by Kris Moger
He glanced up from his story. “What? Oh, That’s a vent, I think, or at least, something similar. I never took the cover off ‘cause you can never tell what lurks up anywhere,” he said as he realized the brute was talking about the opening in the ceiling.
Henri kept staring at the grate as though he expected something to appear. “Why not go up?”
“Like he said, we don’t know what’s up there,” said Jolon in an exasperated voice.
He stared at them both as though they didn’t make sense. “So, go up and check, yes?”
“So, go check, no,” Teddy threw his book aside as he realized he could not read with Henri around. “You ever scrounge?” The brute shook his head. “No? Well, we’re scroungers from childhood and we understand you don’t go poking about just because.”
“Too dangerous,” his brother said.
“Exactly.”
Henri sighed, his face sagging with disappointment. “Some day, you go.”
Teddy went to the window, his curiosity nagging at him. He couldn’t tell if the guy made a statement or asked a question. “Don’t push.”
“Yeah, too late. Forget it, Ted,” Jolon told him as he placed his hands on the windowsill. “Listen to your own advice.”
Right, forget. That would be fun to do.
“You two good friends,” Henri observed with a wistful expression.
“Don’t you have any friends, family, or anyone?”
He shook his sad head. “No, none. Just Georges and she okay. Had one friend, brother years ago. Big ruddy buddy, Keme. He nice long time. He disappeared, taken to brute auction. Never saw again. Heard he got picked by clever Upperlord, but nothing else.”
“Time to move, gophers. I do believe we’re wanted.” Jolon tapped his fingers on the glass and waved at Pa below.
He stood by the service desk signalling to them as three men in black suits strode away with their two massive brutes hauling their merchandise behind them.
“Why can’t you be like them?” asked his brother, gesturing to the two walls of meat glaring like they could burn through cement with their eyes.
Henri seemed hurt and confused. “I don’t?”
“No.”
The guy flexed his biceps. “I as big.”
“It’s not the size, buddy.” Jolon turned to Teddy with a silent plea for an explanation.
“Don’t listen. You’re fine the way you are,” he said, sticking his tongue at his brother.
They scrambled down to the warehouse floor and joined their father.
“So this is your brute,” said Dorkas, a fellow scrounger. He stepped around a shelf of dishware and plastic bins, his face cracked with sores and scars. The creep poked a finger at Henri and sneered. “Piece of the scum-riddled bottom of the sewer, ain’t he?”
Pa gave the guy a tight smile and a couple of credits. “Thank you for the goods, Dorkas. I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone who wants them. If you get any more, drop by,” he said as he escorted the man out of their warehouse.
A shiver ran up Teddy’s back as the creeper left. “Why do you do business with him? He’s the worst sort of garbage.”
His father scrubbed his hair and sighed. “Yes, he is not the type one trusts, but I like to keep an eye on him. He could cause more trouble otherwise.”
“He was lingering about the Adult Quarter yesterday with some toady, greasy character.”
His father grasped his stash. “Not surprising. I don’t trust him, and he doesn’t trust me, but we pretend we do. You don’t want to lose track of a man like him.”
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Two hours later, they arrived at Montgomery Mall once more. Caden stayed behind. Her illness was one, which often overcame Underlings especially those born near the pits on the lower South Side where sludge and noxious fumes flowed. The further south one went the more warped the bodies and minds.
Teddy had been lucky and grew up in the stability of Northside where life was the closest to normal. The warehouse was in North Side as well. Pa’s family worked hard to establish their territory and keep them safe.
He leaned his shoulder against the wall beside the room he suspected was an elevator and adjusted his mask.
“Okay, Pa, where do we go from here?”
His father scrunched his eyes and tapped his pant leg as he thought about their next move. “The map says this is level three, and the area is solid rubble in that direction,” he said, indicating the glass entrance. “So, either this whole building is buried, which would kill our ambitions, or, if luck pays us a visit, the first two levels are clear.” He cast his light in a circle as he turned. “Let’s try the elevator first.”
“Why?” he asked, straightening. “We have no electricity; we can’t use it.”
“Yes, but you never know. We might be able to climb down the shaft.” Pa took out the crowbars and passed him one. Together they forced the doors open. His father shone a light in, and Teddy gasped.
The tiny room was filled with bodies, corpses of men, women, and children, all trapped and dying centuries ago in a place with nothing, but a few buttons on the wall. He turned away, gagging. This wasn’t the first time he found remains, but he still hated it.
Pa let the doors close. “Let’s try the next one. This is the best tomb we can give them.” He went over to the other exit and pushed the silver bar that opened the door with ease. “Well, come on. Let’s explore where this leads.”
They came to a clear stairwell, and the only direction was down. Pa trotted on ahead. As they reached the next platform, the stairs turned and continued downward. There was another door on the landing after that. He pushed the bar. This one stuck. He passed Teddy the light and shoved until they could make their way through. They checked the air quality and removed their respirators.
He scratched his head where the band of the mask caused an itch while they made their way into the open. The left was a solid mix of debris and dirt. He did not peer too close in case he discovered more bodies. How the right side of the building managed to come away almost unscathed was more than he could figure out, but it was a lucky break for them.
“Pa, what do you think life was like back before the meteors?”
“Strange and wondrous. Hey, shine your handlight over here.”
He turned his lantern in the angle his father wanted. His light glinted off a tall glass window, and he jumped as a bizarre woman stared back. He had gasped before he realized she wasn’t moving. He came closer, and his father went through the door. Teddy joined him, keeping a careful eye on the statue-woman. It was creepy, unnatural, and made him tremble. He tried to turn his attention to the rest of the room.
“Look at this place,” Pa said, excited. “If even half of this merch is any good, we are in business.” He worked through piles of clothing and displays scattered everywhere and reached the main desk in the centre of the room. “Check for anything useful,” his father said as he rooted through some drawers.
Teddy pulled out a blue dress filled with holes and stained with things he did not want to identify. Something scurried in some clutter to his left and what he thought was a shirt, moved. Rats, mice, and bugs made their home in whatever they could. “Ah, Pa? I’m not too sure any of this will be any good.”
“Hmmm. Check the clothes still hanging. There’s little chance anything lives in them. Keep an eye out for ratdogs. Haven’t seen any yet, but ya never can tell.”
Gingerly, Teddy crept over to the first rack on the wall, a cluttered selection of pants and tops. They were the kind of goods the Upperlords paraded around in and scroungers near the vast crater in West Side supplied. Their leader was a large woman with pox marks and sores all over her skin, which she hid under layers and layers of cloth and jewels. She piled her hair high on her head and always had at least two or three decorations stuck in the coils.
He turned toward his father who was collecting a satchel of jewellery. “This stuff might put us in direct competition with Madame Belle. I’m n
ot sure Henri can stand against her temper.”
Pa snickered. “True. Who can say? She might fall for his sweet innocence. Still, you may be right.”
“Um, how about we go and check what else is here before we start stockpiling this stuff?”
His father stored his satchel in the side pocket of his stash and brushed off his hands. “Good idea.”
They left the store, and he was happy to leave the mannequin behind. The stall next door was filled with broken glass and pieces of dishes. A skeletal hand stuck out from behind one of the displays near the back.
“Let’s go back to that one later,” Teddy said, backing away. He didn’t want to see anymore.
As they searched on, the hall branched off to their left. They paused, and he shone his handlight forward. Mud and debris blocked their way.
“Appears we turn,” his father said.
“Hope so. Otherwise this is it.”
His father shook his head. “Nah, there must be more. I can feel it.” He flashed his light down the other way. “You notice the air?”
Closing his eyelids, Teddy stood still, breathing deep. “It’s cool and moves.”
“Yep.” Excitement danced in his eyes. “It moves... it’s a wind....”
Teddy’s heart leapt. “Mechanical or, or,” the words did not want to come out, “natural?”
His father took hold of his arm. “Who cares? Both send the blood stirring. Imagine, just imagine, Teddy, either something is making the air,” he paused, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed, “fresher and moving, or this is real air.” His tone dropped to a whisper, as though afraid he would spook the breeze if he spoke too loud. He took out his tester. “All is good. Pure enough to breathe.”
Teddy stared at him. Either possibility was overwhelming to think about. These passageways were their life. A shiver went down his back—to get out of Undercity.... He once asked his teacher why they lived underground when the farmers and the greenhouse people talked of clear skies. His teacher told him the story of how they did attempt to re-establish life outside right after the meteor strike. According to him, the entire team of researchers died an agonizing death. Since then, they passed a law keeping everyone inside and no one ever brought up the issue again.
“Pa, we can’t...”
He draped an arm around Teddy’s shoulder. “Oh, my boy, you’re getting worried over nothing. I have no scheme, no real desire in attempting to go outside. I’ve seen the pictures and stood by the memorial, but we might be able to establish a better life for the Underlings.”
“A new city?”
“A new city. A new city where everyone gets to live in homes with the basic necessities without having to grovel and depend on anyone else.”
“The Uppers won’t like that.”
He touched Teddy’s nose and winked. “That’s why we keep this a secret. That’s why we got a brute.”
“You don’t think Henri will be much use against the Upperlords, do you? I’ll agree he is powerful, but he’s harmless. I doubt he would hurt a bug, let alone stop the Uppers taking over this place.”
“He’s a beginning. From this point on, we go slow and careful.”
Careful indeed. They would need to creep along in baby steps by his thinking. “Pa, if one hint of this gets around in Upper, they’ll descend on us like a dirt slide. They’d lose their workers, their power. They might even need to work for themselves, and that would not go over well at all.”
His father didn’t respond as they continued. He held his light high to show their path. The wall to the right was solid and covered with the words ‘Celporia, Opening soon. A New Way To Be Fashion.’
“There might be merchandise behind the sign,” Teddy said, peering close.
“Just a cursory search today,” Pa said and kept moving.
In the next window was a large picture with grand splotches of green and gold lights behind a group of people performing what he figured must be music.
Music—a few Uppers owned the few instruments found by the Underlings. They were special people, almost more elite than those who controlled the water, food, and air. However, they had a limited song selection and restricted public performances to a yearly concert. Otherwise, they played at the sole discretion of other Uppers. He shuffled into the store with a touch of reverence. Songs were enticing, haunting; the melodies locked in his head and stayed.
Strange little cases with bizarre pictures all over them filled the rows of bins. It was music, at least, that’s what the signs said, but how did one listen to the stuff? He picked one case up and shook it. The contents rattled, so he peeled off the thin plastic covering and opened the case. A round disc lay inside. He popped the object out, examined every facet, and still didn’t understand where the music hid.
“Teddy, anything useful?”
He gave a negative sway to his head, dejected. “No. At least, I don’t think so.” Throwing the disc back in a bin, he sighed. One day he would think of a way to figure out how things worked.
“Hey, wait, I think I struck riches,” he said as he caught sight of a display of batteries on his way out. He took down several packs of different sizes and gave some to his father who dumped them in his stash.
“Great stuff. If they are still good, we’ve got enough here to last for quite a while. Found some candles too, in glass holders with little green balding creatures on them.” He picked up a book lying on a pile near the wall. “New reading for you.”
“Yeah, lots.” He took the novel, a thrill running through him at the thought of a new story. The cover was shiny with a picture of a pale humanoid figure glaring back at him. He turned the hardcover over in his hands before stuffing the book in his pack. “For later,” he said, resisting the urge to open the pages.
They moved on, their footsteps making the only sound. This place seemed endless. It was amazing how little damage the area sustained. Sure, a whole bunch of trash lay scattered all over, and many of the glass windows shattered, but the structure seemed to be okay. At least, he didn’t detect any cracks or fractures in the brown stucco walls and the fixtures, though dead with a lack of power, still hung from overhead. He tried to picture the place as it was—the lights high above shining bright, people wandering from shop to shop—everything seemed colourful and exciting. Now, it all was empty and broken. At least, he hoped it was empty.
“Pa, how do we know nobody lives here?”
His father stopped and turned, his face cautious. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if our people survived with all the damage our cities suffered, how do we know a similar city of survivors doesn’t live here? The place is ideal.”
Pursing his lips, his father thought about this. “Good question. We’ve seen a few bodies, yes, but we haven’t seen any signs of anyone living.” He waved toward the soiled hall. “If there were survivors, you’d think we’d find footprints and a lack of dirt. Plus, little usable merchandise available to us.” He stepped over a clutter of bags spilling out their items and stood in front of the next store. “All this stock, these dishes, the clothes, everything sits here as though waiting for people to return. No, I think if anyone ever lived down here, they are long gone.”
Teddy gazed around. His theory made sense, but he still felt uneasy. “I guess.”
“Tell you what,” Pa said, putting his hand on his hip. “We have gone far enough for today. How about we gather a few things to bring back to your mother and next time we’ll take Henri with us just in case.”
This did not make Teddy feel much better, but he helped his father pick out some choice clothing for the others. He lifted up a pair of long pants. “If these fit, that would be terrific.” He glanced down at his worn brown trousers with the tears in them. “I haven’t had anything this good in a couple of years.”
His father laughed, and held up a soft green dress with little white flowers. “Your ma will be so beautiful in this.”
Teddy caught his father’s excitement and found a flowin
g purple top, more pants, and a few decent tops. “Caden might not appreciate this, but she deserves something new. These trousers should work for Jolon, and we can share the shirts.” He dug up a large black and red jacket covered in skulls and bones. “Do you think Henri would fit this? Maybe it will make him appear tougher.”
Pa grinned. “It might.”
They laughed at the abundance their treasures gave them, but still, Teddy had a nagging sensation this was all too easy.
His father patted his back. “Come on, son. We can’t take too much. Might draw unwanted attention, right?”
He gave a disparaging grimace. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want to wander outside of our place.”
“No, no, not yet. Our day will come.”
Teddy trailed behind his father as he guided them out of the building. Glancing back, he thought he caught a glimmer of something, but it disappeared in seconds, and he hoped it wasn’t a ratdog or worse. He clasped his knife just in case and hurried after his father. Their footsteps cascaded through the hall and up the stairs. He peered down the stairwell.
“How far down do you think this goes?”
“Who can say? Might go another floor, or three or four. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Three or four floors? If they are in as good a shape as this one, we might be able to house more people than the whole population of Undercity.”
His father frowned. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to find a clean source of water, a proper sewage system, and confirm a healthy source of air.”
Teddy felt the sombre weight of doubt in the bottom of his stomach. “And we need to find a way to grow plants, don’t we? Plus, fix the other staircase, so it’s sound enough for everyone to cross.”
“There’s that, too.” Pa agreed. “Yep, this is an extensive project.” His voice faded, and Teddy could tell he was mulling over all the details that went into changing their world.
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“So, what do I do with this?” Caden asked, holding up the blouse he found for her. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Wear it?”
“Ha, ha.”
Deb twirled around in a new orange and white dress speckled in blue dots. “It’s beautiful.” She touched the top. “If you don’t want this, can I keep it?”