headed for. “Careful now; things can
get tricky if you don’t watch yer step.” Tricky was an understatement. They
climbed down into the maze of ruined metal. It was rough and pitted through
with rust, tearing at their dirty clothes and scratching at exposed skin. Lawson
spoke quietly of what they were descending through—listing off words Cobe had
never heard before: girders, support beams, buttresses, and rebar. It meant
little to him and his brother, and it probably registered even less with Trot.
“Cities were all metal and concrete
back then,” he explained. “Buildings reached high in the sky and burrowed deep
down in the ground.”
Willem grumbled. “Who’d wanna live
in the ground…gawdamn rats is who.”
Trot squeezed under a wrinkled
sheet of brown iron, following the boys and Lawson into spaces he wasn’t
entirely sure he could fit through. “Please don’t tell me there are rats down
here.”
“Rats are the least o’ yer worries,”
Lawson said, from somewhere deeper down. “Here it is…the opening.”
Trot squeezed into a narrow hollow of
earth with the others, where there was just enough room for the four to stand.
Lawson had to slouch over, however, where jagged remnants of concrete and
shards of heavy metal screening poked through. Their eyes adjusted to the dark,
and Cobe watched his brother sink to his knees. His face was lit in a weak
purple glow, his eyes wide and unblinking. He was crouched in front of an
opening in the dirt wall. Cobe kneeled down beside Willem and peered into a
three-foot high square passage leading into the light.
Lawson spoke, causing the boys to
jump. “It’s the only way in or out that I’ve ever found. Don’t be afraid;
there’s no one and nothing inside. The place is too well-hidden. Them folks
that once lived inside, below and above, have long since passed on.”
Cobe could feel a slight waft of
cool air pushing against his face from somewhere beyond. It smelled foul, but
nowhere near as bad as the water sitting outside. He ran his fingers along the
inside of one of the crumbling concrete walls. Bits gave way in small pieces. “We’re
gonna squeeze through there? You sure it won’t fall in on us?”
“It’s held up for centuries, maybe
longer…I reckon it’ll hold for a few more hours.” He pushed between the boys
and started through on his hands and knees. “It ain’t far.”
Cobe went in after Willem. He could
hear Trot behind him, panting like a trapped dog. Ain’t far was two minutes of claustrophobic scrambling that felt
more like two hours with Trot breathing hard on his heels. He finally spilled
out of the tunnel, and would’ve fallen face first into the ground—four feet
below—if Lawson hadn’t picked him out of the air.
“Easy now,” Lawson whispered, even
though he’d assured them no one was inside. He reached in for Trot and helped
the jiggling mass of panic out and down to his feet. “There, that wasn’t such a
hard thing to do, was it?”
None of them answered. They were
studying their new surroundings too intently. Cobe had never seen anything like
it. The walls of the hallway were white and curved outward. Metal pipes ran
down the length both ways as far as he could see, bundled with other strange
cords that looked like smooth ropes, but of varying colors.
Willem touched the wall and looked
at his brother. “Feels warm almost, like wood, but hard like rock. Where the
fuck are we?”
The more scared Willem became, the
more he swore. Cobe could think of a few choice words of his own, but was too
dumbfounded to use any of them. Trot was staring at the curved ceiling,
marveling at the single strip of dull, mauve light. It flickered, like a fire
would dance, but without throwing heat. He reached up to touch it and Lawson
smacked his hand down.
“If you don’t know what it is or
how it works, don’t touch it. Don’t touch any gawdamn thing down here.” Trot began to whimper. The lawman patted his
shoulder.
get tricky if you don’t watch yer step.” Tricky was an understatement. They
climbed down into the maze of ruined metal. It was rough and pitted through
with rust, tearing at their dirty clothes and scratching at exposed skin. Lawson
spoke quietly of what they were descending through—listing off words Cobe had
never heard before: girders, support beams, buttresses, and rebar. It meant
little to him and his brother, and it probably registered even less with Trot.
“Cities were all metal and concrete
back then,” he explained. “Buildings reached high in the sky and burrowed deep
down in the ground.”
Willem grumbled. “Who’d wanna live
in the ground…gawdamn rats is who.”
Trot squeezed under a wrinkled
sheet of brown iron, following the boys and Lawson into spaces he wasn’t
entirely sure he could fit through. “Please don’t tell me there are rats down
here.”
“Rats are the least o’ yer worries,”
Lawson said, from somewhere deeper down. “Here it is…the opening.”
Trot squeezed into a narrow hollow of
earth with the others, where there was just enough room for the four to stand.
Lawson had to slouch over, however, where jagged remnants of concrete and
shards of heavy metal screening poked through. Their eyes adjusted to the dark,
and Cobe watched his brother sink to his knees. His face was lit in a weak
purple glow, his eyes wide and unblinking. He was crouched in front of an
opening in the dirt wall. Cobe kneeled down beside Willem and peered into a
three-foot high square passage leading into the light.
Lawson spoke, causing the boys to
jump. “It’s the only way in or out that I’ve ever found. Don’t be afraid;
there’s no one and nothing inside. The place is too well-hidden. Them folks
that once lived inside, below and above, have long since passed on.”
Cobe could feel a slight waft of
cool air pushing against his face from somewhere beyond. It smelled foul, but
nowhere near as bad as the water sitting outside. He ran his fingers along the
inside of one of the crumbling concrete walls. Bits gave way in small pieces. “We’re
gonna squeeze through there? You sure it won’t fall in on us?”
“It’s held up for centuries, maybe
longer…I reckon it’ll hold for a few more hours.” He pushed between the boys
and started through on his hands and knees. “It ain’t far.”
Cobe went in after Willem. He could
hear Trot behind him, panting like a trapped dog. Ain’t far was two minutes of claustrophobic scrambling that felt
more like two hours with Trot breathing hard on his heels. He finally spilled
out of the tunnel, and would’ve fallen face first into the ground—four feet
below—if Lawson hadn’t picked him out of the air.
“Easy now,” Lawson whispered, even
though he’d assured them no one was inside. He reached in for Trot and helped
the jiggling mass of panic out and down to his feet. “There, that wasn’t such a
hard thing to do, was it?”
None of them answered. They were
studying their new surroundings too intently. Cobe had never seen anything like
it. The walls of the hallway were white and curved outward. Metal pipes ran
down the length both ways as far as he could see, bundled with other strange
cords that looked like smooth ropes, but of varying colors.
Willem touched the wall and looked
at his brother. “Feels warm almost, like wood, but hard like rock. Where the
fuck are we?”
The more scared Willem became, the
more he swore. Cobe could think of a few choice words of his own, but was too
dumbfounded to use any of them. Trot was staring at the curved ceiling,
marveling at the single strip of dull, mauve light. It flickered, like a fire
would dance, but without throwing heat. He reached up to touch it and Lawson
smacked his hand down.
“If you don’t know what it is or
how it works, don’t touch it. Don’t touch any gawdamn thing down here.” Trot began to whimper. The lawman patted his
shoulder.
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