The Lobo was easily one of the biggest kids Holt had ever seen, all muscle and built like an oak tree. He looked like he was carved out of granite, and for the life of him, Holt couldn’t figure out how the kid managed to fit through the horror they were traversing right now, much less remain calm.
The “Crawlway” was a densely packed collection of cavern tunnels that wound through most of the system’s larger rooms, and the name was definitely deserved. For Holt, it was a claustrophobic nightmare, a tunnel so tight, he had to keep his hands stretched out in front of him, because it wasn’t wide enough to fit with them at his sides.
The first hundred feet or so hadn’t been too bad, but now the novelty had definitely worn off. He felt buried alive, like the walls were pushing in on him and the tunnel was shrinking the farther they moved through it.
Max was enjoying the experience even less, it seemed.
“Max, you can do it, wiggle like a worm!” he heard Zoey say encouragingly from the other side of the dog. There was no trace of discomfort or uneasiness in her voice, but then again, she was the smallest one out of all of them. Hell, she was probably having fun.
Max whined and moved forward, following Zoey’s voice, and Holt sighed in relief. He crawled forward through the crushing tunnel, foot after foot, until he looked up and noticed Max was no longer in front of him.
In fact, nothing was, just a wall of darkness. Holt shone his light ahead, but it didn’t help much. The rock was so black, you couldn’t tell if you’d lit up a wall or were looking at shadow.
Holt eyed the darkness ahead warily. “Max? Zoey?” No answer, no sound at all. How could they have disappeared so fast?
He pulled himself cautiously forward, conscious of the rock pressing down on him. There was still no sign of—
The floor fell away from under him as the tunnel made a sudden, sharp descent downward.
Holt yelled in surprise as he slid face-first down the slick, rocky slope, picking up speed, faster and faster toward … whatever lay below.
He shut his eyes, waited for the moment when his face would slam into some rock wall, but instead he tumbled out of the tunnel into a larger one, rolling right into Max and almost bowling the dog over. Everyone else was picking themselves up off the floor, and Holt glared at the Lobos. “Would a heads-up have killed you?” he asked testily.
They just smirked at him. “You’re still in one piece, Outsider,” Marcus said. “Now shut up from here on out—sound carries bad and this passage connects to the compound.”
Marcus and his fellow set off, and Holt made to follow … when he caught Mira’s eye ahead of him. She had a strange look, hesitant and contemplative, with a touch of guilt. Was she having second thoughts about the plan? If she was, it was a little late for that now.
He watched her move on, crawling after the Lobos. Zoey went next, waving Max to follow, which he did. The dog was walking on all fours now, and by the incessant wagging of his tail, it was clear Max was feeling better. And when Holt examined the new tunnel, so did he. The ceiling was low enough that he had trouble sitting in a crouch, and he couldn’t extend his arms straight out to the sides, but after that last tunnel, it felt like the inside of Grand Central Station.
Ahead of him, he saw the flashlights switch off, and he followed suit. They must almost be there.
Ahead, the others were crouched around a hole in the floor. Through the hole, light filtered up, and Holt took a spot around it and looked.
Another cavern ran below them, wide compared to theirs, and Holt saw glimpses of painted doors inset into its wall spaced several feet apart.
He leaned forward for a better view, but Marcus’s hand clamped onto his shoulder, held him in place. When Holt looked up at the big kid, he held a finger to his lips.
Beneath them came the sound of voices. Seconds later, two figures walked by, a girl and a boy, each dressed in something gray. They didn’t even glance up as they moved, but if they had, they would have seen five faces and a dog snout staring down at them.
When the sounds of their voices finally faded away, Marcus glared at each of them. “This is the tunnel to the main residence hall,” he whispered.
“What side of the compound are we on?” Mira asked, just as quietly.
“The northern side, near the falls. Best you’re gonna get,” he responded, and his stare hardened. “We’ll take that plutonium now.”
“I’m going to assume that’s a joke,” Mira replied.
“What was that?” Marcus asked dangerously.
“The Crawlway’s a maze,” Mira replied. “I don’t wanna spend a month lost back there.”
“We’ll wait,” Marcus said with a grin.
“I know you will, because you’re not getting paid until I’m back.” A very displeased look formed on Marcus’s face, but Mira just smiled sweetly at him. “It’s not like I’m not coming back, is it? How else am I gonna get out—walk out the front gate?”
Marcus and his compatriot looked at each other, considering.
“I need something else from you, or there’s no deal,” Mira pressed on before they could say no. She turned and looked at Holt, and something passed between them. “I’m going by myself, and I don’t want anyone else following.”
“Wait, what?” Holt exclaimed.
“Mira…,” Zoey started, staring up at Mira.
“We have to keep your friends on ice, too?” Marcus asked.
“Just think of them as collateral,” Mira said. “Something you know I’ll come back for.”
Marcus and the other Lobo shared a look; then they both shrugged. Marcus reached out and grabbed Holt with a concretelike grip, sealing him in place. Holt struggled, but the giant hand was clamped down on him like a vise.
The other kid reached out for Zoey. She tried to scamper away, but the kid pulled her back, muzzling her with a palm over her mouth.
“Don’t hurt her,” Mira whispered, genuine anger in her glare.
“No guarantee there. No guarantee at all,” Marcus said, slowly drawing the hunting knife from his belt and holding it up for Mira to see. It was a big knife. “You wanna play games, fine, we can play games. But if an hour comes and goes and you’re still not back, I might take it upon myself to start cutting off little pieces of your friends here. We got an understanding, you and I?”
Mira stared back at the giant of a boy, her fists clenching at her sides. “Pretty clear, yeah.” Mira looked at Zoey. “Zoey, it’s gonna be all right, I promise. Okay?”
Zoey continued to struggle in spite of the assurances.
“Mira, don’t do this…,” Holt said, then groaned as Marcus’s hand dug into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Holt,” Mira said. When he looked up, her eyes were on him again. They were filled with a steady resolution; she had her plan, and she was sticking with it. But there was guilt there, too. “This is my problem … and my mistake. And no one else is getting hurt trying to fix it.” She reached out and gently touched his hand. “But thank you for coming this far with me.”
Holt felt her hand on his a moment more, then watched as she leapt through the opening in the floor down to the Gray Devils cavern below and disappeared.
34. PHOTOGRAPH
MIRA FELL FROM THE HOLE and hit the floor running, leaving it quickly behind. It was funny. When she had lived here, she walked past that opening every day, but never really gave it much thought. Just another cramped, impassable chute that wound off into the unmapped areas of the caverns, or so she’d believed. She wondered how many times a Lobo spy had watched her walk right under it.
Mira saw she was in the tunnel to the Gray Devils residence hall, just like Marcus had said. Illuminators floated near the ceiling, providing light, and a few smaller rooms branched off it. They were all sealed with doors brought in from the outside and framed into the openings. They were also all locked, Mira knew.
She dug through her pack and pulled out a key chain loaded with about a dozen small keys of different colors and sh
apes, each marked with the δ symbol. They were Skeleton Keys, major artifacts from the Strange Lands’ deeper parts, and they would open any lock that took a key. Not every key from the Strange Lands was a Skeleton Key—only certain ones developed the right properties, and Mira usually found only one for every eight she brought out. They were rare, very valuable, and this key ring, which held about half a dozen, represented her entire collection.
She plucked two of them from the ring as she moved. Ahead of her was one of the doors, inset into the wall. When she reached it, she shoved one of the Skeleton Keys into the lock. There was a spark and a hum, and Mira could feel the door handle vibrate slightly in her hand.
She twisted the key and, with a flash, the door clicked as it unlocked. Mira quickly opened the door, stepping into the small, rocky room beyond. When she removed the key, there was another flash … and the entire thing crumbled into a palmful of metallic shavings and dust in her fingers. Mira brushed off the residue as she stepped inside the room and shut the door behind her. Skeleton Keys could be used only once.
It was a supply closet, as she’d expected, lined with cabinets full of all kinds of things: paint cans, scrap metal, boxes of nails, tools, car batteries, thick chain, rope and pulleys, pieces of plywood. Mira set her pack down amid it all, and quickly dug through it, removing two dimes, a small piece of a mirror, and a glass vial.
Mira assembled the components and hurriedly wrapped them with her ever-dwindling supply of duct tape. As she did, a crackling charged the air, and a light humming sound built and faded away.
Mira examined at the artifact, another Shroud, but this one wasn’t for her. She just hoped he remembered what she’d told him. She set the newly Interfused Shroud on her pack and tossed the ring of Skeleton Keys on top of them as well.
She left the closet, leaving the door unlocked. From a pocket, she pulled out a line of red string and quickly wrapped it around the door handle. It didn’t stand out completely. If you weren’t looking for it, you probably wouldn’t notice it.
The hallway was still empty and quiet, and she moved down it again, heading for where the tunnel ended and widened into a new room. As she approached it, a deep sound, like constantly rumbling thunder, grew louder the farther she went.
The Gray Devils residence hall was a massive, cylindrical cavern that rose hundreds of feet straight up. There were ledges and indentations all through the rough, black rock walls, and built out from them were dozens of platforms made of wood and sheet metal, bolted and hung with rope and chains into the sides of the cavern.
Each platform was the personal space of a Gray Devils member, and each person made the space their own, customizing it with different furnishings and possessions. They were painted shades of gray and white, but most had additional drawings or writing underneath them, so they were visible from the ground. Seen from below, it made a kaleidoscope of color and personality that ascended far above to the cavern ceiling. Ladders climbed up the walls, and precarious bridges stretched between them all the way to the top.
Large Illuminators floated in the air at the top of the ceiling, bathing everything in dim light, while even smaller ones had been strung between the ceiling’s stalactites. Hanging down from that same ceiling were two huge banners, each emblazoned with the smiling devil logo. And between them, at the very top of the cavern, was something like a balcony, where light from candles and lanterns gleamed in the dark. It was Lenore’s residence, and Mira stared up at it warily before turning to examine the room’s most prominent feature.
A large underground waterfall burst out of the cavern wall far above and tumbled downward, crashing into a pool at the far end of the room, draining away through some hidden underwater tunnel system. A grid of latticework and sheet metal hung next to it, attached to mechanical arms, but there was no indication what they were used for.
Large blue Illuminators were installed behind the tumbling water, and the light that shone through made the falls glow like sapphire in the dark. It was an impressive sight, and Mira paused to admire it. She had built and installed those blue Illuminators herself, a project that won her enough Points to finally become the top Freebooter in Midnight City, and she smiled as she looked at it.
Mira had forgotten how loud the falls were, and marveled that she had ever been able to sleep in here. But she’d gotten used to it. Eventually, you stopped hearing it altogether.
The good news was, because the waterfall was so loud, she didn’t have to worry about being quiet. She did, however, have to worry about being seen.
Mira ducked into the shadows of the closest wall and looked upward at the multitude of colorful platforms above her. Her eye moved to two of them, on the fifth level, close to each other, and both of them were dark and lifeless.
Her platform, and a few down to the left, Ben’s. Two places where, in another life, she’d made a lot of memories. Seeing them again, dark and without any indication of life, caused a hollow ache in her stomach. Going back to how things were wasn’t why she’d come here, Mira reminded herself. There was no going back.
Mira looked away, found the nearest ladder, and started scaling it. It was a wooden one, and pretty sturdy, but she could see it went only as far as the third level. From there, she’d have to take one of the bridges to a new ladder.
She kept climbing, and passed by one of the lower-level platforms. She knew this one: it belonged to a boy named Daniel who led salvage runs into the ruins on the surface and always came back with nice items, a few of which she had traded for. His cavern wall was still decorated with dozens of faded postcards from the old world, some of them with writing on them. They were all from city ruins he had explored, Mira knew. Daniel always had a rule that he first found a postcard as a memento before doing any treasure hunting. It was bad luck otherwise.
She had liked Daniel; he was always nice to her. Now if he saw her, he would most surely raise an alarm and help run her down. Funny how quickly things could change here.
Mira continued upward and reached the end of the ladder, where it connected to one of the cavern’s many rope bridges. The thing swayed precariously when she climbed onto it. It was the same for all the bridges here, and Mira had never gotten comfortable crossing them. They always seemed on the verge of falling apart or tipping you off, but as far as she could recall, none of them had ever collapsed, a testament to just how solid they really were, in spite of their appearance.
She moved over the bridge as quickly as she dared, holding on to the rope railings that ran along the sides. She kept an eye on the dark platforms as she went, looking for any sign of movement. From a few came the flickering light of candles or lanterns, but they were all mostly dark, which is what she’d counted on. From a distance, anyone looking would assume she was just another faction member heading to bed. That was the plan, at least.
Ahead of her, the bridge connected with two other ladders that moved diagonally to a far wall. Mira took the one she needed and started climbing, moving past the fourth level and stopping at the fifth.
Her quarters were dark and empty, as she’d expected, and Mira jumped silently off the ladder onto her platform and ducked out of sight.
Everything was, for the most part, exactly as she’d left it, though somewhat dusty now. Her hammock and blankets still hung between the cavern wall and a pole she’d attached to the floor in the middle of the platform. A row of blue metal shelves were at the far end, about half empty, which wasn’t surprising. It was where Mira had kept her favorite major artifacts, which would all have definitely been stolen by now.
There were still a few things left, though. Candles, a tea jar, old books, a binder of Strange Lands maps, a jewelry box. A Polaroid picture was glued to the wall behind the shelf, and a small lump of jagged, purple crystals sat in the middle. On the bottom shelf was a small, ornate wooden chest made of a flowing combination of cherrywood and gold and silver.
The crystal was a remnant of a lightning strike from one of the numerous antimatter storm
s that hovered over the Strange Lands’ fourth ring. In spite of how dangerous it could be, Mira had always thought the antimatter lightning was beautiful. It ripped the air in a whole range of colors, and wherever it hit, its flash incinerated the ground into crystal of the same color. As a result, navigating through the fourth ring was like traversing a neon-colored crystalline maze. The first time she’d explored it, she brought back this chunk as a keepsake.
The Polaroid was even more meaningful: a picture she’d snapped at the edge of the fourth ring, the farthest she had ever gone in. The picture showed huge wavering bands of color filling the sky over a horizon of city ruins, like a borealis. Silhouetted against them were two massive blurry wedges of darkness, spinning powerfully in the distance. They were tornadoes, but not like any in the normal world—six times as big and made entirely of swirling dark energy. They were isolated to the core, the deepest, most deadly part of the Strange Lands, and whatever they touched, they absorbed into themselves, ripping it from existence. She had taken this picture the morning before she and Ben returned home, and she remembered having to pull him away. Exploring the core was his obsession, and it hadn’t been easy to make him leave.
She studied the entire platform with a mixture of emotions. It felt so comfortable here, and part of her expected Ben to swing down onto her dais as he always used to. But the rest of her knew things had changed beyond repair, and that those times were gone forever.
Mira focused on each individual object in her old space, wondering which one Lenore had chosen. It would be something meaningful, something Mira would absolutely take, but there were several choices that fit that criteria.
Mira hesitated. She was about to move past the point of no return, and by doing so, she would put others at risk—people she cared about, maybe even loved. She could always leave now, go back to the secret tunnel, forfeit the plutonium she had worked so hard to get. But this was what she’d come here for. And she had to go forward. She had to make things right … as much as she could.
Midnight City: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series) Page 24