Jason gasped, his heart pounding. He weaved between trees and leaped over a body mound in the darkness. F’faron moved like his shadow, silent and at his heels. The critter staggered slightly with the weight of Flint’s backpack across his back, unable to move with the same grace he had when unburdened.

  Teeth howled behind him, but lighter footsteps off to the side gave him pause.

  Jason grabbed F’faron, forcing him to stop. F’faron stared at Jason in a panic.

  The recalled screams and gunfire from the camp echoed in his memory; Jason dashed toward the sound of the second set of steps. He bellowed as he barreled into a startled man and slammed him against a tree. Even in the low light, Jason recognized Billy.

  Around Jason’s age, Billy had been the one who caught F’faron.

  Billy tried to turn his hunting rifle on Jason, but he caught the weapon in a two-handed grip and roared as he slammed the man against the tree again. The air left Billy’s lungs, and Jason tried to rip the rifle from his hands.

  The rifle discharged into the woods, lighting their struggle with a hot flash of fire.

  Billy jerked the rifle, but both men held it firm.

  Heavy loping footfalls thudded behind Jason, and he hissed as he dropped and twisted the rifle.

  Refusing to let go, Billy was pulled in a half circle just as the tooth tore into him.

  Billy screamed, and Jason dropped, the rifle free in his hands. The tooth bit into Billy's neck. The blood appeared black in the darkness. Jason rolled over, pointing the rifle at the tooth’s face, and pulled the trigger.

  No click, no bang.

  Jason went cold as the tooth looked up at him, its face hidden in shadow. He scanned the rifle, finding the bolt on the side. Although he had trained with automatic weapons, he had no muscle memory for bolt-action hunting rifles.

  Jason cycled the bolt. The tooth lunged. Fire lit up its twisted face. A rake of hot pain blossomed across Jason’s chest, and a crushing weight buried him.

  "Jason, give us cover!" Arthur barked.

  Jason, seventeen years old, froze, but only momentarily. The only thing that scared him more than the men shooting in his direction was the man giving him orders.

  Jason peeked around the corner and opened fire at the muzzle flashes behind the crumbling wall. He fired without purpose, planting bullets near the enemy so they would take cover.

  Arthur, Jacob, and a handful of other contractors darted from their cover, clearing ground and getting closer to their enemy.

  Jason prayed that it could end. The men on the other side dissolved into chaos as they saw the enemy gaining ground.

  Jason's magazine ran dry, so he quickly fed his weapon another, dropped the bolt, and continued firing.

  He wasn't aiming at them, just in their general direction, close enough to discourage them from returning fire. While he reloaded, two of the enemy popped up to fire at the advancing contractors. Jason watched as the bullets of his second barrage tore into them, dropping them behind their cover. Only a handful of them were actually soldiers; the rest were just armed villagers. They didn't stand a chance against the professionals.

  Jason stopped firing and closed his eyes as the contractors flanked the villagers and cut them down with a spray of gunfire. This was hell.

  “Jay-son!” F’faron tore chips of clay away from Jason’s eye.

  Jason gasped, but an oppressive weight pressed his lungs. Clay climbed back up the side of his face where F’faron had pulled it away as Ash tried to consume him.

  Jason thrashed and kicked, grunting as he tried to worm out from under the limp tooth and carnivorous mud. “No!” he hissed, refusing to be buried alive. “You can’t eat me. I’m still breathing, damn it!”

  He tensed, shoving the beast’s corpse, rolling it off enough to snake his legs out.

  Jason staggered to his feet, panting. He snatched the hunting rifle where it fell beside the newly forming considerable body mound.

  A shriek from the rest of the tooth pack shocked Jason, and he rushed over to Billy, who was rapidly being swallowed by Ash. He fumbled a snap-away pouch of bullets from the corpse and froze as he looked at Billy’s lifeless face.

  It was happening again. Flashes of his time in Africa forced their way into his mind. Billy’s eyes gaped wide and sightless, a frozen expression of horror. Forced by his dire situation, Jason had done it again. He had done what his dad taught him to do. In the past, Arthur had given the orders, and Jason followed. This was different. Jason wasn't a kid fighting in an African proxy war. The man he’d just killed had captured and fed innocent people to the teeth. Nevertheless, Billy’s blank face etched itself in his mind.

  Jason shook his head as he continued, focusing on the moment he popped the snaps on the bullet pouch.

  “Let’s go!” Jason rasped, and he turned away from the sounds.

  The teeth howled as they gained ground behind Jason. He glanced back, but the shrieks echoed through the dark forest. He also risked running into dangerous survivors in the dark, but he dismissed that threat in light of the literal pack of demons behind him.

  The sound of running water in the darkness ahead pricked Jason's ears, and he smelled sulfur in the air. Jason pulled his phone from his pocket; he had found it in the lodge. He switched on the built-in flashlight and slowed down as he approached a sudden drop-off.

  The bright beam of his flashlight reflected off the deep, rushing water. Steam wafted off the river, and sulfur lingered in the air. He checked his battery. With forty-eight hours left, it was almost empty. It usually held a month's worth of charge.

  The shriek behind him spun him around, and he shined his light back the way they came. Vague shadows darted toward him, but their eyes gleamed, reflecting the glint of his flashlight.

  A yellow light flashed in the sky some miles away, bringing another unfortunate morsel to the planet.

  Jason dropped his backpack and looked at the black surging water.

  "Ready for a swim?" he asked F'faron.

  The critter looked at the water, clearly worried.

  "Take off the backpack," Jason said. "It will only drag you down."

  Teeth shrieked, shadowy figures materializing into looping apelike beasts.

  Jason grabbed the pack, and F'faron resentfully let Jason drop it to the ground.

  Jason pocketed his phone and held his rifle to his chest. "Let's go!"

  Jason took two lumbering steps before leaping into the surprisingly warm river.

  Jason turned and spun before kicking his way back to the surface. Water soaked his shoes and dragged at his feet.

  A lighter splash sounded behind him as his furry companion also plunged.

  The river swept them away, and the water grew uncomfortably hot. More steam and an aggressive stench of sulfur wafted through the air in the dim moonlight. The river hauled them away from their teeth, crying out in outrage as they lost the scent of their quarry.

  "F'faron!" Jason gasped, choking on river water laced with the scent of metallic rotten eggs.

  F'faron came up gasping and gagging. Jason thrashed and kicked over to the critter, his shoes and rifle slowing him down.

  Luckily, F'faron seemed able to swim, but being lighter, the rapids threatened to rip him away.

  “F’faron! Jason gasped, extending the rifle, and F'faron snatched it. The two pulled themselves together, and the rapids evened out.

  The river pulled them along for what felt like miles, sometimes growing so shallow that it reached Jason's waist but mostly carrying them high enough that Jason's feet couldn't touch the ground. In the calmer waters, Jason rode it out, floating on his back.

  Jason was tempted to get out on the other side, but he studied both banks as the lazy current carried them downstream. Could teeth swim? He hoped the sulfur would hide his scent, but scanned the bank for teeth. Their blood call grew more distant the further they let the river take them, so Jason kicked them further downstream rather than going to shore so close to where they escaped the beasts.

  A contributory stream forked into the main river, dropping the water temperature. Jason's teeth rattled as he struggled to stay afloat. They endured the water for another twenty minutes before Jason started kicking toward the opposite shore.

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  The two emerged from the water, sopping wet. As chilled as the water had gotten, the wind was much colder.

  Jason shivered and held the soaking rifle forward. With only his rifle, phone, and odd companion, Jason couldn't help but feel that if they managed to shake the teeth for now. He didn't intend to allow the predators to close the gap.

  F'faron asked Jason something in his language, and Jason was struck by how youthful the creature’s voice was.

  "What are we going to do now?" Jason guessed. "We head inland and then make camp. We can't stay on the shore, or the teeth will find us, and every step we travel will risk exposing us to other threats, so we just need to find a decent shelter.”

  F'faron stared at Jason blankly. "I'm talking to myself, not you!" Jason snapped, realizing how stupid he must look, talking to an anthropomorphic fox that couldn't understand him.

  Jason led the way, both of them shivering, and they looked for shelter. They only got a few hundred meters before he found himself shaking so violently that he doubted whether he could shoot a target point-blank.

  Jason stopped at a fallen tree, laced with burn scars, that blocked at least a portion of the wind.

  "Here," he said. Jason stripped down and wrung whatever water he could out of his clothes. He built a nest of feathery leaves and nestled down as fatigue took its toll.

  "F'faron," Jason said, and the critter perked up, recognizing his name. "Take shelter, but tell me if you smell anyone coming, okay?"

  F'faron looked at him blankly. Jason's eyes felt heavy. Wet, they risked hypothermia if they stayed in the wind. Jason considered making a fire but didn't have the means. Maybe he could make a bow drill? But he risked attracting attention if he had a fire, and attention killed on Ash.

  F'faron curled into a ball next to Jason and leaned against him, sharing a bit of body heat. Jason nodded appreciatively.

  Without even taking a moment to admire the golden aurora light as it started to snake across the night sky, he fell fast asleep.

  Jason woke up damp and sticky. The humidity near the running river was thick enough to taste. It was still dark, but there was a flicker of light in the distance—firelight.

  Jason pulled himself up with a groan. His legs flared in agony, and he was unaccustomed to the running he had forced upon himself. Jason shook F'faron awake.

  Jason held up a finger to signal silence, and F'faron made no indication that he understood the gesture.

  Jason pointed to the fire, and the critter's eyes widened in comprehension.

  Jason grabbed his rifle and checked the magazine. A laugh from the area by the fire sounded, and Jason squatted low.

  Who was it? Another survivor? Another community of killers, wildmen, or hostiles? The more Jason thought about it, the more he realized he had no reason to expect friendly residents, but the fire drew him like a moth. What if that fire had been made by Flint and Nana? A highly illogical thought, as they would have had to cross the river like him, but his exhaustion didn't allow for solid reasoning. If it were Flint, he'd have to make contact.

  He gathered his damp clothes, shouldered his rifle, and, recalling his lessons from a different lifetime, Jason started toward the fire, practically in his underwear. F'faron followed.

  Jason chambered a round, then stole forward, slowly, quietly, advancing foot by foot, then stopping, watching, waiting. F'faron much more naturally disappeared into the darkness.

  The closer he got, the easier it was for him to distinguish the voices. Jason stopped when he realized he didn't recognize any of them. Deciding he had gotten close enough, a sudden movement to his right made him lift his rifle and spin, bringing it to bear on another man who had a wooden longbow with an arrow knocked at the ready.

  How had Jason missed him?

  "Put the gun down," the man croaked with worry, eyeing the weapon in surprise.

  "I don't want to use this," Jason said. "But I will if I need to. Lower your weapon, and I'll do the same."

  The man thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement.

  Jason slowly lowered the barrel, and the man eased the tension in the bow.

  "Who are you?" Jason asked, taking the initiative and relieved that this stranger wasn't a raving beast or a wild man. The man wore a dirty golf shirt with a blue band sewn into a sleeve and a knife sheathed at his waist. The man’s curly blond hair twisted into a mess, and he sprouted the early stages of a beard.

  "Aiden," the man replied. "You?"

  "Jason," Jason responded.

  "What are you doing on this side of the river?" Aiden asked suspiciously.

  "We were running away from some teeth; we were cornered, so we crossed the river," Jason said.

  "We?" Aiden asked in surprise. "You're alone."

  "F'faron," Jason whispered into the darkness.

  "Jay-son," F'faron said as he dropped from the tree.

  Aiden barked and spun, drawing his bow again.

  "Woh!" Jason cried. "It's okay, he's with me."

  "You—the critter is with you?" Aiden asked in surprise.

  "Yeah," Jason said. "And I swear if you try to eat him— "

  "Oh no," Aiden said, eyeing F'faron again. "I've just been trying to recruit a critter myself for some time."

  "Recruit?" Jason asked.

  "How long have you been on Ash?" Aiden asked.

  "Two days," Jason said.

  Aiden gave both of them a long, evaluative look. "Are you hungry?"

  Jason's stomach churned, answering for him.

  "Why should we trust you?" Jason asked. "Everyone we've met has either tried to kill us or eat us."

  Aiden shrugged. “I know this place is horrible, but not everybody is a killer.”

  "I've heard that being together in groups attracts teeth," Jason said.

  "We should be fine with just the three of us," Aiden said. “Four to five is the danger zone.”

  "Is that your camp?" Jason asked, gesturing towards the fire. "And isn't it a little bit vulnerable?"

  "Aren't you a little bit vulnerable?" Aiden asked, raising an eyebrow at Jason's near-total nakedness.

  “Clothes are wet," Jason growled through chattering teeth.

  Aiden chuckled silently. "Jason, I've been here three months; I haven't survived this long by sitting in the firelight. The campfire's a decoy."

  "Who's over there?" Jason asked as a fresh bout of laughter came from the fire.

  "It's a recording on a phone." Aiden smiled. "I was trying to lure out any possible critters in the area."

  "Why?" Jason asked.

  "Because—let's get to shelter, shall we?" Aiden asked. "This isn't the best place to have this discussion."

  Jason finally consented, following after Aiden while still in his underwear for about a quarter mile, where they stopped under a stone overhang made of slate greystone.

  No fire warmed the shelter, but the ledge overhead blocked nearly all the wind.

  Aiden produced a bag made of a tied-off shirt full of small, hard yellow berries. "Dig in," he invited, popping one of the fruits.

  "Are they safe?" Jason asked.

  "Safe? Yes. Delicious? Hardly. They're not ripe, but my farm is new, so I have to eat what I can get."

  "You have a farm?" Jason asked in surprise; the idea of someone accepting that they were stuck on Ash made Jason sick.

  "You answer me this first," Aiden said. "You have a gun. Did you bring it with you when you were snatched?"

  Jason shook his head and accepted one of the berries only after he watched Aiden eat two more. "I took it from a camp upriver and on the other side." Jason popped the berry in his mouth. The fruit was tart and pulpy, like an unripe cranberry. Jason’s face twisted in disgust.

  Aiden's eyes glimmered. "Beau's camp?"

  Jason felt a tinge of panic, and Aiden clearly read it. "Don't worry, Beau is no friend of mine. I tried recruiting his people once, mostly for the guns, but they were perfectly content without me. Their method of sacrificing survivors is vile."

  "They're all dead now," Jason said. "A whole pack of teeth moved in and wiped them out."

  Aiden paled as he heard the news. "A whole pack? That must mean the Wolf of Ash took them out.” He stared off into the distance, considering the matter, then turned sharply to Jason. “Why would he do that?”

  “Wolf of Ash?” Jason asked.

  Aiden nodded. “Ash’s personal hitman.”

  “This planet has a hitman?”

  Aiden nodded. “He’s a deadly fanatic. I’ve been trying to recruit critters to help oppose people like him.”

  Jason didn't have answers, only more questions: "What do you mean by recruitment?" Jason asked. "It's not the first time you've said it."

  Aiden perked up. "I have a little—ah—community of my own here," Aiden said. "We call ourselves Rain; we're here to save as many people as possible and find a way home if we can."

  Jason instantly thought back to Flint's jumpstarter and its ability to move them between planets—if he could find light ice. Flint had found and stuffed the jumpstarter into his backpack in Beau’s camp. If they could bring others home and save them, they absolutely should. He opened his mouth to tell Aiden he could get him back to earth but stopped.

  He still didn't have any reason to trust Aiden. What if Aiden hunted Flint for the jumpstarter once he knew its existence? If Ash had taught Jason anything, it was to be guarded.

  "Why are you saving people.?" Jason asked instead.

  Aiden sighed. "I am a police officer, or I was, anyway, until I was snatched here. Saving people is just what I do."

  "If you have a community, wouldn't that attract teeth?" Jason asked.

  Aiden smiled. "We found a place where teeth don't come. It's safe; we just don't have enough food to mass recruit.”

  "Hence the farm?" Jason asked.

  Aiden nodded, "I'm looking for light ice. Good food won't grow unless planted on a crystal called light ice."

  Jason froze. "What did you say?"

  "Good food doesn't grow unless you plant it on ice."

  "Ice?" Jason said. "Like glowing gemstones?"

  "Yeah," Aiden sat up excitedly. "Do you know where I can find some?"

  "No," Jason said, "But you have ice?" The one missing element that could get them home.

  "Only a little bit." Aiden said regretfully, "I'm actually on this side of the river to find Prince; he hordes that stuff."

  "Will he give me some?" Jason asked, sitting straighter. "My brother and I really need some."

  Aiden regarded Jason oddly. "Why?" he asked.

  "Because …"Jason restrained himself from saying too much. "So we can grow food."

  Aiden studied Jason for a little too long.

  "I'll tell you what. If you can help me get light ice from Prince, you can come and join Rain,” Aiden said.

  Jason thought about it for a moment.

  "Why do you need help? Will it be hard?"

  Aiden laughed. "Hard and dangerous. Tell me, have you heard of Prince Okoro?"

  Jason thought about it. "Prince Okoro—You mean the Nigerian warlord?" Jason asked in surprise. “Like, from Earth?”

  Aiden smiled and nodded.

  "I thought his people assassinated him," Jason said, recalling the news. That would have been, what, some five months back.

  "As fate would have it, he was not killed, but snatched to Ash."

  Of course he was. If Jason wasn't mistaken, his dad had once smuggled industrial 3D weapon printers to Prince Okoro. It was exactly the type of job Arthur would do. If there was a rogue warlord in a third-world country and money to be made, chances are Arthur had been involved.

  "Yeah, that doesn't sound like a good idea," Jason muttered.

  "I know," Aiden confessed. "Convincing him to tell us where to get it won't be easy, especially as he is in the middle of a territory war with the critters."

  "What are critters?" Jason asked. "I mean, I know what they are, but what are they? How long have they been here?"

  Aiden took a deep breath. "On Ash, there are several snatch zones. Those are places where people get pulled to feed Ash. On the other side of the river is the Earth zone; this side is the critter's zone."

  "So where do they come from?" Jason asked.

  "Hard to say; their own world? On the other side of the Earth Zone is the Third Jericho Zone, where people from Third Jericho are snatched."

  "How many zones are there?" Jason asked.

  "I only know of those three, but Ash itself is a big island, and the three zones I mentioned don't even take up half of it. Of course, there is also the Bowl in the center of Ash."

  "What is that?" Jason asked.

  "It's where the acolytes go. No one ever gets snatched into the Bowl, but the place is infested with teeth."

  "And an acolyte is—?"

  "Right, there is an acolyte in charge of each zone. They have paranormal abilities, and they control the teeth. If Beau's encampment was destroyed, The Earth's acolyte was behind it. The Earth acolyte is the Wolf of Ash; rumor is that he killed the last acolyte and took his position. As far as I've heard, no one else has killed an acolyte."

  Jason laughed dryly. Why not? Monsters, wildmen, supervillains; the more he learned about this place, the more it manifested as a nightmare.

  "So what do you say, Jason? Do you want to help me convince a Nigerian warlord to share his wealth with us?"

  Jason snorted. "Nope."

  Aiden laughed. "Smart."

  "When we get it, do I get to keep some for myself?" Jason asked.

  Aiden blinked in surprise. "I thought you said—"

  "Of course, I don't want to, but I need some ice, so I'll do it. But we must do it quickly; I need to find my brother."

  Aiden smiled.

  "So, Aiden. What's the plan?"

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