The roaring surf laps hungrily at my ankles. Just a few more feet until I’ll be out of the water’s reach. Finally I can’t feel the water, but I can hear it angrily pounding the sand behind me, roaring in protest of my escape. I don’t know where I am, and I just barely remember the exhausted boy who flops onto the sand beside me. James. That’s his name. And I’m DG, which is short for Donia Genevieve. I lie down and let the warm sand cushion my body. I slowly stretch out my right hand and feel something cool, hard, and smooth. I look up in surprise at a white sign that appears to be made of bones. Dried red letters drip eerily down the smooth surface in a bone-chilling way that reminds me of blood. The sign’s message is enough to turn my blood into ice. I ask James to reread it.

            “Welcome to Tartarus, where natural law is the only law and your best chance to stay alive is to run.”

A scream that would have made even the braves man run in terror cuts like a knife through the humid air.

            “It did say to run,” I say, my voice trembling with newly found strength.

Adrenaline lends speed and strength to our exhausted bodies as we race off into the dark jungle.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!