And with that, we get back on the bikes and begin driving slowly along the edge, looking for a place we might be able to drive down. But this crater isn’t home to a slaver community. No one’s chiseled a path for bikes into the crater’s edge. It’s just a sharp, jagged hole, blasted into the earth by a nuclear bomb.
“If we had some rope, we could try shooting it across with an arrow,” Molly says.
“I’m pretty sure that only works in cartoons,” I say. “Plus, there’s the whole not having any rope situation.”
“What if we abandon the bikes?” Bree says from behind me. “Maybe we’d be able to scramble down?”
It’s one of the more sensible suggestions, but it’s still too risky. Not having the bikes could mean the difference between life and death. We need to keep hold of them as long as we possibly can.
“Hey, look!” Charlie suddenly cries, pointing ahead.
We ride over to where he was pointing and see animal tracks leading down into crater. If we follow in their footsteps, we’re bound to find a safe way down. It looks like a pack of them walk this route regularly, at least enough to have worn a wide groove into the mountainside. But I look at the others, unsure.
“They might be predators,” I say.
Molly raises a cocksure eyebrow. “Last time I checked, we were the predators,” she says.
I can’t help but smile at her fighting spirit. She’s right. Whatever animals made those tracks, we’re stronger, better, and fiercer than them.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
I lead the way down the perilous path. We don’t use the motors, instead letting gravity do the work. Any way we can save gas now we’ll have to take. Plus, if we’re quiet enough, we won’t draw attention to ourselves to whatever predators are lurking in the bottom of the crater.
Bree holds onto me tightly, tense as I maneuver down the steep incline. Bits of rock tumble from beneath my tires, making my heart fly into my mouth. She’s gripping so hard it’s starting to irritate the wounds on my chest and back.
After a tense ten minutes, we finally make it into the crater. As soon as I get on level land, an eerie feeling comes over me. My spine tingles as I get that undeniable sensation that we’re being watched.
We race across the trough of the crater then reach the steep wall at the other side. There’s no sign of a path back up. I curse under my breath.
“We need to search on foot,” I say. “There’s not enough gas to keep riding back and forth.”
As I start scanning the crater’s edge, it occurs to me that the only way we’re getting the bikes back up is by pushing. Even if we do find a path we can follow, it’s going to be back-breaking work getting back out of here.
“I think I’ve found something!” Molly calls.
We all go over and see her peering into a hole, five feet in diameter, dug into the side of the crater. It’s clearly been made by an animal of some sort.
“Do you think it’s a burrow?” I ask.
“I guess so,” Molly says. “Pretty big burrow.”
I don’t want to even imagine the type of creature that’s living inside. At the basin of the crater, the radiation will be high, meaning whatever lives down here will have taken a huge dose over the years. Just like the crazies in the lakes in the north, the creatures living down here will have evolved into something unrecognizable and formidable.
We all agree it’s too risky to venture into the burrow, even if it does eventually lead out of the crater. If there is something sleeping inside, it’s probably best to let it rest.
“I think I see something,” Ben says, peering into the distance.
Sure enough, there’s another path leading up the crater, made by the same prints as the one we took down. The animals that made these tracks have shown us down into the crater and are now offering us a way back out. They’re like guardian angels.
We go back to get the bikes and head toward the path. But as we go, a new noise joins the thrumming of our engines.
Jack and Penelope are suddenly alert, their ears pricking up, their teeth bared.
“What’s that noise?” I call out to the others.
We draw to a halt and cut off the engines. As soon as we do, the noise becomes perceptible. There’s no mistaking it. It’s the howling of wolves. And it’s close. Too close for comfort.
Penelope and Jack immediately join in with the howling. Bree tries to quiet Penelope down but it’s no use. The tiny Chihuahua is trying to make herself look fierce.
“Quick,” I say. “We have to go.”
But it’s too late. All at once, we’re surrounded by the most disgusting creatures I’ve ever seen. They look like wild dogs, but the radiation they’ve absorbed from having lived in the crater has made their bodies mangled. Their spines are curved upward, making them look more like hyenas than dogs. Their fur is balding in places, sticking up coarsely in others. Tumors grow out of their skin. Saliva drips from their jaws in thick strings, and their teeth, like their claws, are enormous.
I gun the engine of my bike, hoping that the noise will scare them off, and start whizzing around and around in circles, trying to tire the creatures out so that they’re slow enough to take a hit. The others do the same. The wolves chase our bikes, their eager jaws snapping, treating it like a game, as though they’re nothing but puppies. It reminds me of Sasha, our old pet dog, and the way she would lumber around play fighting with me. I’m almost relieved that she was killed by slaverunners; they saved her from this fate, of being turned into a grotesque, cancerous, murderous creature.
We’re burning through our remaining gas fast, and the dogs are showing no signs of slowing. If only there was somewhere to ride the bikes up and out of the crater, but it’s too steep.
Suddenly, I hear a scream. I look back and see Molly’s bike careening away as she and Charlie tumble to the ground.
“Charlie!” Bree screams.
The wolf-dogs pounce on them straightaway. I turn my bike around and race straight at them. Thankfully, they’re scared off and run away.
I leap off the bike and run over to where Molly and Charlie are sprawled on the ground, Molly cowering over him, protecting him with her whole body. I grab her by the shoulders and roll her back. There’s a huge pool of blood there.
Charlie wriggles out and flies right into Bree’s arms. Molly lies there panting, gritting her teeth in agony.
The dogs have torn a hole in her calf so deep I can see the bone. The sight turns my stomach. Ryan removes his shirt and bandages her up, but it soaks up with blood within a matter of moments. He looks back at me gravely.
“We can’t stay here,” I say. “There could be more packs waiting to get us. Can you walk, Molly?”
She tries to stand on her bitten leg but the second she puts weight on it she cries out in pain. I look up at the sheer face of the crater. Not only are we going to have to climb, but we’re going to have to carry Molly. There’s no way we’ll be able to push the bikes up while carrying her at the same time. We’re going to have to abandon them. From here on out, we’re going by foot.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My feet are blistered and swollen. My mouth is parched. I have no idea how long we’ve been walking. It feels like days. In fact, I think it has been days. The sun has set and risen several times.
With one hand, I cling onto Bree. She’s so weak it reminds me of the time back in the mountain cabin when she had a fever. If she had been well enough to travel with me to the cabin I’d found, where would we be now? Would we still be safe in the mountains, hiding from the slaverunners? Would I have avoided fighting in the arenas and being forced to become a murderer? Or would we have perished in the mountains? There would always have been something waiting to finish us off. Death seems to lurk around every corner.