The floor succumbed to the newfound stress of the fracturing rock, and began to plummet into the ever-growing pool of magma. Zahra led the retreat, pausing when she was within fifty feet of the exit. There was no way through the throng of the Damned. They were about to die terrible deaths of one form or another.
“So, which is it?” she asked, glancing at the expanding subterranean shoreline. “Door Number One,” she shifted her gaze over to the empty stares of hundreds of Anubian creations, “or Door Number Two?”
Baahir and Ali stepped over to her, sharing in a heartfelt, apologetic goodbye. The only one not participating in the farewell was Rabia. She was too busy staring at the wall separating the courtyard from the neighboring city.
“How about a third option?” She looked back and smiled.
Zahra didn’t see it at first.
Then she bolted for it with Rabia right beside her.
“Come on!” she shouted. “Move your
Baahir and Ali leaped into motion, arriving at the divider wall just as the two women put their backs against the wall. They clasped hands. Zahra tipped her chin up.
“Ali, you’re up first. Baahir, you’re next.”
“Up there?” Baahir asked, backing up to give Ali room.
Ali stepped into the women’s hands and was launched up high enough to grip the top edge of the wall. The women then ducked lower and shoved up as hard as their tired bodies would let them. Finally, Ali pulled himself up the rest of the way and relieved Zahra and Rabia of his weight.
“Come on, brother…” Zahra said, gasping for air.
“Zahra, I—”
“Will
He glanced back at the advancing sea of red and orange and nodded. He lifted his right foot up and slipped it into the stirrup that was made up of two pairs of bleeding hands.
“Ready?” Zahra asked.
Rabia actually shook her head, getting an exhausted laugh out of Zahra. Nevertheless, the ladies heaved the lighter Baahir up. Ali reached down and promptly relieved them of Baahir’s weight and pulled him up the rest of the way. With picture-perfect synchronization, Zahra and Rabia slid down the wall and onto their butts.
“What’s this?”
They looked up and found Baahir staring down at them. “No time for that crap.” He knelt and reached a hand down to them. Ali mirrored him, offering a hand of his own.
“Go,” Zahra said. “I…” she swallowed what saliva she had, “I’ll be right behind you.”
Rabia gave her an unsure look, but she heeded Zahra’s request and stood. Zahra stood next and cupped her hands, placing her back flat against the wall.
“See you soon,” Zahra said, winking as Rabia stepped onto her improvised lift.
She grunted and pushed upward, allowing Rabia to get high enough for the sniper to step onto her shoulders. Then Baahir and Ali grasped Rabia’s wrists, and they pulled.
Now, the only one left was Zahra. She leaned against Door Number Three, beyond exhaustion, numb to the Damned’s breathy chorus. Within the glow of the molten rock, Zahra slowly slunk to the floor and closed her eyes.
“Dammit, Zahra, move!”
She snapped awake and popped up to her feet, drowsy and confused. The magma pool was gaining ground fast. She knew what she had to do, but was unsure if she had the strength to do it. She unclipped her hook, snapped it open, and tossed it up. It caught on the top of the wall, but that wasn’t the challenge.
The real question was whether Zahra had the upper body strength to climb, and if the grappling hook line was still strong enough after all it had been through.
She gripped the nylon cord and cringed as she felt it dig into her bleeding hands. Both her palms and several of her fingers sported open, flowing wounds. The blood made it difficult for Zahra to hold onto the cord. She failed in her first attempt, but Zahra wasn’t a quitter. She clutched the cord again and gained some steam. Then, all of a sudden, she shot upward, yelping in surprise and pain. The trio of Baahir, Rabia, and Ali had each grabbed the hook and lifted it, aiding in Zahra’s attempt.
“Grab her!” Ali said, bracing himself. He was in the middle of the three of them and got into a stance much like a powerlifter attempting a heavy deadlift. He stuck his chest out and squatted slightly. Then, with a nod, he signaled the others to let go and help Zahra.
They did, diving chest-first onto the top of the divider wall. Zahra’s hands slipped off just as they secured her wrists. Ali placed the hook down, knelt, and beckoned Rabia to give him Zahra’s hand. The sniper acquiesced and allowed Ali to take the burden.
“Help Baahir.”
Rabia slinked around Ali, taking care not to fall off the three-foot-wide partition. Her leverage was better. Baahir had no leverage since he was flat on his stomach. She took Zahra’s hand, which got Baahir to his feet. The trio pulled one last time.
