“Hey there!” a call came.

“Here! Here!” Callum cried out.

“This way, man.”

A powerful beam of white light swept over the filthy layer of froth. Callum shone his own torch in the direction from which it originated. The beam found him, dazzling.

“We see you,” the voice yelled. “Make your way toward us. Fast as you can. This water’s gonna screw you up.”

Every movement was difficult now. The heat was stabbing through his flesh to grip his bones, slowly paralyzing him. He felt like he was being boiled alive, but he kept sweeping his arms around, wiggling his feet rather than kicking strongly. Long flecks of foam streaked across his face. The torch beam moved off to shine just in front of him, presenting a moving target.

“Come on, you can do it,” the voice urged. “Just a few meters more.”

He wondered why, if he was this close to the shore, his feet hadn’t touched anything solid yet.

“There you go. We got you.”

The beam wavered. In the shadows behind it, shapes were moving.

“Catch this.”

A rope dropped out of the dark air to land in the frothy surface. He stretched out a hand, unsure if his burning fingers could even manage to grip it.

“Wind it around your arm.”

He did his best, but even his arm had become sluggish. Suddenly he was moving fast as the rope pulled him along. Then hands were gripping him, hauling him over a rock shelf that sparkled with a dusting of hoarfrost. He was dragged out of the water, trailing ripples of rank sludge behind him. Strands of mist threaded through the still air all around.

“Congratulations. You made it. Welcome to hell.”

Callum swayed about on all fours, dripping steaming water and blobs of scum onto the rock. The intense heat permeating him made every movement painful, yet each breath of frigid air was a torment. He was desperate to get out of his broiling guard’s uniform. Torchlight fell on him and held steady.

“Hey, what the fuck?” his male savior exclaimed.

“What is it?” a second voice asked. Female.

“That’s a guard’s uniform. The bastard’s Connexion Security.”

“What?”

“No,” Callum said, or tried to. The glacial air just came out of his mouth as a loud wheeze.

A hand gripped the hair on the back of his head, forcing him to look up. “You a guard, dickhead? You fall through by mistake, huh?”

“No.”

“I’m going to make you wish this was hell!”

The kick caught Callum in the side of his torso, shunting him across the rock. He flopped onto his back. The torch beam was still on him, blotting out the people behind. He could hear a footfall. Then another kick slammed into his ribs. Pain stars flashed across his vision. He wanted to scream in fury but didn’t have the strength or breath.

“Throw him back in,” the female voice demanded.

“Yeah—eventually.”