The Last Hunter - Ascent (Book 3 of the Antarktos Saga) by Jeremy Robinson Page A

surface feels awful. That is, until the booming thunder rolls past, vibrating the ground beneath me. It’s like Behemoth has just fallen down next to me. The power in that rumble brings a smile to my face. I used to lie on my bed and watch thunderstorms, as they swept past and out to sea. I’ve missed them.
    After donning my sunglasses, I inch toward the surface. I’m sure I look like a fool—a long haired, Tarzan-like, bearded teenager wearing sunglasses. But unlike during my years in school, there will be no one around to point out my ridiculous state. As I near the end of the tunnel, light fills the sky again. I squint against the light, but the dark sunglasses take the edge off.
    Even with the cloud cover, when I step out of the tunnel, the daylight hurts. I close my eyes as I step out into the world. The first thing I notice is the land beneath my feet. It’s soft and squishy, like the remains of some dead creature. Through squinted eyes, I look down and see a dark goop pushing up between my toes.
    Mud.
    I crouch and scoop some of the soft earth into my hand. The grainy wetness feels similar to the insides of a centipede. I bring it to my nose and inhale slowly and deeply. The scent triggers memories. Playing in the back yard with Justin. Gardening with my mom. Exploring a swamp with my father.
    I wasn’t dreading the surface. I was dreading the memories a thawed Antarctica would bring. Just the smell of mud is potent enough to send me back in time. It’s not that I don’t want to remember, or that the memories are bad, it’s that they hurt. I’ve been here for more than twenty years, even though from my perspective it’s been closer to three. I can’t return to the life I knew. It’s gone for good and now, thanks to Nephil’s repositioning of the world, potentially destroyed. My parents could be dead. And if I give these things any attention, I will enter my own personal Slough of Despond.
    I flick the mud off my hand and stand up. My eyes slowly acclimate to the sunglass-darkened, cloud-dimmed daylight. I look up and find the world remade.
    Where a glacier once slid slowly into the ocean, there is now a lush, green valley. A variety of tall trees, few of which I recognize, cover the land. The barren, frozen dessert of Antarctica is now a thick, green jungle.
    How is this possible ? I think. Cronus said I’d been away for just three months. And my time in the deep underworld was brief. It couldn’t have added more than a few more weeks. These trees couldn’t have sprung up so quickly. This looks more like twenty years worth of growth!
    Have I been gone for another twenty years? My stomach twists at the idea. Not only would my parents certainly be dead, but the outside world would have been dominated by the Nephilim long ago. Em, Kainda and Luca will all be adults, if they’re even still alive.
    Don’t get distracted, I tell myself. You don’t have the answers. Stay out of the Slough.
    I step into the jungle, heading downhill to where Clark Station 2 once stood. The thick canopy of large leaves far above is a relief. It blocks out so much of the light that I’m able to take off my sunglasses. It’s almost like the underground, but above the ground. As my eyes continue to adjust, my senses that are unaffected by light, take in my surroundings. The smell of earthy decay reaches me first, and then the scent of animals, some familiar, some new. But there is no doubt that the denizens of the subterranean world now inhabit the surface. If the smell alone didn’t convince me, the sounds permeating the jungle would have. Though I have yet to see a living creature, I can hear them loud and clear. A crestie barks in the distance. Other creatures call out warnings as the hunt plays out. All around, I hear birds.
    There were no birds in the underworld, so where did they come from? I’ve read that birds can sense things like volcanic eruptions and earthquakes, just before they strike. The birds take to the sky.