Rocket McGee reaches the summit of The Keep. Copyrighted material from Rocket McGee Back in Trouble!: Pirates over Pacifica follows.

She threw herself up over that final edge and skittered across the last of the lava rocks’ knife-edged swirls – quickly, before any more pain could reach her brain – skittered to where the lava swirls joined with the smooth, rusty-tan rock of the Keep, ’til she lay in a haphazard heap of splayed arms and legs; her hands, feet, and midriff bloodied… gasping, wheezing, but safe, on a flat, solid surface. She laughed and wept all at once.

You did it, you wuss! She laughed.

She wanted to lie there, to cleanse in the downpour, to bask in her triumph, to coddle her wounds. But she had to press on.

There wasn’t time to spare. She’d set things in motion… and the longer it took to shut down the jam field, the more likely her friends would be found before rescue – assuming they’d gotten away at all…

She straightened her arms and lifted her torso off the ground; raised her head, then her eyes, to the Keep. The antenna at the summit glowed and flickered, pulsing in the lightning’s strobe.