Like the gorilla, the salamander was inconveniently fast for its size. Harold dove forward, launching himself at Helen, and rolled them out of harm's way. The salamander touched down with an almighty crash, which stirred up a huge cloud of dust. Harold looked up: the amphibian itself had disappeared among the haze of dust, but its tail came whipping out. He pushed Helen roughly aside just as the tail lashed out like a whip, batting him into the wall.

An "oomph!" of pain left him as his back slammed into the cold stone, and he slid to the ground. But there was something different about this hit. It wasn't the blunt force that had hurt; he reached up and his fingers gently probed the skin of his cheek.

A long laceration could be felt there, deep and tender, as if the tail had split the skin all the way down to the bone. There was no blood, but the wound was sizzling.

Another tremendous crash and a scream brought him back to reality. He grunted. The wound would take care of itself soon enough. With a roar of rage, he launched himself back into the battle. He approached the salamander from behind as its long, slimy tongue whipped out at his friends, who were only narrowly avoiding getting hit. Harold leapt to the wall and used his gathered momentum to run along the edges, then whipped around to face the Gargantuan's front, planting a kick against its snout. With a wailing shriek, it flew backwards into the wall.

"Your face," Jimmy began urgently as Harold joined them.

"No time!" Harold pushed Jimmy aside as the tail came soaring back into sight. He dodged the tip as it slapped downwards, cracking against the earthen track, and caught it by the length. He gave a huge tug, and the salamander rose into the air. Harold spun it around by the tail and slammed it into the wall so forcefully that rocks exploded from the point of impact, showering the floor, while great cracks cascaded up to the ceiling.

The salamander shrieked again, and this time the open vents on its back came alive: the liquid inside leapt like boiling water, and the creature opened its snout. Jets of what looked like green acid rocketed forward. They all took cover, but the balls of acid collided with the walls and burst like water-filled balloons, splashing the luminous fluid all over. Harold felt a few spots pepper his suit, but he didn't have time to focus on that. The salamander was charging again. It padded forward like some monstrosity, many legs working furiously, hissing in outrage.

Harold clenched his fist and pounded it into the stone at their feet: the ground ripped apart, tearing up slabs of rock that swept the salamander away like a tide of stone. The impact was so powerful that cracks ran up the wall again, this time so deep and long that they spread to the ceiling, and the stalactites above broke off and came charging down.

"Take cover!" Harold yelled. And the whole tunnel collapsed. Gigantic chunks of rock rained down upon them, coupled with the enormous spiked stalactites.

Harold could see Jimmy moving his arms frantically, creating a kind of wind barrier. Harold picked up one of the larger slabs of rock and held it above his head like a makeshift shield, feeling several brunt impacts piercing through as the stalactites struck. He caught one final wail from the salamander before it disappeared from sight. The last of the rocks fell. Then everything was silent once more.

After a few seconds, when he was sure that it was over, Harold tossed his cover away; it clattered on top of the rocks, with so many stalactites sticking out of it that it looked like some bizarre porcupine.

Devastation reigned around him. The entire path was destroyed, littered with the remains of what had been their ceiling only minutes ago, and a huge wall blocking off the other end of fhe tunnel. Harold couldn't see anyone else around.

"Jimmy! Helen!" he called, his voice echoing around the empty space. "Kierra! Ezra!"

There was a small wait. Then:

"I'm here!" Jimmy shouted. But his voice sounded distant. "Harold! Are you there?"

"I'm here! Where are you?"

"On the other side of the wall," said Jimmy, and Harold's heart sank. "Ezra and Helen are here too, but Helen was—she's in pretty bad shape."

"What?" Harold demanded, suddenly alarmed, scrambling towards the wall to hear better. "How bad?"

"I think some of that acid thing may have caught her," Jimmy said fearfully. "She's shaking, badly. And she's unresponsive."

"Did you get her a Medipill?"

"I already did."

"All right, stand back. I'm coming over—"

"No!" Jimmy and Ezra cried in unison.

"What? Why not?"

"The structure is too unstable," said Ezra. "If you hit it again, the whole thing might just come down and bury us."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Harold yelled in frustration.

A sudden groan crossed the air. He looked around, then noticed the rocks shifting in front of him. "Hang on, I'll be right back!" he called to Jimmy, and he began to leap across the rock until he was at the site of the disturbance. He thrust his fingers inside and began to claw at the rocks; he upended a huge slab, and Kierra came into view, slathered in dust and coughing profusely, her jumpsuit torn in several places.

"I found Kierra!" Harold yelled at the wall, helping her to her feet. "You okay?"

"No, I am not okay!" she said shrilly. "I just got attacked by a giant lizard!"

"Well, technically, salamanders aren't lizards, they're actually amphibians—not important, got it," he added as Kierra glared at him.

Kierra began to dust herself off. "What's going on?"

"Well, the salamander scarpered, and Jimmy, Helen, and Ezra are on the other side of that wall." Harold pointed at the huge obstruction separating the two groups. "But there's no way for us to get over there without bringing the entire thing down on top of them. And Helen's hurt. They think it was the salamander's toxin."

"Harold? You still there?"

"Yes, I'm here!"

"We have to evac, now. Helen needs medical attention, the pill isn't doing anything. We need to get her out of the mine now. You two find a way to meet us topside."

"Easier said than done," Harold muttered, but aloud he called, "All right, go! We'll be there as soon as we can!" He turned to Kierra. "You good to move?"

She nodded shakily, her blonde hair frizzled and dusty.

"Good. 'Cause we've got a long walk ahead."

Half an hour later, by Harold's count, they were still walking. They had picked their way out of the site of devastation and had made it onto an intact track. The floor was devoid of webbed footprints, and the ceiling clear of glowing amphibians, which was good enough for Harold. Neither of them had spoken much after parting ways with the others. Harold had wanted to ensure that they were completely clear of danger first; now, seeing as they were (at least for the time being) he said, "I've been meaning to ask."

Kierra looked at him, her expression disgruntled.

"What was all that back in Gym Class? Why did you go off on your own?"

"Is that really what's on your mind? Really? Right now?"

Harold swung his flashlight around deliberately. "Well, I don't see either an exit or our many-legged friend, so I don't see what's wrong with a little lighthearted conversation to pass the time."

"No," she said flatly. "Drop it."

He heaved an enormous fake sigh. "All right." They lapsed into silence again, broken only by the sound of their light footsteps along the path.

"Above you!"

Kierra screamed in terror, pointing her flashlight at the ceiling and looking around frantically. She stopped, however, when she heard Harold laughing. Kierra rounded on him with her face contorted in fury, her dust-covered, pale blonde hair bristling.

"That is not funny!"

"Agree to disagree," Harold said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "So, are we going to keep doing this, or do you want to talk?"

She glared at him furiously. If looks could kill, he would have keeled over right there. But she stomped her foot and walked off along the path, huffing. "Fine! I wanted to catch the ball myself so I could prove myself. Happy?" she spat.

"Prove yourself for what?"

"That I could be as good as you!" She blushed furiously as she said it, but her hardened expression did not waver. "You're known around the entire school for being as good as you are. Teachers love you, students envy you. I bet the other kids were thinking it was a sure win for our side since you were on my team. But I wanted to show them that I didn't need you to win, that I could pull my own weight, and—oh forget it! It's stupid!"

"I don't think so," Harold said earnestly. "We've all had moments like that."

"Oh please." She scoffed. "The great Harold Farwell, having moments where he feels like he's not enough? Even now, you just saved us all from that thing, didn't you?"

"That was different—"

"How?"

"Because I was trying to make up for something too," he said heatedly. She froze, looking stunned. Harold exhaled. "Four nights ago, on the mission we encountered the Blue Vipers, we found another one—another Gargantuan."

"Yeah, Girvan told us. A gorilla, wasn't it?"

Harold nodded. "And it was huge. Savage. Powerful. It kicked the crap out of me," he said. "And then we lost it."

Kierra was silent for a moment. Then she said, "That wasn't your fault."

"Whose else was it? I'm the idiot who jumped out when the monkey was threatening the Vipers."

"So you were supposed to let them die?" she said incredulously.

"Not necessarily. But could it have hurt?" Harold shrugged.

"That's a horrible take."

"Maybe."

"And there's still no guarantee that you would have defeated it anyway. You shouldn't beat yourself up over it—the gorilla already did that."

Harold shot her a dirty look. She was smiling. Then he gave a grudging laugh.

"Anyway," he went on, "this conversation is getting a little too touchy-feely for my taste."

"Agreed," Kierra said. "So, let's figure out a way to get out of here, shall we?"

"There's gotta be another cart somewhere around here." Harold looked around. Then he froze.

Kierra noticed. "What?" she said. "Have you spotted a track."

"Not a track," Harold said. "Light."

She stepped forward and peered ahead. A sliver of orange light was shining around the corner to their far left.

"Should we...?" Kierra began.

"Couldn't hurt," Harold said. "But keep your guard up, just in case."

She nodded, and they both set off towards the light. Like moths, Harold thought. Then he shook his head. It was such a random, stupid thought. Why was he thinking about moths?

They reached the corner. Harold pressed his finger to his lips and listened. He could hear voices, quiet but close. He listened for a while, trying to make out the words, but he caught nothing.

"All right, there's at least two of them around the—" he whispered, but he never got a chance to finish. Before he could get the words out, he felt something press harshly into the side of his neck, then a powerful shock ran through his body. He heard Kierra scream as though from a distance, caught a glimpse of her terrified face, and then he fell, convulsing. Another scream rang out and Kierra fell beside him. Then a face loomed over Harold, quite familiar, like the voice that next spoke.

"I remember you. You're the one that had the little sparring match with my friend, Gregor. An Enhanced. Which explains why you're still conscious." He held up something, a large black device that crackled with electricity, and surveyed it fondly. "I bought this little toy to...discipline Gregor, and others like him. But I suppose it works well enough on you as well." He shrugged and brought down the point of the device, and Harold was engulfed by pain.

His skin was on fire. His every nerve was screaming out in agony. Then everything went black.

Harold stirred. He could hear something, a voice crooning nearby, as if singing a lullaby. Something brushed his face. He felt groggy, but slowly he came back to himself. And then he registered a sharp pain in his cheek. Someone had slapped him.

"Good, you're awake," said the man with the accent, the same man who had wanted to sell the gorilla four nights ago. He was tall, fair-haired, and round-jawed, with piercing blue eyes.

Harold only just realized where his accent originated from. He was British. He wondered how he didn't see it before.

"I was going to kill you," the man said casually. "But not just yet. I need you to answer a few questions for me first."

"If you're going to kill me anyway, why would I tell you anything?" Harold said, looking at the man in disbelief.

"Because, while I am most certainly going to kill you, I may not necessarily have to kill her." He gestured at Kierra, who was bound some feet away on the ground, by the feet of two other men, still unconscious.

"If you talk, I may just let her go. If you displease me, on the other hand. Well..." He struck up his taser again. "I wouldn't displease me, if I were you. Do we have an understanding?"

Very slowly, glaring at him all the while, Harold nodded.

"Good." The man plunged the taser into his chest. Harold screamed aloud, his voice echoing horribly in the cavernous tunnel. The man pulled away.

"What—was that—for?" Harold gasped. "I—I said I'd cooperate!"

"Oh I'm so sorry," the man said, smiling. "Unfortunately for you, I think I have a rather good picture of your abilities now. Upon seeing this, and your fight with Gregor, it's plain that you possess enhanced strength, and a powerful healing factor. So I can't let you remain here unscathed and risk you recovering enough to break out, can I?" He laughed. "You understand?"

Harold merely scowled.

"You do, excellent. Except that, though. Quite nasty." He touched Harold's face, and it was only then that Harold realized that the wound caused by the salamander's tail still hadn't healed. Yet he couldn't feel it.

"So, what's your name, son?"

"Eric," Harold lied.

"You may call me Alden for ease of conversation. Now, Eric, would you mind telling me what you and your friends were doing here?"

"We were investigating the mines. We got a report that there was suspicious activity going on here."

"Who did you receive this report from'?"

"I don't know," Harold said. "I never got any names. Just money."

"Ah, a mercenary, are you?" Alden said. "At your age?"

Harold shrugged. "A boy's gotta eat."

Alden smiled in understanding, then thrust the taser at Harold again. "You're lying," he hissed. "What did I tell you about displeasing me, Eric?"

Harold remained silent, his chest heaving.

"Next question: you met the creature earlier, didn't you? The salamander?"

"Yes," Harold snarled.

"Magnificent, wasn't it?"

"Not really the word I'd use to describe a monster, but, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, I guess," Harold said witheringly.

"You have no idea, my boy. In fact, it's not just me. You wouldn't believe how many people desire such creatures. Like my little furry friend, Gregor. Escaped because of you, but still wonderful."

"You named the gorilla 'Gregor'?"

"Bless him, he hasn't been seen since," said Alden, who was plainly not listening to a word Harold said. "But I have a new priority now. We stumbled upon this mine recently, and found her: Mira."

"Is there a reason that you keep giving the monsters these ridiculous names—wait, that thing was a girl?" Harold asked.

Alden hit him with the taser again.

"I name all of my pets," he continued conversationally. "Such incredible creatures need names. And you wouldn't believe how many people agree with my position."

"So that's it? You find the monsters and you sell them? To who?"

"Anyone and everyone who wants them." Alden shrugged. "What they do with them afterwards is not my concern."

"So there are more of them, then?"

"There could be. Believe me, we are looking. The demand rate is quite impressive. My previous buyer was very disappointed when I failed to deliver Gregor. I came here after I heard rumours that something lurked within the tunnels, to offer in Gregor's stead. So far we have yet to apprehend Mira. She is very...slippery, as you may have seen. She has killed two of my men so far. Her toxins are quite gruesome. I see you've been hit as well."

He indicated patches of blue fluid all over Harold's suit.

"Intriguing. It seems you were protected by the suit. I can assure you, Eric, that you are very lucky indeed. Had even a drop of toxin come into contact with your skin, you would have been struck with hours of nightmarish pain."

"So it's only deadly in higher concentrations," Harold said, thinking of Helen and feeling mildly relieved.

"If the infected person is strong enough to endure the pain, then yes." He tased Harold again. "Hmm...I have a different idea. We are as yet unable to secure Mira...but you could." He looked thoughtful. "Here's an idea. Instead of killing you, how about I offer you a deal instead? You capture Mira for me, and I will let you and your friend leave this mine unharmed. What do you say?"

He smiled at Harold, holding up the taser like a white flag. Harold looked at the men behind him; both were armed with the same rifles from before, but none of them had tasers.

"Pass," Harold said. He saw the smile fade from Alden's face, saw fury overtake it. Alden raised the taser and brought it down, moving forward with the motion, and Harold moved at the same time. He headbutted the man so hard that he flew backwards. His lackeys stirred into motion, but Harold ripped off the chains that they had used to bind him and darted towards them. The bullets ricocheted off his chest as he advanced, then he swatted the guns out of their hands and knocked them down.

Harold grabbed Kierra, and started for the exit tunnel.

But then he heard it. A horrible, gurgling shriek, and the thuds of many legs.

"Oh crap."

The salamander burst through the tunnel and into the room, charging right at Harold. He kicked off from the ground and jumped over it, landing near the base of the tunnel through which she had entered. She hissed in fury, but her attention was caught by Alden, who had stood up and opened fire on her. Each bullet pierced her slippery hide, slopping rivulets of blood onto the floor. Harold almost felt bad for her, at the sound of her screams of agony, but then she began to thrash around. The force of her impacts shook the tunnel, sending cracks spiraling along the walls. Harold didn't need to be an architect to tell what was about to happen.

Jets of acid erupted from Mira's mouth, dousing all three of the men. They screamed in anguish, thrashing around on the floor as if trying to extinguish flames. Harold wanted to run, but turning his back on the Gargantuan seemed the stupidest thing he could do while she was looking at him like that.

Before he could react, she spat again.

The stream of fluid raced towards him—then Jimmy dropped out of nowhere, landing in front of him. The air currents whirled around them to form a semitransparent barrier, and the toxin ricocheted off. Then Jimmy responded with a forward slashing movement. A gust of wind erupted through the room and flung the salamander into the wall, and the whole thing started coming down.

"Come on!" Jimmy grabbed hold of Harold and whipped up the air beneath them, shooting them upwards and out of the tunnel as the whole structure collapsed.

They soared along, riding the air like an invisible vehicle, while the ceiling crumbled behind them. Then they burst out into the night as the sound of the mine completely collapsing filled their ears.