Ten miles ahead of the halted ape expeditionary force, on the far side of the demarcation that marked the beginning of the Forbidden Zone, seven human-shaped figures moved warily through a barren, rock-strewn valley. The landscape was bleak and colorless, wind-swept and choked with heat, its silence broken only by the crunch of their footsteps on loose gravel and the low howl of wind carving through the stone.
They had hoped to cross the valley before nightfall, to vanish into the safety of the high canyons beyond. But now they stood frozen, faces cast in stark relief against a surreal and terrifying sight: bizarre flames—unnatural, crackling, and alive—boiled in a rolling orange-red holocaust directly across their path. The inferno pulsed and licked at the desert air without fuel, dancing along the ground like liquid fire, completely sealing off the narrow throat of the valley that was their only way forward.
The group huddled behind a broad, sun-bleached boulder, its surface warm to the touch even in the shadow it provided. Waves of heat rolled past them in searing gusts, forcing each castaway to squint and shield their faces with grimy hands and tattered sleeves. The flames ahead danced with a strange intelligence, shifting from gold to crimson, boiling in place across the desert floor.
Steve wiped a streak of dust and sweat from his forehead and leaned forward. "There’s got to be a way through," he said, his voice steady but low, eyes locked on the fiery barrier.
Dan nodded, crouched beside him. "We didn’t come all this way to turn back now. It might be an illusion. Or something triggered by movement. Either way, we figure it out."
Betty squinted through a narrow gap in her fingers. “It’s not natural. Fire shouldn’t behave like that—just sitting there, boiling like water in a pot.” She looked at Steve. “Still… if there’s fire, there might be a pattern. A break. A weak spot.”
Mark studied the flames, brow furrowed. “Unless...."
Steve narrowed his eyes at the seething wall of fire and leaned back against the boulder, his face tense with thought. Then his expression shifted—sharp, alert, almost energized.
"You know something?" he said, loud enough for the others to hear but still low, cautious. "A thought just hit me. What if the fire—and the lightning too—they're not real? Illusions." He looked around at the others, his gaze steady. "It’s the Underfolk. It has to be. Just like in the subway tunnel… they scared the life out of us then, but that’s all it was—smoke and mirrors. Tricks. Nothing worse than that."
Fitzhugh scoffed, brushing sand from the sleeve of his jacket as if the entire desert had conspired to offend him personally. His face twisted into a look of exaggerated offense as he glanced sideways at the young cavegirl crouched near Betty.
“Well, what about her?” he said, flicking a dismissive hand in the girl’s direction. “Since our fearless leader wants to test a theory—one involving death by fire or vaporization, I believe—why not let her take the first stroll through the inferno? Seems only fitting. She’s native to this charming wasteland, after all.”
He turned to the others, wearing his most insufferable smirk. “Surely we wouldn’t want to risk anyone important, would we?”
Mark shot Fitzhugh a withering glance but didn’t dignify the remark with a response. Instead, he turned to the girl, who sat with wide eyes, clearly understanding more than any of them had given her credit for.
“She’s not a thing to be tested, Fitz,” Mark said quietly, then glanced around at the others. “Look, if she’s going to be with us—and it seems like she is—we can’t keep calling her ‘the girl’ or ‘cavegirl’ forever. We should give her a name.”
He looked back at her, softening his voice. “Something simple, something human. She deserves that much.”
Valerie smiled gently at the girl, brushing a loose strand of hair from her own forehead as she crouched beside her. There was a quiet kind of awe in her voice as she spoke.
"Nova," Valerie said, almost like a whisper. Then, louder, to the others: "I think we should call her Nova."
Fitzhugh rolled his eyes, but Steve looked intrigued. “Nova? Why that?”
Valerie glanced toward the distant, hazy horizon where the last light of the sun painted the sky in fading streaks of gold and crimson. “Because it means new. A new beginning. That’s what she is—for us, for herself. She’s the first real connection we’ve made to this world. And maybe... maybe she’s a sign that we can start over.”
Dan crouched down to her level, his voice soft but clear. “Hey there,” he said, trying to catch her gaze. “Do you like that name? Nova?”
The cavegirl blinked, then slowly nodded, a faint, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Dan turned back to the others with a slight grin. “Well, she seems to like it.”
Steve moved deliberately, one arm lifted to shield his face from the waves of heat pouring off the flames. His boots crunched over the gravel as he stepped out from behind the sheltering boulder, squinting through the shimmering wall of orange-red fire that boiled across the narrow gap in the rocky valley. His jaw was set, eyes narrowed with a mix of focus and tension. Every muscle in his body was taut, as though bracing for the worst—yet he didn’t stop.
Suddenly, Nova let out a low, distressed sound and lunged after him, panic flashing in her wide eyes. But before she could take more than a few steps, Betty reached out and caught her wrist, halting her with a firm but gentle grip.
“Easy,” Betty said softly, pulling the trembling girl back against her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Nova. Steve’s just testing something. We think the fire might not be real. Just an illusion.”
Nova looked between Betty and the flames, her breath catching as she trembled against Betty’s steady hold. The flames danced wildly ahead, but she stayed where she was, watching Steve inch closer to the wall of heat with a mixture of awe and dread.
Meanwhile, Steve had reached the line of flames and walked through it. Unscathed, he came back through the glare once more and walked back to his friends.
"C'mon, Nova," Steve said. "You'll come to no harm."
Nova reached for Steve's hand, and with fingers tightly entwined, he led her—and the others—step by step through the blazing wall of illusory fire. An eerie glow still lighted the sky above them, and for each hundred or so feet they walked, the earth shook violently. Frequently they were tumbled to the ground, but each time they rose and walked on, the frightened girl between them. Once, a thirty-foot-wide slash in the earth loomed before them, but they walked directly across it, steady and determined.
Dan crouched beside a sun-warmed boulder, wiping sweat from his brow, his expression clouded. “These flames… just like before, back in the tunnels. They’re trying to spook us. It’s the same trick.”
Mark leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “That would mean it is the Underfolk again. But why here? Why now? We’re not underground anymore.”
“They don’t want us reaching the ship,” Steve said, his tone flat with realization. “Something about the river, or what’s near it—maybe something more than just the Spindrift.”
Valerie looked around at the others, her brow knit in concern. “But what if it’s not just about keeping us from the ship? What if it’s about keeping themselves hidden?”
Betty nodded slowly. “You’re thinking they live under the Forbidden Zone.”
“Exactly,” Dan replied. “That ion-molecular collector—they might need to bring it up top sometimes, to charge, to drain heat or gather sunlight. And if anyone from the Above World sees that—”
“It compromises them,” Mark finished. “Their whole existence.”
Fitzhugh scoffed, though with less bite than usual. “Well, they’ve done a splendid job terrifying every poor soul this side of the wastelands. Honestly, I nearly fried in that heat.”
Nova stood silently behind them, wide-eyed, hugging her arms tightly to her chest as if remembering something—something she'd seen before.
Steve looked out across the smoldering valley. “They’re not trying to kill us. They’re just trying to keep their secrets.”
Valerie murmured, “Then we’re not just trespassers to them. We’re witnesses.”
Dan added grimly, “And witnesses are dangerous.”
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