The children's cheers faded almost as soon as they began.
The ground trembled.
Not the small tremors from before. The ones that had signaled the arrival of the earlier worms. This was deeper and stronger. The kind of tremor that made the stone beneath their feet vibrate and the trees at the edge of the playground sway.
Alina's blood went cold.
"Everyone stay on the stone," she whispered. "Don't move. Don't—"
The earth split open.
Not in cracks. Not in small fissures.
The entire center of the playground ripped apart, grass and soil and stone flying into the air. The children screamed. Some fell. Some clung to each other. Some stared in frozen horror.
