Gravity Wielder - Book 2 of Re-Forge

The Last Cavern

Deep in the Earth, below the Massif Central Survival Complex, under what was once the nation of France, Marc DuPont attempted to wipe stinging sweat from his eyes with a sleeve already saturated with perspiration.

He swore with frustration as salty sweat from the cloth stung his eyes and he complained to his mentor, Claude Morel, saying: "This heat is killing us."

Realising the uselessness of his outburst, Marc shook his head and guzzled down the last of his tepid water before continuing: "My head hurts, I'm getting dizzy, and my eyes are stinging from sweat. Surely, you must be feeling worse. We need to get you out of here before magma claims this cavern and us along with it."

Claude replied, croaking out words from a parched throat: "I feel close to collapsing from the heat, but I think the wall will hold a while longer. Let me give this camera a final check."

Claude gave the camera a last check as he spoke and viewed the satisfactory image it presented on his tablet, and from a dry throat, his voice rasped: "Okay! We're done here, let's get going."

The decision to leave cameras in this cavern would allow the geologist, Deborah Morel, (Claud's niece) to observe the wall as it failed from the growing volcanic heat and pressure that consumed it from behind.

The data it provided would be invaluable to Deborah and hopefully, give her the answers she needed to stop or delay destructive magma from claiming their home and the remaining survivors along with it.

Claude and Marc donned their backpacks and began the brisk walk along the paved roadway in complete darkness. The light from their small torches reflected off dimly glowing road markers and provided the only light. The path under their booted feet led to a sealed, blast-resistant doorway and connecting tunnel to their home. Their home was the last surviving cavern and supported the remaining French population under the Massif Central Highlands.

The entrance to the tunnel ahead became harder to see through the shimmering waves of increasing heat as the men slogged along. Both men shined their torches toward the distant cavern roof, where attachment points contained explosive charges in preparation for collapsing the ceiling of the entire farming cavern.

It was hoped that this act of destruction would delay the progress of magma toward the final human refuge. It would buy valuable time... Time to think of something... anything that would improve their chance of survival.

CRACK!... Claude and Marc jumped with fright and spun to face the wall to their rear, now hidden in the darkness behind them. Both expected to see blinding magma fountains blasting into the cavern from splits in the wall.

That expectation accompanied 'imagined' white-hot fluid and foreboding mental images of their bodies bursting into flame and suffering searing pain as the inrush of magma engulfed them.

Mental images gouged great furrows of fear through their minds, and the resulting shock momentarily froze muscles wasting vital seconds in a pregnant silence. The two men stared into each other's barely visible eyes, and both saw reflected fear showing a clear understanding of the inevitable horror that accompanied such sounds in this subterranean world.

As one, the pair turned and ran. Laboured breathing, the rustle of clothing, clinking of equipment and the slapping of booted feet against the paved road, was the only sounds in the vast darkness surrounding them.

Their fear escalated as the ground beneath them began to vibrate, and the wall growing distant to their rear began to emit crunching noises indicating that it was deteriorating due to increasing heat and pressure along its length. The men traded frightened expressions and ran faster as adrenalin energised tired muscles.