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knelt down. Bryson stopped to watch him.
    “There’s an underground cellar right about here.” He brushed the dust on the ground with his fingers. “I just have to find the latch on the trapdoor.”
    “What trapdoor?”
    “It’s cleverly concealed.” Daren tried to keep his voice even as his panic began to rise. “We used compacted earth to cover it so it blends with everything else.”
    “Where is it?” Bryson’s pretense of friendliness was fading fast.
    “If you’ll come closer you’ll find it right over here.”
    Bryson knelt down beside him and hovered his torch above the ground.
    “We have one of two things here,” said Bryson, examining the dirt, “a brilliantly concealed room or a brilliant liar.”
    “I guess we’ll find out,” Daren said.
    With only seconds to pull it off, he grabbed a clump of dirt and pretended to pull an unseen latch. He gave Bryson a quick glance. The raider’s attention was focused on Daren’s hand. In one fluid motion, Daren swiped the dirt and flung it right at the clan leader’s face. Bryson roared, a cloud of dust billowing from his head. He fell backwards as he tried to rub off the dirt that had lodged in his eyelids.
    Daren saw his chance and bolted, hoping that he wouldn’t trip or run into a tree as he plunged headlong into the darkness. Shouts and footfalls echoed behind him. Something whizzed past his right ear…then his left. A few more strides and he saw a cluster of arrows embedded in a tree ahead of him. He swerved to the right and then to the left, zigzagging his way through the woods to confound the archers behind him. Most of the raiders weren’t as agile, and he heard some of them cry out as they slammed into the trees. He scaled over several fallen trunks and leaped over a small gulch. He felt confident that he was increasing the distance from his pursuers. Then he made a big mistake: he looked back to see how close they were. In that second, he tripped over a tree root and hurtled forward. His head collided with a log. Flashes appeared before his eyes accompanied by a ringing in his ears as he struggled to sit up. A shrill voice pierced the night.
    “He’s on the ground and he’s mine!”
    Daren’s temple throbbed as he groped around for a weapon. His fingers wrapped around a nearby rock as he managed to push himself to his feet. The pain made it difficult to focus. He turned to see the molar-necklaced woman barreling towards him, the teeth around her neck jiggling with each stride. Her features twisted with fury as she raised a scythe over her head and screeched. Her mouth was wide open with teeth filed into fangs just like Bryson’s. Daren clenched his jaw as he endured the ache boring into his skull. He raised the rock to his ear and waited for her to close the gap between them.
    As soon as she got near, he hurled the rock. Her forward momentum smashed her face into the oncoming missile. The force of the blow pushed her back, and she landed on the ground. She sat up and spat out her teeth into her palm. The woman stared at her hand then raised her head. Blood gushed down her nose and mouth like a scarlet waterfall. She trembled with rage.
    “I’ll rip your guts out!”
    Daren looked behind her and watched the torches get closer. As he turned to run, the ringing in his ears increased. A wave of nausea assaulted him as he took a few more steps. The trees began to spin around as he tried to get away. He felt a hand grab his ankle, and he fell on his back. Molar Woman wasn’t going to let him escape. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hoped that whatever they were going to do, they’d do it quickly. But he wasn’t really counting on it.
    There was screaming. He could hear shouts of “angel,” “death,” and “glowing” and the sound of running feet. But this time they were moving away. A few moments later, the forest lay silent. He opened his eyes and raised his head. In the distance, he saw the cloaked figure. A soft,