It was Rex’s birthday. How Rex knew when one year started and ended, much less the day of the occasion of his birth, was a mystery to the rest of the children. Nonetheless, they were going to hold a party. The location, Rex insisted, was going to be the Pit.

So, for the past week, the children had meticulously gathered food, hiding it high in the trees to keep it away from the scavvers. From the wasteland, they took the most special of the scraps and saved them as presents.

Then, when the date arrived, the children convened by the Pit’s entrance, ready to put aside their unending worries of looking for food and protecting themselves from the scavvers.

“Marsh, what’s a birthday?”

“It’s the day you get older on, Mana.”

Mana wrinkled her nose in thought. “Don’t you get older every day?”

“But this is the one where it counts.”

Rex shushed the chatter of the kids and motioned that they should gather close to the fire. Rex was the oldest of the children—scrawnier than he was tall, but proud of the scant hair growing on his chin. As the oldest, he was their leader, though it was a largely superfluous title: mostly the kids looked after themselves, and any disputes were solved by the threat of exile—a sentence to certain death.

“Thank you all for coming to my birthday party,” said Rex magnanimously.

“How do you even know it’s your birthday anyways?” Gemma was the next oldest. Naturally, he and Rex had an ongoing rivalry. “No one else has ever had a birthday.”

“I just know, okay, Gemma? Now, as I was saying.” Rex cleared his throat dramatically. “You’re probably wondering why we had to come all the way out here.”

And indeed they were. The children tended to stick to the forest, staying away from the rocky outskirts around the Pit, where it was easy to be spotted out in the open.

“Are you going to go down the Pit, Rex?” Mana piped up. Marsh tried to shush her as Rex glowered from having his thunder stolen from him.

Mana and Marsh were sister and brother. Just as no one knew how Rex knew his birthday, no one was sure how Marsh and Mana knew they were siblings. The two had joined their group together, and Marsh always seemed to look out for little Mana before the rest of the group, even before himself. The rest of the kids accepted that that was siblinghood meant, and promptly decided they had little interest in it.

“Yes, Mana. I’m going to go into the Pit.”

The group exploded with excitement. Rex was immediately bombarded with questions.

“When are you leaving?”

“Are you going to find treasure?”

“How far down are you going to go?”

Rex waved their questions down. “I’m leaving tonight, after the party. So it’s not just a birthday party, but also a setting off party! And I’m going to go all the way to the bottom!”

“Will you come back up?”

“Yeah, you’ve got to come back up and share the treasures with us!”

Rex looked skeptical. “I don’t know. It’s a long way down. I might not have enough food for the trip back.”

The group of admirers sighed with disappointment.

“Man, they never come back up.”

“I can’t wait until I can go too.”

“Haha, you wish. You’ll be eaten by scavvers before you get big enough.”

“No I won’t. I’ll go all the way to the bottom, and I’ll come back up too”

“Ha, there’s no way you’d make it.”

The hubbub transitioned smoothly into raucous celebration. Presents and food were unwrapped, admired and consumed. The party continued late into the night, when the fire grew low and the dim grey sky grew dark.

Gemma and Marsh stayed on the periphery of the celebration. Mana went to play with the older children, but quickly grew too tired to keep up and returned to Marsh’s side.

“What’s down there, in the Pit?” she asked Gemma.

Gemma stared moodily into the fire. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Nobody’s ever come up,” Marsh told her.

“Yeah, which is why I don’t care. I’m just glad Rex is going to be gone for good,” Gemma muttered.

“Then why do people say there’s treasure down there?”

“That’s just a guess.”

“But they don’t know for sure?”

“Nope.”

Mana thought about it for a moment.

“If nobody knows what’s down there, then why do people want to go?”

Marsh looked over to Gemma, but he was still focused on glaring at the fire.

“I’m not sure, Mana.”

“Why don’t people come up from the Pit?” Mana asked.

“Who knows,” Gemma replied. “Maybe they don’t make it all the way down. Maybe there’s something amazing down there and they never want to come back up. Maybe they can’t.”

Screams and howls in the distance put a damper on the celebration. The children’s gazes flitted quickly from the source of the sound to the safety of the trees. The scavvers tended to leave the kids alone in large groups, but grew bolder at night and in their own territory.

They ceased their games. A crowd gathered around the mouth of the hole.

Gemma met Rex at the front.

“You’re leaving now.” It wasn’t really a question.

Rex looked down the hole. The light from the fire barely breached its darkness. The slightest of drafts drifted from its cavernous mouth.

“Yeah. Hand me my bag, and the rope.”

Members of the crowd, excited to participate, ran to fetch them. Rex donned the backpack, stuffed with food and supplies. Then he tied the rope to a gnarled steel beam that was laden with ropes from others who had descended before him.

“Wish me luck!” he said. He grabbed the rope and used it to hold himself above the hole.

For a moment, something seemed to spook him, and his hesitation showed briefly on his face. But it only lasted a moment before he gave a jaunty wave and began to rappel down the hole.

The children cheered as he descended, and continued cheering long after any sign of him had disappeared. Only when the rope had ceased to twitch and trembled did they fall quiet.

“It’s time to head back,” Gemma said.

The children picked up their supplies and gathered the pieces of their party. The good humor of the occasion quickly evaporated as they headed back to their homes.

The fire crackled low at the center of the camp. Marsh was on watch while the rest of the children slept. He looked up in the trees for Mana, still soundly sleeping in her hammock.

“Psst, Marsh,” came a voice from beyond the fire’s ring of light.

Marsh recognized the voice as Kirin’s, one of the oldest members of the group. Hesitating, he made his way across the fire, stopping just short of where its light petered off into the trees.

“What do you want, Kirin?” he asked.

“Marsh, I’ve been thinking, since Rex left, things haven’t been so good.”

Marsh bit his lip. He didn’t like the comment on these things, but he could not fail to notice their stores of food running low, the scavver’s inquests growing more frequent and more bold. These things had a foreseeable effect on morale. Petty arguments turned into fights, which in turn got in the way of daily tasks, like foraging for food and staking out territory against the scavvers.

“Things aren’t great,” Marsh conceded.

“Way things are, we’re gonna have a hard time this winter.”

In winter, the ground frosted solid and the leaves fell off the trees. They couldn’t rely on foraging food from growing things in the forest, and had to compete against the scavvers for the scraps that occasionally turned up on the wasteland.

“Why are you telling me about this?” Marsh whispered.

“It’s Gemma’s fault,” she said. “He’s changing all these things just to be different from Rex. Putting all these caches into one big food pile is just asking for trouble. And putting people on patrol for so long is just going to tire them out.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Kirin shook her head. “I don’t know. Just don’t like what’s going on. You’re one of the smarter ones—I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. Also, make sure that someone else knows that trouble’s coming and can look out for the others.”

Marsh looked back to the fire, and to the treetops above. “I've gotta get back,” he said.

“Be careful,” siad Kirin, and disappeared.

“I don’t get it, Marsh. Why do I gotta learn this lettering stuff?. None of the others know how to read.”

“You just do, Mana,” he said. “And you’re getting good at it. You'll be better than me in a few years.”

Mana’s expression communicated her disbelief, but she went back to sounding out the contents of the scrap of paper Marshall had found her.

They were taking a break from hunting for supplies. Mana would need a larger coat for the upcoming winter, and holes in her trousers that were acceptable now would be deadly in the cold. And the never ending search for food. In light of Kirin’s warning, Marsh had been splitting their supplies between the camp’s and a secret stash of their own.

“Do you hear something, Marsh?”

Marsh listened carefully. Just barely he could make out a muffled rhythm. It took him a moment to understand what it meant.

“That’s the emergency alarm,” Marsh realized. He looked at Mana. “You gotta head back to camp.”

“What about you, Marsh?” Mana called as Marsh ran off towards the drums.

“Stay safe, Mana!” he called back before disappearing into the trees.

The drums cut off as Marsh grew closer. By then it was clear that the source of the alarm had been their food store. In the sudden absence of the drums, Kirin’s warning rang loudly in his mind.

Marsh was close now. He should have come across one of their watch posts by now, he realized. He broke into the clearing where they kept their main store.

There was nothing left. The old crates and vessels where their extra supplies and food were broken apart, and what little remained of their contents were scattered across the clearing floor.

Several others had arrived before him.

“Where are the guards?” Gemma was roaring. “Who was on shift?”

There was no sign of them. Gemma began to swear. The other kids spread out, salvaging what was left. Marsh looked around as well. Clearly this had been the work of the scavvers. And while they had been more bold lately, he never would have thought they would come in this far.

One of the kids let out a cry of surprise from the other side of the clearing. Marsh ran over.

It was the guards. Their bodies were mangled, riddled with long slashes. To Marsh’s dismay, Kirin’s was among them.

There were cries as kids ran to their friends, cradling them in their arms. Miraculously, Kirin was still alive.

“Gemma,” she breathed. Speaking seemed to cause her pain.

A murmur passed through the crowd. Gemma was found and brought to the front. The stoniness of his expression gave way to horror at the extent of their wounds.

“Gemma, did you beat the drums?”

Heads turned to Gemma. They had thought he had come in response to the alarm with the rest of them.

“I did,” he said. “Everyone came. It’ll be alright. Everything will be okay.”

Kirin’s face calmed. Her breathing seemed to relax, but only for a moment. Suddenly she grabbed Gemma’s collar, smearing his skin with her blood.

“I told you not to! They were going to the camp! You’ve killed us here, with your cowardice. With your patrols and your supplies, and now you’ll kill us again!”

A seize of pain gripped Kirin. Gemma recoiled, breaking free easily from her grasp. She struggled for a moment but then was still.

“Is it true, Gemma? Were you here?”

“Are the scavvers at the camp?”

Gemma gave a wide eyed stare over the crowd and their questions. Briefly his eyes met Marsh’s. There was terror there.

Gemma turned, and ran for the trees.

“Did she say they would be at the camp, the scavvers?”

Marsh’s heart sank. Mana. He had sent her to the camp.

He, too, followed Gemma’s frenzied path into the forest.

The camp was in disarray. Marsh, out of breath, collapsed at the edge of camp. Even from this distance he could smell the stink of the scavvers and the stench of blood. Marsh’s guts twisted in his chest. Where was Mana?

Few of their tents were still standing. The one nearest to Marsh shuffled with movement. He heard garbled murmurs and deep snorts.

They were still here, he realized. Marsh backed away slowly.

Was Mana still there? Had she seen them and gotten away? Or was she still in the camp, hiding? Or, Marsh swallowed dryly as the scavvers gibbering increased in pitch, had they already found her?

They can smell me, he realized. Panicking, he threw himself into the underbrush, closing his eyes tight against the world.

Growls, the scratches of their claws on the ground. They were so close Marsh could smell the rankness of their skin, feel the foul fog of their breath.

There was a crash, shattering the silence. The growling stopped, replaced by snarls. The scavvers loped off in the direction of the sound. Marsh opened his eyes.

The scavvers were gone. A bit of movement caught his eye in the treetops above. Mana! She scampered down the trees to meet him.

“Marsh! They were going to find you, so I threw a pot!”

“You did, Mana? Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank goodness you’re alright. Thank goodness.”

Marsh felt his knees collapsing with relief. But there was no time to rest.

“Let’s get out of here before they get back.”

The two of them ran in the opposite directions of the scavvers.

“Marsh, how did they find our camp? Why didn’t anyone scare them off?

Marsh’s expression darkened. “We all went to the alarms, after the scavvers left. It was Gemma’s fault.”

“I saw Gemma,” she said. “He came after the scavvers. He saw them and then ran away.”

“You did?” He hadn’t thought Gemma would have returned to camp “Which way did he go?”

“Towards the Pit,” Mana said. “He was running toward the Pit.”

Marsh stopped still in his tracks. “C’mon, Mana. We gotta find him.”

The two of them turned and ran back the direction they had come.

Gemma had a sizable lead on them, and though they moved quickly, they had to balance stealth with swiftness. Mana also couldn’t run for as long as Marsh, so they took short breaks for her to catch her breath. At long last though, they came to the edge of the forest, where the trees gave way to the wastelands. In the distance was the Pit. Gemma was there, a small silhouette, not yet at its mouth.

“Gemma!” Marsh called.

Gemma’s figure in the distance stopped.

“Don’t go, Gemma!”

It was impossible to say whether Gemma could tell what he was saying, but Marsh called out to him anyway. Mana grabbed Marsh’s hand.

“It doesn’t matter, Gemma! It’s not your fault!”

Gemma began to move again, farther away.

“I won’t help! We already lost Kirin, and Gretta, and Pliny, and now... now we’re losing you too...”

Marsh’s voice broke. There was no sign that Gemma had heard. He just continued running into the distance, toward the great dark mass of the Pit.

Marsh took a deep shuddering breath, and then ran after him. Mana trailed behind, trying to keep up.

Marsh ran as fast as he could, throwing his legs behind him as if they could push the very ground. But suddenly they seemed as heavy as lead, as if their weariness had caught up to them all at once. Marsh stumbled, stopped, heaving for breath. Gemma was little more than a speck on the horizon.

Mana caught up to him and took his hand. Together they walked to the Pit.

Gemma was long gone by the time they arrived, down the rope Rex had left them on weeks before.

Winter had set in full force. Scavenge was scarce, and scavvers roamed the lifeless forest. It had been weeks since Marsh and Mana had seen another child.

They were nestled in the boughs of one of the tallest trees. The wind was bitterly cold, but it gave them a brief reprieve from the scavvers. Marsh did his best to shelter Mana, asleep in his arms, from the worst of the chill.

They had run low on the stores they had saved before the winter, and of the camp’s there was nothing left. It would not be long before they would have to compete with the scavvers for what little scraps they could find across the wastelands.

In an effort to postpone that day, Marsh had been giving Mana the majority of their finds. But that couldn’t last for much longer. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, like a desperate animal, and he could only stave it off for so long.

But for now the night was quiet and still, and the starless sky above him was fading from deep black to the barest shade of gray. And while the winter was cold and endless, at least the space between his arms was bright and warm.

Marsh settled Mana in his lap and sat back to watch the oncoming dawn.

“Where are we going, Marsh?” Mana asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was early, in the quiet time as the scavvers fell asleep after their nighttime revels.

Marsh led her through the forest with a quickness in his step. Mana occasionally had to run to avoid losing him among the grey shadows of the trees.

“Marsh, where are we going?” she asked again as she got her bearings. Neither the grounds where they scavenged nor their stash of supplies were in this direction.

But Marsh didn’t respond. Mana hurried to catch up with him.

“Marsh!” She had tripped on a raised root. Marsh stopped and turned around as she picked herself and brushed the dust from her clothes. He came back and helped her to her feet. He gave her a quick hug and held her hand. They continued walking, at a slower pace.

They came to the end of the forest, where they had last seen Gemma weeks before. But now the wastelands were gray with dry dust, riddled with patches of dirty snow.

Marsh moved to continue on, but Mana resisted, tugging him back towards the trees.

“C’mon, Mana,” he said. His voice was strange and gentle.

Reluctantly, Mana followed Marsh into the dustlands, clinging tightly to his hands all the way to the Pit.

It hung open like a giant mouth. The scattered morning light illuminated clumps of loose dirt, outcroppings of rough stone and the tangle of rotting ropes left behind by the many who had descended into its depths.

Marsh stopped by its mouth and dropped his pack. From inside he pulled out a rope.

Mana ran over and grabbed him by the waist.

“No, Marsh! You can’t go!”

The momentum almost knocked them both over the lip. Marsh took a step away as he knelt down to hold her as she broke down into tears.

“I'm so sorry, Mana. I have to go.”

“No, no you don’t! You have to stay here, with me!”

“I can’t, Mana. It’s better this way.”

“Wrong! You’re wrong. It’s never better,” she said between sobs. “First Rex left and it got worse. Then Gemma left and then there was just us two. And now you’re leaving and now there’s only going to be me.”

Marsh held her tightly as her sobs were swallowed by the wind. She seemed so thin, so small and fragile under her clothes.

“We can’t make it through the winter, the two of us. There’s not enough food. But maybe there’s enough for you, by yourself. And maybe—” he cut short her protest. “—And maybe down there there’s something down there that can help us.”

“But no one has ever come back, Marsh. No one.”

“That’s because no one has ever had anything to come back for,” Marsh replied. “But I do, Mana. I have you. And there’s no way in the world I won’t come back for you.”

“I can’t do it. Not without you.”

Marsh stroked her hair. “You can, Mana. You're so good at finding food, and climbing, at tricking the scavvers. You’re the one taking care of me. Now all you gotta do is take care of yourself. You gotta be here when I get back. You have to be strong for me, so I can be strong for you. Okay, Mana? You’re going to be okay.”

Mana held tight to Marsh. “I can’t come with you, Marsh?”

“Not yet. When you’re older and stronger. But I’ll be back long before then, Mana. I swear it on my life.”

And even Mana could feel the hollowness of that oath, the implicit cheapness of their lives. But nonetheless her sobs subsided, and even when they had passed, they stayed clasped together at the mouth of that abyss.

“I have to go, Mana. Before the scavvers wake up.”

Mana looked up. Marsh’s eyes were wet with the sting of the cold and tears.

‘I don’t want you to go,” she said.

“I know. But I can’t stay.”

Marsh broke free of her grasp, his heart shattering. He tied the rope firmly around the beam and hauled its length over the edge. As it was swallowed by blackness, a lump formed in his throat.

He turned to Mana, watching him, looking lost and cold.

He ran over to her, falling to his knees to hold her one last time.

“I've got to go, Mana. I’ve got to but—” Marsh’s words faltered in his throat. “But you can’t cry, okay? If you cry I won’t be able—it’ll be too much to—Be strong for me, Mana.”

There were tears silently streaming down her face. Marsh turned around quickly, wiping his own eyes.

His fingers felt thick and senseless as he picked up the rope. He clutched it close to his chest as he took that first chilling step over the darkness of the Pit. A strange lightness, the thrill of terror, ran through him as the ground dropped out from beneath him. His weight caught on the rope, but his fear persisted. Marsh tore his eyes from the darkness beneath him to Mana.

“Mana, Goodbye.”

“Just for now,” she said. Her voice was shrill, close to tears.

“Just for now,” he echoed, forcing himself to smile, and began to lower himself hand over hand into the hole.

“Goodbye, Marsh!” she yelled as inch by inch the darkness began to swallow him. “Come back soon.”

He gave her one last smile, looking scared and small against the great blackness of the hole, and then disappeared.

For a long time, Mana stayed by the mouth of the Pit, watching the darkness long after any signs of Marsh had disappeared, listening to the creaks of the rope. Soon even those were gone.