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only as a substantial chunk of the chamber’s roof fell； as Lorenzo danced out of its way and a dozen
orks were crushed； that he realised what he’d been doing： drawing his foes to him； bunching them
together； setting them up for a fate no man could have predicted… could he？
Dust billowed black around him； rubble made his footing treacherous； and the last of the lanterns
toppled from its high perch； smashed and died。 The only light now came from the lava—and
Lorenzo almost plunged into it as； scrambling to find the warboss； he slid on a layer of scree。 Then
the earth cracked again； and suddenly the molten stream had a hundred narrow tributaries； crazing
the cavern floor。 Lorenzo vaulted them two at a time； he knew where he was going； almost as if he
could sense his prey’s ponderous； one…legged footsteps through the ground itself。
There he was—stranded on an island； only one guard left at his side； the lava flows around him
thin and shallow but impassable to one with his disability。 As Big Green saw Lorenzo； his eyes
widened with fear and hatred； and he yelled and gesticulated to his guard； ordering it to lay itself
down as a bridge for him。 The ork signalled its refusal by swiping at the warboss’ neck with its axe；
evidently； loyalty had its limits； especially when an ork sensed that its leader’s day was done。
But Big Green had earned his position for a reason。 Some warbosses had been known to go toe
to toe with Space Marines。 Displaying the same lightning reflexes with which he’d met the Jungle
Fighters’ first attack upon him； the warboss caught the axe’s blade between both hands； a centimetre
from his slavering sneer； and twisted the weapon right out of his startled guard’s hands。
Lorenzo was firing frantically—but like the orks； he found his shots knocked astray； the warboss
had his traitor guard by the neck； had wrenched its arm up behind its back； and was pushing it down；
and it looked like he was about to get his bridge after all； so Lorenzo sprang for the warboss’ back。
He timed his leap just right； to benefit from an upsurge beneath his feet； Big Green whipped
around and swung his giant axe； but Lorenzo was higher than he could have expected； and the blade
passed beneath his feet—and then he was on the warboss’ shoulders； and he plunged his knife into
the ork’s eye and tried to work its point up into his brain。
Big Green howled and threw back his arms； trying to swat the Jungle Fighter from his back。
Lorenzo held on as long as he could； but between the warboss and the quake it was like trying to
straddle three grox at once。 He pulled his knife free and jumped before he could be thrown； landing
nimbly on his feet。
He parried an axe thrust with his knife； and simultaneously kicked out at the warboss’ injured
leg； making him howl again。 But Big Green didn’t fall。 He barely even flinched—and Lorenzo had
been counting on at least a momentary respite to drop back into a defensive position。 The axe blade
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whistled toward him again； and the flat of its blade struck a resounding blow against his wrist；
splintering bones； and his knife flew out of his grasp。
It was spinning towards the lava； and Lorenzo leapt after it without thinking； dropping his
lasgun； catching the knife with his off…hand in midair； twisting to avoid a scalding death himself。 He
landed on his back； winded as the ground rose up to meet him。 The warboss lunged； and Lorenzo
barely brought up a foot in time； tried to kick the warboss away； but the ork batted it aside。 Then he
was on Lorenzo； the sharp points of his tusks almost touching the Catachan’s face； dripping drool
onto his cheek and blood from his punctured eye； and Big Green’s axe haft was pressed down across
Lorenzo’s throat； crushing his windpipe。
All Lorenzo could do was take that haft himself； try to force it upwards； away from him； but the
warboss was too strong； and he could feel the breath being choked out of him。 His lungs were
empty； burning； and his head felt light。 He held on； because every fraction of a second he could keep
Big Green here dealing with him was a further delay to the warboss’ escape。 Lorenzo may have
failed to kill this monster； but he could be the hero who engaged it in single combat； kept it trapped
long enough for the earthquake to finish it。 A forlorn hope； he realised。
Then； suddenly； the pressure on his throat was released； and Lorenzo tried to see what was
happening； but without him knowing it his eyes had closed and he couldn’t open them because they
were prickling with tears and his entire body was preoccupied with just trying to breathe。 His
stomach convulsed as he heaved in air； and spluttered on its gritty texture。
By the time he could look again； he knew what he would see： Sergeant Greiss； wrestling with
the warboss。 Greiss had landed a few good blows； too—the warboss had a livid scar on his cheek to
add to the one Lorenzo had left across his eye。 But he was fighting on； as if nothing would ever stop
him。
Lorenzo’s legs were too weak to stand； so he contented himself with hitting his opponent low；
the combination of his efforts and Greiss’； and Big Green’s missing foot； flooring the big ork again。
They piled on top of him； fists and knives flying； but they couldn’t still his axe—and its blade
swung and impacted with Greiss’ head； cleaving his miner’s helmet in two； cutting into his scalp
and； with a resounding clang； hitting the metal plate just below the surface。 Greiss fell back； blood
matting his grey hair as Lorenzo used the momentum of the warboss’ swing against him； and with a
tremendous； last…ditch heave； tipped and rolled him into one of the narrow streams。 The ork leader
was facedown in the lava but still thrashing； and Lorenzo placed his good hand on the back of the
warboss’ head and； releasing a strangulated roar of utter hatred from the back of his throat。 He
pushed down…
Then he was scrambling towards Greiss； though he didn’t know what he could do for him。 The
sergeant was bleeding freely； but all Lorenzo could see in his face was a malicious satisfaction at the
death of an enemy。 And maybe； when he looked at Lorenzo； a hint of approval？
Then； a sudden change of expression—a warning glint in Greiss’ eyes。 Lorenzo whirled around
and the warboss was standing； molten lava streaming from his face； most of the skin burnt away； but
he was coming at them again…
Greiss was firing at him； pumping las…round after las…round into the warboss’ chest； and Lorenzo
didn’t think it would be enough—but then there was las…fire from behind Big Green too； and a
bedraggled； soot…blackened figure emerged through a haze of dust—and even as the ork leader
reached his targets； as he made to bring his axe down； it was one of Guardsman Braxton’s rounds
that finally sizzled through his skull and put out the feral light in those eyes once and for all。
Lorenzo had thought he’d feel different when the ork leader died at last。 Lie had expected to
feel… something。 Relieved； perhaps。 Or dismayed； that another man had delivered the killing blow。
Somehow； he had thought mere would be silence； and time to reflect—but as another great chunk of
rock was dislodged from the cavern roof to thunk into the ground beside him； he knew it was not to
be。
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Braxton helped Lorenzo to his feet； and they both turned to give Greiss a lift； but the grizzled
sergeant waved them away stubbornly。 “We’ve got to get out of here； sergeant；” insisted Braxton as
Lorenzo retrieved his gun and slapped a new pack into position。 “This place won’t hold up much
longer。 Most of the orks have already run for it。 Where’s Patch？”
Lorenzo shook his head。 “Bullseye and Wildman？”
“Dead；” said Greiss； flatly。 “Me and Braxton； we stumbled across their bodies on our way in。
Looks like they found Big Green before we did； more’s the pity。”
“I’m sure they put up a good fight；” said Lorenzo； almost automatically。 “I’m sure if it hadn’t
been for them； if they hadn’t weakened—”
“Time enough for eulogies later；” growled Greiss。 “Looked like the greenskins were mostly
headed back up to the clearing； but we found another way out。” He nodded in the direction from
which he and Braxton had appeared。 “We take that； chances are we’ll run into less opposition along
the way。 That is； if the whole tunnel hasn’t collapsed by now。”
“Let me lead the way；” said Lorenzo。
Greiss snarled。 “Like hell！ In case you hadn’t noticed； trooper； I am not dead yet—and I’m still
in charge of this squad； what’s left of it。”
“That’s not what I meant； sergeant。 I’ve been having a… a… I don’t know how to describe it；
some kind of an instinct about the quake。 Like I know how the earth’s going to move； where it’s
safe to step； where…” Lorenzo tailed off； embarrassed at how implausible the words sounded out
loud。
But Greiss just regarded him coolly for a moment； then nodded and grunted； “Step to it； then。”
Lorenzo set off sure…footedly； affecting confidence while inwardly he half…expected his luck to
run out at any moment。 Then； there it was again： that indefinable feeling； that tug in a certain
direction。 Greiss indicated a tunnel mouth ahead of them； but Lorenzo balked at a d