"Run where?" Sera asks.

"Down," Garrick says. He walks to the corner of the room. Kicks a dusty rug aside. Under it — a massive iron hatch, glowing faintly with heat. "I've been digging for three years. Just in case."

Bukh stares at the hatch. "You dug a tunnel? By yourself?"

"I'm paranoid, not lazy."

He pulls the hatch open. A wave of heat hits us. It's not cold down there. It's hot. Like a furnace.

"Where does it go?" I ask.

"Under the mountains. Past the old mines. — Garrick grabs a lantern. — Right next to the earth's core."

Sera freezes. Red eyes. Unblinking. "The core?"

"Not in the core. Next to it. — He shrugs. — When the sky started falling, I knew the surface was lost. The radiation. The monsters. The holy men. Up there, you're dead. Down here... — He points into the dark. — Down here, you survive."

I look at the hatch. At the dark. At the heat.

Like the old stories. When the bombs fell, people went underground. They survived.

"He's right," I say.

Sera looks at me. "What?"

"Up there, we're prey. Down here, we're just... hiding. — I look at Garrick. — Show us the way."

We climb down. One by one. Garrick first. Then Sera. Then the kid. Then Bukh. Then me. Corvin comes last. Old. Slow. But steady.

The tunnel is narrow. The walls are red. Glowing. Veins of magma pulse in the stone.

"How long did you say you've been digging?" I ask.

"Three years. — Garrick's voice echoes. — Maybe four. Lost count."

"And nobody noticed?"

"I was careful. Dumped the dirt in the river. Covered my tracks."

Bukh stumbles. Catches himself on the wall. "Damn, — hic — it's hot down here." "Keep your voice down," Garrick says. "Sound travels." We walk for hours. The tunnel goes deeper. The air gets hotter. The lantern flickers. And then I look at Garrick. At his back. At the way he moves through the dark like he's done it a thousand times. "You were right," I say. He doesn't turn. "About what?" "About the surface. About running. About digging. — I look at the walls. At the glowing veins. — You're not crazy