A Perfect Machine

“We need to find a light source, Henry.”

No answer, just more plodding.

It was getting harder and harder to get through to Henry now. Milo realized it would be best if he concentrated on working with Faye on a plan for getting them out of here. Away from these tunnels. Away from this whole city.

“Faye, how are you doing?”

“I feel a lot better,” she said, but winced when she moved her wounded arm and shoulder. “This damn thing still hurts, but not even close to as bad as before.”

They carried on in silence for a while, then Faye looked up at Henry, said, “How’s he doing?”

“Not great. No idea what’s going on in his head, and he won’t say anything. I don’t know where he’s gone, but I’m scared he won’t be coming back.”

And it was true. Henry’s mood darkened with each step he took, as though the darkness around him was becoming part of him, seeping into his structure. He felt as though he’d fallen down a very deep well and could no longer see the top – the light there long extinguished. And whenever he tried to scramble back up the sides of the well, they became slick with moisture, any handhold treacherous, impossible. He knew, too, that something was moving in to replace who he’d been. He was losing his internal battle.

Up ahead, some pinpricks of light. Shuffling sounds.

The lights wobbled from side to side as the tunnel curved and they were able to better see what it was: a handful of city workers, probably down here fixing something. With the sound of Henry’s thunderous steps, the lights became more frenzied as the workers figured out that whatever was stomping its way toward them was really big. And definitely not a subway train.

Scuffling, clattering sounds, and the lights scattered. Most vanished from sight instantly, but one stayed, low to the ground. As Henry, Milo, and Faye approached, they saw that one of the workers had dropped his flashlight. It sat in the dirt near the tracks.

“Light source,” said Faye.

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Milo replied, laughed.

“Well, while we’re asking, another one woulda been nice,” Faye said.

Milo picked up the flashlight, waved it around. The shaft of light caught the side of what appeared to be another tunnel – this one leading away from the old, disused section of the underground.

“Must lead to the tunnel that’s actually in use,” Milo said. “Maybe something in this old tunnel is still hooked up to the new line?”

“Or, jeez, I dunno,” Faye said, “maybe they were working in the new tunnel, heard giant goddamn footsteps this way, decided to come check it out, saw what it was – or at least heard it – and got the hell out of Dodge.”

Milo nodded, grinned. “Yeah, that’s more likely, you’re right.”

But as quickly as the grin appeared on Milo’s face, he felt his heart sink as he thought about the situation. What was their plan here? Hide was not a helpful idea due to Henry’s size, so besides another rampage – the first one not turning out well for anyone involved – running away was the only other option. They needed to somehow try to get out of the city without being noticed. Underground was the best option for that plan, but now there were two options within that choice: old tunnels or new tunnels? Milo had no idea they were linked so openly.

“Henry,” Milo called up to his friend. “Listen, you’ve got to respond now. Which way do you wanna go? The old tunnels will be less populated – and no trains running in them – but they won’t extend as far out of the city as the new ones, so… what do you think?”

Henry just breathed in, breathed out. Stared down this slightly smaller tunnel, which led to the working subway lines. Blinked every once in a while.

Milo was about to ask again, clearly frustrated, but then Henry’s giant metal eyeballs swiveled around, found his friend, and some kind of understanding passed between them. Henry didn’t speak, but Milo thought he saw a brand of despair on Henry’s face that he would not have thought possible. It made his heart ache.

What is he thinking? What does he think he’s done? What does he know he’s done? As Milo thought this last, the sound of a subway rumbling down the line nearby filtered over to where they stood. Henry’s eyes settled momentarily on Faye, then he turned his head, and continued stomping away down the old tunnel, away from the sound of the train.

Milo looked at Faye, who shrugged, said, “Guess that answers your question.”

They moved ahead of Henry, Milo leading the way through the pitch dark with their newfound flashlight.

They walked along in silence for a few hundred feet, then Henry suddenly stopped, turned himself around more quickly than Milo or Faye would have expected, given his size and downturned mood.

“Whoa, whoa, Henry, what…” Milo began.

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