Twelve
We walked slowly and very carefully over the huge lava pieces. It wasn’t like walking through a boulder-strewn field. It was more like walking on a mountain of giant Lego pieces, without any ground apparent—unless one fell through one of the many pockets spread randomly throughout the field. We both looked at the “ground,” at the pieces we walked on, trying to track, trying to find some trace of the girls. It took us several minutes just to go a few feet. I tripped twice, once over an above ground root, once over who knows what. Fortunately I was able to grab a tree to steady myself.
“How far you been into a lava bed before?” I asked.
“About three feet,” Nate said. “You?”
“Farther than that,” I said, “but not by much.”
I stopped and looked around. “Beauty! Beauty!” I called. “W
