ground seemed to be covered in a layer of filth my shoes peeled away from with a sticky noise. “You’ll get used to it,” Val assured me when he caught sight of the disgusted look in my eyes.
“Come on. We need to catch up with the others. Hurry up,” Val said, taking off into the lobby at a run. He was much faster than I expected, and I made a mental note of it for his file as I chased after him.
Near the exit, I got my first look at what heated the underground. Spanning the length of floor to ceiling was a monstrous piece of hissing machinery. A dark metal cylinder stood at the center, steel support beams welded to its sides and holding it four feet from the floor. Each beam ran all the way to the ceiling while the cylinder at the core stopped at a story high. Four long, semi-transparent tubes connected to the cylinder and wound their way to the ceiling, each wide enough for a grown man to crawl through comfortably.
“Impressive, huh?” Val asked.
Primitive was a better way to describe it, but I was impressed nonetheless. Val pointed to the cylinder at the base as we passed and said, “There’s a fire going in the bottom half 24/7. See that pipe?”
“Water?” I guessed.
“Yup. There’s a factory topside which melts down the snow and ice, some filtered for household use and some sent straight in there.”
Val led me out a set of doors on the other side of the room and into the street. I had to remind myself it wasn’t actually late—there just weren’t any natural light sources. It wasn’t entirely dark, though. Slender black poles, no more than ten feet from the next, ran along the street as far as I could see. Each had a large, cream colored glowing orb strung from a chain connected to the top of the pole. I moved closer to examine one of the makeshift streetlamps as I passed. Inside each orb, I learned, a fire danced away. Some sort of slow burning oil powering them, perhaps?
Val didn’t explain them and didn’t even seem to notice I’d fallen behind. I hurried to catch up, glancing up at the streetlights curiously and then to the buildings along the road. Each had the same rustic feel to it, despite obvious attempts at restoration. The mismatched bricks and cracked windows held a certain charm I couldn’t quite explain, but not enough to make me ever consider calling a place like this home.
I made a few quick deductions as we ran through the city. Somewhere down here, a great body of water flowed freely. I could smell the moisture in the air and hear it echoing off the walls. Based on how the people walked in the streets, it was safe to assume there weren’t a lot of cars, either. The air was damp and heavy with a metallic taste, and, yet, I wasn’t lightheaded. There must have been some kind of filtration system in place to circulate airflow.
The sudden sound of crunching metal ripped me from my survey of the city. It was the sound of a car crashing; I’d recognize the noise anywhere. Val seemed to realize what it was, too, and he cursed colorful combinations of swears.
He rounded the corner, almost a full six feet ahead of me. The street signs read Fifth Avenue and Pike Street. When I looked ahead, I saw a bridge, carved out of a solid piece of earth, and a black town car was smashed against the stone wall lining it. Another town car was at the opposite end of the bridge, and four men in navy blue uniforms I didn’t recognize stepped out.
A switch in my head flipped at the sight of guns being raised, pointed right at us. Adrenaline pulsed harder. I ran faster. I caught up to Val just in time to seize him under the arms and yank him into an alley off the street. My back hit brick right as the four uniformed men across the bridge opened fire. I pulled Val further into the alley and reached for the gun concealed in my bag.
Before I could get a grip on it, Val’s hand dove into his jacket, and he forced a cheap looking pistol hard against my chest. I took it and instinctively ran
“Come on. We need to catch up with the others. Hurry up,” Val said, taking off into the lobby at a run. He was much faster than I expected, and I made a mental note of it for his file as I chased after him.
Near the exit, I got my first look at what heated the underground. Spanning the length of floor to ceiling was a monstrous piece of hissing machinery. A dark metal cylinder stood at the center, steel support beams welded to its sides and holding it four feet from the floor. Each beam ran all the way to the ceiling while the cylinder at the core stopped at a story high. Four long, semi-transparent tubes connected to the cylinder and wound their way to the ceiling, each wide enough for a grown man to crawl through comfortably.
“Impressive, huh?” Val asked.
Primitive was a better way to describe it, but I was impressed nonetheless. Val pointed to the cylinder at the base as we passed and said, “There’s a fire going in the bottom half 24/7. See that pipe?”
“Water?” I guessed.
“Yup. There’s a factory topside which melts down the snow and ice, some filtered for household use and some sent straight in there.”
Val led me out a set of doors on the other side of the room and into the street. I had to remind myself it wasn’t actually late—there just weren’t any natural light sources. It wasn’t entirely dark, though. Slender black poles, no more than ten feet from the next, ran along the street as far as I could see. Each had a large, cream colored glowing orb strung from a chain connected to the top of the pole. I moved closer to examine one of the makeshift streetlamps as I passed. Inside each orb, I learned, a fire danced away. Some sort of slow burning oil powering them, perhaps?
Val didn’t explain them and didn’t even seem to notice I’d fallen behind. I hurried to catch up, glancing up at the streetlights curiously and then to the buildings along the road. Each had the same rustic feel to it, despite obvious attempts at restoration. The mismatched bricks and cracked windows held a certain charm I couldn’t quite explain, but not enough to make me ever consider calling a place like this home.
I made a few quick deductions as we ran through the city. Somewhere down here, a great body of water flowed freely. I could smell the moisture in the air and hear it echoing off the walls. Based on how the people walked in the streets, it was safe to assume there weren’t a lot of cars, either. The air was damp and heavy with a metallic taste, and, yet, I wasn’t lightheaded. There must have been some kind of filtration system in place to circulate airflow.
The sudden sound of crunching metal ripped me from my survey of the city. It was the sound of a car crashing; I’d recognize the noise anywhere. Val seemed to realize what it was, too, and he cursed colorful combinations of swears.
He rounded the corner, almost a full six feet ahead of me. The street signs read Fifth Avenue and Pike Street. When I looked ahead, I saw a bridge, carved out of a solid piece of earth, and a black town car was smashed against the stone wall lining it. Another town car was at the opposite end of the bridge, and four men in navy blue uniforms I didn’t recognize stepped out.
A switch in my head flipped at the sight of guns being raised, pointed right at us. Adrenaline pulsed harder. I ran faster. I caught up to Val just in time to seize him under the arms and yank him into an alley off the street. My back hit brick right as the four uniformed men across the bridge opened fire. I pulled Val further into the alley and reached for the gun concealed in my bag.
Before I could get a grip on it, Val’s hand dove into his jacket, and he forced a cheap looking pistol hard against my chest. I took it and instinctively ran
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