guard, as three more kids charge right for me. For some reason, they all seem to be targeting me. One of them brings a sword down for my back, and I hear a clanging noise, and turn to see Logan standing there, holding his shield, blocking the below. I am amazed: he has just saved me.

Logan stumbles on his bad leg, but manages to hold onto the shield, and uses it to block several blows. He then swings around and cracks the teenage boy hard across the face, knocking him back. I lunge forward with my sword and stab the boy in the heart, finishing him off. He goes down, and the crowd roars.

Another boy charges me from the side, holding a spear, about to hurl it at me. Before I can react, I feel something whiz by my ear, and see it lodge into his throat. An arrow. He falls, dead, dropping his spear harmlessly before he can hurl it. I look over and see Ben standing there, having just fired.

Another boy grabs me from behind in a chokehold; he has thick forearms, and he squeezes hard. His arms are the worst weapons of all: he's squeezing the life out of me. He's also using me as a human shield, so the others can't help me. I don't know how I will get out of this one.

Then I feel him stagger, off-balance, and fall. I don't understand why, but I break out of his grip, gasping for air. I look down and see a metal chain ball wrapped around his ankles, squeezing them together. Charlie has thrown them, tripped him up. I take my sword and plunge it through his heart. The crowd roars.

"Charlie!" Flo snaps, summoning him back to her side. Busy fighting, she leans back and kicks a girl hard in the chest, then swings her sword and cuts off her head. The crowd roars like crazy.

I look all around us, and can't believe the carnage. The fighting went so quickly, was such a blur. All around us are littered bodies. The other dozen kids are all dead. The six of us have won. Despite Flo's warnings, we worked as a team. And now we are the lone survivors.

The crowd roars and stomps like crazy. It seems we have beaten the system.

We all stand there, looking at each other, each out of breath, holding our weapons. Now there is no one left to fight but each other. And, of course, none of us would hurt each other.

Or would we?

I look over, and see Flo staring back at me, hard eyed. I see her summing us all up, surveying all of us as if we are her final competition.

The crowd quiets as the leader steps forward.

"There can only be one survivor. If you won't fight each other, then we will kill you all."

We all stand there, frozen in an awkward tension. Flo huddles beside Charlie, and Logan, Ben and Bree stand closer to me. Ben has his hand on his bow and arrow, and Bree on her slingshot. I can see that a part of Flo wants to be the only victor, for Charlie's sake. But I think another part of her is divided. After all, I have saved her, and Charlie. And now I also have backup with Bree and with Ben. She hesitates, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.

We all stand there, none of us moving, and soon the crowd begins to boo. And then, to heckle us. They start throwing down small rocks, and they land all around us, like hail. But the rocks miss, the crowd too far away to do any serious damage.

Just as their booing grows to a pitch, I begin to hear a great rumbling noise. It sounds as if the world is about to explode, and I can't figure out what it is. Until I look up.

I spot a massive boulder being rolled, pushed straight down the cliff. It goes over the edge, rumbling, and comes rolling straight down the walls - right for us.

At once we all run together, trying madly to get out of the way as it comes flying down at us like a missile. I grab Bree's hand as I run, and we all manage to run just hard enough to get out of its way. It misses us by feet. It flies by, stirring up a cloud of dust, and then crashes into the far wall of the canyon like a nuclear bomb. The ground shakes, and it raises an even bigger cloud of dust and debris.

The crowd cheers wildly. The leader steps forward.

"That was only one boulder. We have dozens of others. If you don't fight each other, you will be killed by us within minutes. Now stand and fight!"

The crowd cheers, and Flo slowly turns to me.

"We have to fight," she says. "If we don't, they'll kill us all."

"I don't want to fight you," I say. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't," she says. "If not for our sake, then do it for the sake of the others. You and I have to fight."

I look up and spot another boulder, perched high up, and I realize she's right. If we don't do something soon, those boulders will kill us all.

"No, I don't want you to fight!" Charlie screams.

"Neither do I!" Bree screams.

I turn and look at them, feeling their pain.

"It will be okay," I say. "Don't worry."

Flo turns and walks out slowly into the center of the canyon floor. As she does, the crowd goes wild. As I watch her, I feel I have no choice. I have to do it. If this is what she wants, this is how it will be.

I walk out, too, following her, and the crowd rises to a frenzy. The two of us stand in the center, facing each other.

As I am standing there, wondering if she will really fight, the crowd screaming, suddenly Flo rushes towards me, sneering, raising her sword high. She brings it down, right for my head, and I raise my sword and block her blow at the last second. Her blow is strong, one meant to actually kill. I am shocked. I can hardly believe it. She is not posturing: she really wants to kill me.

The crowd cheers like mad.

As I stand there, blocking her blow with my sword, the strength of her swing is making my hands shake. I'm shocked at the strength in her shoulders. I know that I can't hold her back for long, so at the last second, I step to the side, and her sword goes flying down, to my side. Her momentum carries her flying past me, and as she goes, I wheel around and hit her in the back of the head with the flat of my sword, sending her stumbling forward.

The crowd cheers, and Flo turns and scowls back at me. She charges again, sword high, and slashes down; I stand to the side, and she just misses. I slash back at her, and she blocks my blow. We go blow for blow, swinging and parrying, pushing each other back and forth across the floor.

One of her slashes is slightly quicker than mine and she manages to slice my bicep. I scream out in pain, as blood squirts out. It is my first wound of the day.

The crowd screams like crazy. I reach over and cup my wound and see my hand is red, stained with blood.

She stares back coldly, unapologetic. I can hardly believe it.

She charges again, and we go blow for blow. She is strong, and fast, and I'm getting tired quickly. She is a machine. My shoulders are aching and burning, and I realize I can't sustain this much longer.

For some reason, I think of dad. His words ring through my head, as I think of everything he taught me. All those lessons about fighting. About being tough. About hanging in there. About not fighting on the other guy's terms, and I realize that's what I've been doing: fighting on her terms. I realize I don't need to. I know other ways of fighting. Who said this needs to be a sword fight? I decide instead to make it a hand fight - what I am best at.

As she slashes again, this time I step aside, and instead of slashing, lean back and kick her hard in the ribs.

It works. She wasn't expecting it, and she keels over. The crowd goes wild.

Without giving her a chance to recover, I reach over and grab her by the back of the hair and knee her hard in the face.

She drops her sword as she falls back, landing on her butt, then on her back, her nose broken. She lies there, dazed and confused. She hadn't expected me to turn this into a fist fight.

The crowd screams like crazy, standing on its feet.

I take a step forward, and hold my sword at the tip of her throat. I have her beat. I can kill her easily now if I want to.

"Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!" the crowd chants.

As I stand there, the wound in my arm hurting, a part of me feels betrayed, and wants to kill her. After all, if this were me down there, wouldn't she kill me?

But I see her staring back at me, and I think of Charlie, without a sister, and a part of me just can't bring myself to do it.

"Do it," she smiles. In that moment I realize that she wants me to. She's had enough: she wants to die.

The crowd quiets, and I look up and see the leader step forward.

"If you kill her," he screams down to me, "I will spare you. All of you. All you have to do is kill her. And then you will all be set free."

The crowd cheers. I look down at Flo and see her breathing hard, scowling up at me.

"Please," she says. "Do it."

I see that she is genuine - she really wants to die.

"NO!" Charlie screams. "Please don't kill her!"

I think of the leader's words. If I kill Flo it will spare Bree. And Charlie. And Ben. And Logan. And myself. All for someone who wants to die anyway. For someone who would have gladly killed me.

I know I should do it.

But as I look down at her, a part of me just can't do it. Besides, I want to defy the leader.

So instead, I drop my sword. It lands on the dusty canyon floor with a clang.

The crowd jeers and boos and screams down at me. But I don't care.

Flo slowly shakes her head in disgust. "Stupid," she says.

There is a tremendous rumbling noise, and at first I think it's another boulder; but then I look up and see no rocks coming down, and realize it's something else. The entire ground is shaking beneath me, like an earthquake, and I realize that whatever it is, it's much more ominous.

Suddenly, large steel traps open on the ground and walls all around us, and water comes gushing in. It comes gushing in like a river, like a dam breaking, from every side, a huge tidal wave coming right for us. I look over at Charlie, Ben, Logan and Flo, and see them all looking wide-eyed at the water.

Bree holds out her hands and runs for me. I go to pick her up.

But it is a lost cause.

Suddenly, we're slammed by water from every direction. My world turns upside down as I go head over heels, tumbling beneath the waves. The gushing water picks me up and smashes me down again, and I go tumbling, end over end, water shooting up my nose. I whirl and whirl, trying to make my way to the top of the water, trying to hold my breath.

After about thirty seconds of complete chaos, I manage to surface. The water is swirling all around me, and I can hear the crowd cheering like crazy. I look for signs of the others, and in the distance, I spot Bree and Charlie, their heads bobbing just above water. Further away, I can see Flo, alive, and Ben, flailing. But I look everywhere, and don't see Logan.

Then I spot him: his head bobs up, just feet away from me. He looks in utter agony, and I manage to swim over to him, fighting the current.

"Brooke!" he cries out.

He holds out one hand and I swim for it.

Our hands just touch when I see something in the water beneath us. It is a whirlpool, sucking down everything in its path. Our fingertips graze each other, and then he gets sucked away, the whirlpool pulling him down.

"Brooke!" he screams.

I see the fear in his eyes as he gets pulled away from me, sucked deeper into the whirlpool.

"Logan!" I cry.

He goes down, under water, then disappears.

There is nothing but silence.

The whirlpool disappears - as if someone turned off a switch. I search the calm surface of the water.

"Logan!" I shriek.

But it's too late. He's gone.

I can't believe it. Logan. The backbone of our group. Dead.

My heart breaks. But I can't think about that now. I force it from my mind. The waters are swirling and rising, and I spin around, looking for any sign of the others. I see Bree and Charlie, close to each other, each flailing, struggling, arms up over the water. Luckily, Bree is a strong swimmer - and it looks like Charlie is, too. But I can already tell that Bree is losing strength and won't last long. I have to save her.

I fight the current, swim over to her, the waters rising and frothing all around me; it is like swimming in a giant fishbowl.

Somehow, I manage to reach her; I grab her with one arm, from behind, wrapping my forearm around her chest.

"It's okay, Bree, hang on."

She is gasping for air. The waves have pushed us close to the canyon wall, and I look up and see the rope dangling down the side of the cliff. Just minutes ago, the rope was a hundred feet off the ground - but now, it's right there, in my reach. I can hardly believe it.

I reach out and grab it, it's the knotty rope digging into my palms, then hoist Bree up onto it. Once she's safe, I look over and about fifteen feet away spot Charlie, who's getting swept away in the wrong direction.

"Save him!" Bree cries.

I swim to him, fighting the currents, grab hold of his shirt, and with my last burst of energy, fight my way back, against the current, towards the rope.

I make it, and hoist him, too. Now he and Bree are both on the rope, dangling, and already beginning to climb their way up. I reach up and grab on behind them, and hang onto it, breathing hard, catching my breath. I look around, but see no signs of Ben or Flo. I wonder if they've made it.

But there is no time to search, or to rest on my heels. The water is rising fast all around us.

I look straight up, and see the steep climb ahead of us, two hundred feet to the top of the canyon. We have no choice.

"Climb!" I yell, over the roar of the gushing water.

Bree quickly climbs, as does Charlie, and the three of us ascend, straight up the rope. I use my feet to push off the rock face, as if repelling, and gain momentum.

Soon, the three of us are high up, a good fifty feet above the water. I'm starting to feel optimistic, that we might actually make it out of here.

And then, I hear a cry.

I stop and look down over my shoulder, and can't believe what I see: there, in the center of the gushing waters, swimming for the wall, is Flo. Her face is etched in panic, and she reaches a hand towards me. I've never seen panic on her face before, and I can't understand it: is it because she cannot swim?

But then, I see it, what has her terror-struck - and my heart drops.

A huge tentacle reaches up out of the water, wraps itself around her leg, and drags her down, beneath the water. Flo disappears, bubbling, then moments later surfaces again, gasping for air.

"Please!" she screams.

"Flo!" Charlie screams.

But we are helpless. There's nothing I can do from up here but watch as the sea creature raises its ugly head. It is the most hideous creature I have ever seen: it looks like a giant squid, but with rows and rows of sharp teeth and a single, large eye. Its face is grotesque, some sort of freak animal that probably resulted from the fallout of the nuclear war.

It reaches out with another tentacle, wraps it around Flo, and sucks her down for good.

The crowd roars, as Flo is pulled down underneath the water, and the monster disappears with her.

I look down at the waters beneath me with a new sense of dread. If I slip and fall, I will be finished.

"MOVE!" I scream to Bree and Charlie, who stay there, looking down, terror-struck.

We all climb faster, when I hear a mocking laugh, and look straight up: the leader stands there, less than a hundred feet away, looking down and holding a machete.

"No!" I scream.

But it's too late. He swings it down, chopping our rope.

Instantly, the three of us go hurling through the air, screaming.

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