And several times there were skittering, scuffling noises that very likely did belong to something alive and hungry (but almost certainly small and harmless).
At one point they stepped out into a large, open tunnel with an enormous pipe running along the center of the floor. Here the machinery was the loudest and the temperature the hottest. But there were lights in this tunnel, and the floor was dry for a change. It was a welcome passage while they traveled it, but too soon the map told them to exit into a passage on the right and they found themselves in another damp corridor that took them to another rusty ladder that waited to take them deeper into the darkness.
From here, the floors became muddier, the walls slimier, and soon it became apparent to Albert that they were no longer in the university steam tunnels. It had been some time since they saw or heard any kind of machinery and the overall feel of the tunnels was different now. They found long stretches of round, concrete passages with few intersections. A few times they heard cars passing somewhere overhead and once they heard voices drifting from drainage grates in an adjoining tunnel, but for the most part they felt completely isolated from the world above them.
The worst part about these newer tunnels was the cobwebs. These rarely used passages were a haven for spiders of all types. Ghostly white curtains wavered at their approach, casting odd shadows across the walls. At times it looked to Albert like a city of pale silk, as if the tiny creatures had discovered a place private enough to build a metropolis. Invisible, gossamer strands licked their faces and clung to their clothes as they passed, and several times Brandy cried out in revulsion as one of the arachnid inhabitants of the silken city danced across the exposed skin of her face or hands.
“These tunnels just go on forever,” Brandy observed.
Albert nodded agreement. “I know. This city’s not that big. It seems like overkill.” The steam tunnels he’d expected. He was sure they snaked beneath the entire campus, perhaps for many miles, reaching as far as the river, and even several levels deep. But it felt to him that they’d already traveled enough tunnels to stretch from one end of the city to the other and back again. He’d begun to wonder if the entire city followed the university’s example, tying together the courthouse and the police station or the library and post office, perhaps networking the entirety of the city’s public buildings. But much of what they saw contained no equipment of any kind. It had even been a while since he last saw any cables or pipes. And yet, the labyrinth-like system didn’t seem like a very efficient sewer system. He would have thought that most of the tunnels would point east, toward the Mississippi River, but they seemed to go every which way. The tunnel they were in now didn’t look like it had ever held water. He wondered if some of these tunnels were a flood-prevention system of some kind, perhaps designed to carry large amounts of water past the city in the event that the mighty river overflowed its banks, as it was certainly known to do.
“I’ve always heard rumors about old tunnels under the city.”
Albert glanced at her, curious.
“There’re supposed to be miles and miles of them. Real old. Some people say they’re haunted.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There’s lots of stories. Witches and voodoo. That sort of thing. Some people say that the city’s founders were into witchcraft. Used to scare the shit out of me when I was a girl.” She was looking around, uneasy at the thought. “I haven’t thought about those stories in ages. I figured they were all made up.”
“Sometimes there’s truth behind myths.”
“Yeah. I heard a friend of my parents tell them once that some of the tunnels were older than the city itself. He said no one knows how they got there.” She chuckled softly. “Daddy always said he was full of
At one point they stepped out into a large, open tunnel with an enormous pipe running along the center of the floor. Here the machinery was the loudest and the temperature the hottest. But there were lights in this tunnel, and the floor was dry for a change. It was a welcome passage while they traveled it, but too soon the map told them to exit into a passage on the right and they found themselves in another damp corridor that took them to another rusty ladder that waited to take them deeper into the darkness.
From here, the floors became muddier, the walls slimier, and soon it became apparent to Albert that they were no longer in the university steam tunnels. It had been some time since they saw or heard any kind of machinery and the overall feel of the tunnels was different now. They found long stretches of round, concrete passages with few intersections. A few times they heard cars passing somewhere overhead and once they heard voices drifting from drainage grates in an adjoining tunnel, but for the most part they felt completely isolated from the world above them.
The worst part about these newer tunnels was the cobwebs. These rarely used passages were a haven for spiders of all types. Ghostly white curtains wavered at their approach, casting odd shadows across the walls. At times it looked to Albert like a city of pale silk, as if the tiny creatures had discovered a place private enough to build a metropolis. Invisible, gossamer strands licked their faces and clung to their clothes as they passed, and several times Brandy cried out in revulsion as one of the arachnid inhabitants of the silken city danced across the exposed skin of her face or hands.
“These tunnels just go on forever,” Brandy observed.
Albert nodded agreement. “I know. This city’s not that big. It seems like overkill.” The steam tunnels he’d expected. He was sure they snaked beneath the entire campus, perhaps for many miles, reaching as far as the river, and even several levels deep. But it felt to him that they’d already traveled enough tunnels to stretch from one end of the city to the other and back again. He’d begun to wonder if the entire city followed the university’s example, tying together the courthouse and the police station or the library and post office, perhaps networking the entirety of the city’s public buildings. But much of what they saw contained no equipment of any kind. It had even been a while since he last saw any cables or pipes. And yet, the labyrinth-like system didn’t seem like a very efficient sewer system. He would have thought that most of the tunnels would point east, toward the Mississippi River, but they seemed to go every which way. The tunnel they were in now didn’t look like it had ever held water. He wondered if some of these tunnels were a flood-prevention system of some kind, perhaps designed to carry large amounts of water past the city in the event that the mighty river overflowed its banks, as it was certainly known to do.
“I’ve always heard rumors about old tunnels under the city.”
Albert glanced at her, curious.
“There’re supposed to be miles and miles of them. Real old. Some people say they’re haunted.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There’s lots of stories. Witches and voodoo. That sort of thing. Some people say that the city’s founders were into witchcraft. Used to scare the shit out of me when I was a girl.” She was looking around, uneasy at the thought. “I haven’t thought about those stories in ages. I figured they were all made up.”
“Sometimes there’s truth behind myths.”
“Yeah. I heard a friend of my parents tell them once that some of the tunnels were older than the city itself. He said no one knows how they got there.” She chuckled softly. “Daddy always said he was full of
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