“And what if they do? Even by accident? I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to take that chance.”
Bill leads us through alleyways and streets. He moves quickly, like a fox. Now I know why I never paid him much attention before. Though always drunk and obnoxious, he’s adept at keeping under the radar.
He avoids wide, open areas, so we dredge through trash in the murkiest alleyways, and then he stops, lifting the lid of a sewer. You’ve got to be kidding me. He raises an eyebrow, sensing my thoughts.
“Want to hide from them?” he asks. I nod. “You first.”
I carefully step onto the first slippery rung. My hands slide down the wet ladder as I struggle to hold on with all my equipment. The farther we travel downward, the lower the temperature drops. I wrinkle my face as the stench of decaying bodies, garbage, and stale water hits me. This is worse than I thought.
“And how come we weren’t informed this existed?” Cole asks as everyone reaches the bottom.
“Don’t know, man, but I’m not complaining,” Bruno says.
“Well, good thing I know about it, huh?” Bill says in whisper. Even then, his voice carries.
“Let’s not forget there are cameras everywhere in the Hole.” Bruno says. “They might be following us.”
“Let them try,” Bill says. He begins cutting a path down the dark tunnel.
My boots make a sucking sound with each step, and water trickles from somewhere. Luckily, I can’t see what I’m stepping in.
“This tunnel runs about one hundred yards,” Bill says. He cautiously peeks around the corner. “The first Commander began construction on it, but after a while, it was abandoned.”
“Really? I can’t imagine why,” I say, almost gagging.
It’s quiet, except for our feet sloshing through inches of liquid. Then something brushes against my leg.
“Zeus, please tell me that was you,” I say. My voice comes out shaky. But I already know it wasn’t Zeus because his tail whips my knee from in front of me.
“Something run along your foot?” Bill asks. “Probably just a rat.” He flips on a light, and the hairy bodies skitter across the floor, through the muck.
“Ahhh, I hate rats,” I say.
“Would you prefer bullets flying around your head?” Bill asks.
“Smart-ass.”
“I’m going to throw up,” Grace says. She stops, her bag slides to the side of her back, and I catch it. She heaves violently and then stands up straight.
“Are you okay?” Bruno asks as he pats her back.
She swallows and gives a thin smile. “I’m fine; it’s the smell.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Bruno says. But his tone falls flat compared to the usual jokes he tells.
Bill stays close to the wall on the left side, stopping occasionally to make sure all of us follow. Every noise carries, especially the jangling of our equipment.
“What in the world … is that?” Grace asks.
Cole flips his flashlight across the tunnel, and I find myself groaning with disgust. My hands fly to my mouth.
A body lies there half decomposed, its clothing stretched across bloated, green-tinted skin, liquid dripping from its nose and mouth. As soon as the stench reaches my nose, I don’t know if I will be able to keep from puking.
“Don’t look,” Cole says, trying to redirect me with his body.
But I’ve already seen the maggots crawling through the nose of the body. My breath catches, and I turn my head away. This isn’t real. This isn’t the closet with the dead cat and the maggots weaving in and out and all over me. I’m not being tortured by my stepfather anymore. But my arm begins burning to the point that I tear at it with my hands.
“Lexi, you’ll all right, I’m right here,” Cole says. I realize I’ve left claw marks on my arm and have to shake my head free of the nightmarish memories. “You’re bleeding.” He sounds breathless.
“I am?”
“Not a lot,” he says, wiping my arm with his bare, rough hand. Sure enough, when he pulls it away, blood stains his fingers.
“Poor person probably came down here to die,” Bill says.
“What a terrible way to go,” Bruno says. “Smelling like crap.”
“Bruno!” Grace says, then she turns to Bill. “Please, I’m begging you to hurry up.”
“Only a few more … ” Bill stops and then tugs on a ladder hanging from a black-stained cement wall. “Ah, here it is.” He smiles. “Going up?”
“Oh, for the love of God, yes,” Grace says.
Bill climbs up the ladder, carefully removing the lid of the sewer with a scraping sound.
“All clear,” he says.
With the delicate balance of tightrope walkers, we somehow manage to get back up the ladder and enter the street without being seen. Strangely, the sewer comes out into an alley between two shacks.
“It’s no wonder you survived here so long,” I say in a whisper.
Bill grins at me, light gleaming off his teeth. “Being crazy has its advantages.”
“You’re not that crazy,” I say. “Just different, but it’s a good different.”