Chapter 17

           Theimpactwiththehard-packedearthoftheplainknocksthewindoutofme.Mybackpackdoeslittletosoftentheblow.Fortunatelymyquiverhascaughtinthecrookofmyelbow,sparingbothitselfandmyshoulder,andmybowislockedinmygrasp.Thegroundstillshakeswithexplosions.Ican’thearthem.Ican’thearanythingatthemoment.Buttheapplesmusthavesetoffenoughmines,causingdebristoactivatetheothers.Imanagetoshieldmyfacewithmyarmsasshatteredbitsofmatter,someofitburning,raindownaroundme.Anacridsmokefillstheair,whichisnotthebestremedyforsomeonetryingtoregaintheabilitytobreathe.

           Afteraboutaminute,thegroundstopsvibrating.Irollonmysideandallowmyselfamomentofsatisfactionthesightofthesmolderingwreckagethatwasrecentlythepyramid.TheCareersaren’tlikelytosalvageanythingoutofthat.

           I’dbettergetoutofhere,Ithink.They’llbemakingabeelinefortheplace.ButonceI’monmyfeet,Irealizeescapemaynotbesosimple.I’mdizzy.Nottheslightlywobblykind,butthekindthatsendsthetreesswoopingaroundyouandcausestheearthtomoveinwavesunderyourfeet.

           Itakeafewstepsandsomehowwinduponmyhandsandknees.Iwaitafewminutestoletitpass,butitdoesn’t.

           Panicbeginstosetin.Ican’tstayhere.Flightisessential.ButIcanneitherwalknorhear.Iplaceahandtomyleftear,theonethatwasturnedtowardtheblast,anditcomesawaybloody.HaveIgonedeaffromtheexplosion?Theideafrightensme.