Bred felt it, too, hot pincers tearing right through the muscles and skin and searing the pit of his stomach.
Water filled their little chasm. Already it was up to their ankles. He reached out and took his sister’s hand once more. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
The rain is turning to hail, now. Big hailstones smashing into their bodies, and the hailstones are on fire and they burn the skin when they touch and they arrive with mind–numbing impact. Bred and Tyla stop thinking, begin reacting instinctively.
Then the flood. It came roaring down the canyon like a giant’s fist, catching them from behind and sweeping them off their feet. The canyon walls were high and smooth, and the sky was only a pitch–black rumor suspended above them somewhere, if they had dared look all the way up. Water bubb
