The constant shaking finally claimed the Dense Mass cavern. The floor cracked and jumped, ripped apart by billions of tons of settling rock. The ceiling collapsed, dropping boulders the size of city blocks into the soupy mix of melted ship and liquid rock.
The orb's burst of energy created a void that nature had to fill. The mountain slowly fell in on itself as magma continued to stream upward toward the sky like blood hosing from some giant's severed jugular.
The Land Rover rocked wildly on its shocks, bouncing like some child's toy as the ground shook and rumbled. Sonny kept both hands firmly on the hood, trying to keep his balance.
"Sonofabitch!” His voice rang with amazement and joy. He couldn't take his eyes off Funeral Mountain's death-throes. “Sonofabitch that's somethin’ to see!"
The peak seemed to fold in on itself, like a massive parody of a circus tent with the center stake kicked out. Unfathomable mounds of rock dropped backwards out of sight, and the mountain itself simply fell. The ground shook with an angry wrath. Sonny held on against the shockwaves, transfixed as the cursed place tore itself apart.
He screamed with laughter and shook his fist at the dying mountain. Sonny hoped Kayla was in there somewhere. He had to get out of there and very soon, but he kept scanning the mountain with his binoculars, looking to see if any of them had made it out.
Lybrand saw it first. She screamed with the victorious joy of a winning gladiator. “Sunlight! We're almost there!"
O'Doyle could barely hear her above the rumbling din that filled the tunnels with deafening, demanding insistence. The ground jolted unpredictably under his chest — it felt like trying to crawl across a giant trampoline while a thousand children bounced to their hyper hearts’ content. He feared that at any moment the narrow ceiling would give way and smash him like a human sandwich.
They heard a massive tunnel section give way somewhere behind them. The patch of jostling sunlight grew brighter, and then they were out, trying to stand on the wildly shaking plateau. O'Doyle grabbed Lybrand's hand, his eyes searching for the best way down the dancing mountain.
"Well I'll be dipped in pig shit,” Sonny said as he stared through the binoculars. Two people on the little plateau where he'd crawled into the tunnels only days before. O'Doyle and Lybrand — even at this distance he could see they were in bad shape and in deep trouble.
"Well, you only live once,” Sonny said as he stumbled into the driver's seat. He gunned the Land Rover's engine and shot toward the mountain.
The rumbling eased as Lybrand and O'Doyle raced down the slope, falling more often than running. Nothing short of a decapitation could stop them now. She didn't turn around to look, but she could feel the ground giving way behind them, falling away into some bottomless chasm inside the mountain.
They moved forward with all their strength, all their determination. They would not stop, no matter what the injury. Suddenly a new, deeper roar filled the air, like the sound of a mountain-sized panther. They felt a wave of blistering heat across their backs.
"Sonofabitch!” Sonny screamed, his laughter now long gone. “Sonofabitch!” He had to get to those people. Sonny fought the urge to turn the Rover around and head out — despite the horror he saw before him.
A billowing geyser of molten rock erupted from the center of the former mountain, spraying high into the air with grace and power. The Rover grazed a boulder and bounced harshly to the right. Sonny forced himself to look at the path, tearing his eyes away from the pillar of fire.
A giant boulder rolled toward him, bouncing like a rubber ball. He swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding it.
He spotted O'Doyle and Lybrand. Sonny slammed the brakes, bringing the Rover to a sliding halt. He hopped out and ran to them. They looked as if every part of their bodies was damaged, cut, bleeding or broken. Only their eyes looked strong, determination fixed in them as if they were chiseled from stone.
"I don't believe it,” O'Doyle said, never slowing his forward progress. “Sonny McGuiness to the rescue.” His arm around Lybrand's shoulder, they raced for the Land Rover.
The mountain shook with landlocked thunder as the magma plume sputtered once, then roared ever higher. Burning ash splashed down all around them, searing their skin and melting their KoolSuits. Chunks of smoking rock crashed everywhere. O'Doyle had to wonder if they were hurled by ghosts of the recently cooked rocktopi, lashing out from their new home in hell.
Sonny slid under O'Doyle's arm and pulled him roughly toward the Rover. He shoved O'Doyle and Lybrand into the back seat. Burning rocks and barely cooled airborne lava peppered the car like deadly hail. Black paint bubbled and peeled as Sonny gunned the engine and drove headlong back down the two-track path. Within seconds, they drove free of the aerial assault.
O'Doyle and Lybrand never looked back — they both passed out in the back seat, laying on top of each other, moving only when the Rover turned sharply or careened off a rock.
Behind them all, the new volcano continued to rage into the darkening sky. Most of its magma fell within a half mile of the plume, and slowly but surely, the cone of a new peak started to reach away from the sunken grave of Funeral Mountain.
The intense heat no longer affected Connell. His hands and feet grew numb with chill. He coughed once, spitting blood all over his chin and onto the rock that pinned him motionless. Pain covered every part of his ravaged body, but it didn't bother him — it felt distant, as if it were a picture, a memory.
He opened his eyes but could see nothing. Darkness covered him. He struggled for air, managing only short breaths, fighting the pain of broken ribs and the confining weight of the boulder on his chest.
Motionless. Trapped. Even if he had a part of his body that wasn't broken, ripped or pulverized, he couldn't move it due to the boulder-tomb that held him still. Only one hand lay free — he could have wiggled it had it not already been smashed to bloody paste.
He tried another breath and coughed up more blood. Agony splashed through his lungs. The fear of death washed over him, crowding out everything else. In a haze of pain and half consciousness, Connell waited to die.
A faint light flashed through the cracks between the boulders. A warm light, a joyous light. Connell tried to look toward it, but could not move his fractured head. The light seemed to penetrate his body, wash through him, ease the pain. A voice called out from the light.
His favorite voice. Cori's voice.
"Pea,” he said. “Oh, Pea…"
"I'm here with you, love. Don't be afraid."
Connell's mind faded in and out, not knowing if she was real or just a vision of his fading brain. He didn't care. She was with him again. Her light filled him, erasing his agony, relaxing his devastated body.
He felt something warm and tender gently lift his crushed hand. He instantly recognized her touch. He didn't mind the pain, as long as he could feel her again.
Connell's hand slowly grew cold in hers, and with a tiny smile on his face, his half-lidded eyes faded away into a blank stare of stillness and peace.
Epilogue
Patrick O'Doyle knew leadership when he saw it.
The woman sitting behind the desk in front of him was old, out of shape, and without her glasses could probably see all of three feet. The eyes behind those glasses looked red and swollen, puffy bags beneath them hanging darkly. She wouldn't last five minutes in the field. She wouldn't have lasted three minutes in the tunnels.