by T. C. Edge
The most familiar passage to me, however, is the one that leads right back up towards the shelter in district 6. I head towards it now, my body still tense from the chase, my eyes ever watchful as I advance.
I reach the entrance, and begin moving up and away from the underground gardens, so near now to the way out into the populous streets above.
At this time, with the early curfew in place, they’ll be quiet. Yet by now I’m far enough away from the western border that I should be able to creep back to the academy unseen. I can’t imagine the Con-Cops’ net will have been spread this wide.
Moving slowly and quietly, I work my way up, my body beginning to ease and mind beginning to wander. Thoughts of Drum and Zander dominate, their path towards the north a lot longer and more perilous. I can only pray that Zander can see them both to safety, using his powers and knowledge of the maze to outwit his pursuers.
With my mind turning to them, thoughts of my own predicament fade. As I continue up the path, however, I realise that my growing ease is premature.
Voices. I hear them, whispering quietly.
And footsteps too, tapping lightly.
No lights brighten the dark, no torches guiding the path of whoever lies ahead. I stop and listen and quickly know the truth: they’re coming my way; they’re moving down the tunnel.
In a split second of panic, I turn and start moving back towards the cavern below. I keep my footspeed light, trying not to make a sound, shuffling as fast as I can manage without alerting them to my presence.
But as I begin to move faster, I note that they do too.
The sound of stamping feet grows louder. Heavy boots hitting the rock. I have no need to hide my motion now, to stay quiet. I launch myself back down, surging as fast as I can manage with the use of my Dasher powers.
I rush so fast that I lose my footing, tripping on a rock as I reach the end of the path. I burst through into the cavern, tumbling head over heel, my body battered by rough rocks as I land with the wind pushed out of me.
I stand, wheezing, my muscles sore and drained. Quickly, my vision spreads to the other exits, and my heart performs a double beat.
I see lights. Coming from another tunnel. And then another.
I turn to the tunnel behind me and hear the shuffling of feet still so close, tapping rapidly against rock, and a fresh terror engulfs me.
Stalkers.
Only they could rush fast enough to catch me. Only they could see in the dark without lights.
The hybrid killers have come to take me.
I rush to the centre of the cavern, my body feeling slower now, my legs heavy. From all angles I hear voices and footsteps, all converging on me. I turn to the narrow slit in the wall, the one that leads back up to where I first came from. It’s too high up to get through, several metres off the ground.
My eyes flick from one option to the next. None are feasible. All are either filled with rushing feet and voices, or unknown to me and could be dead ends.
I begin backing off, heading towards the deepest and darkest shadows I can see, shadows that won’t hide me for long.
The waterfall grows louder as I go, singing its calming song. And as I listen to the lyrics, a final option comes to light, blooming in the back of my mind.
The river…
I recall Zander’s words when I first came down here.
You can swim it, he’d told me. It takes you right down towards the far reaches of the southern quarter.
It flows underground from the pool, rushing through the rock beneath us. It’s my only chance.
I turn, and run, my muscles burning as I blast my body towards the foaming pool of water at the base of the waterfall. I cast my eyes back as I go, and see those I fear the most: Stalkers, dressed in their sleek black armour, shooting forward out of the tunnel and flashing straight across the cavern towards me.
Behind them, more lights brighten the place as squads of Con-Cops come, all now converging on me as I reach the water’s edge. I turn my eyes down to the water, frothing and surging wildly and rushing down into the underground river.
I quickly reach into my pocket and pull out my gas mask, slipping it back over my nose and mouth. It might just help me down there…
Then, suddenly, a voice comes from behind me, electronic and distorted.
“Stop right there. You’re surrounded.”
With my hood still drawn over my head, I hold up my arms and slowly turn around. Before me, I see several Stalkers, ten or so metres away, the cavern behind them still filling with light as the Con-Cops rush to join the fray.
“There’s no way out for you,” comes the Stalker’s voice, his odd helmet and visor serving to make his words more menacing. “Step forward, and you will not be harmed.”
I take the tiniest step back to the edge of the pool, the raging water a couple of metres below. My heels creep over the edge, and the spray of the water begins raining down on me.
I turn my eyes to the leading Stalker, and shake my head.
“Oh, I think I will,” I say.
And before they can raise their weapons to fire, I let my body drop back.
And into the freezing river I fall.
52
The sensation as I hit the water is like nothing I’ve ever felt.
My lungs seem to freeze, my entire body turning to cold stone as I enter the froth, plunging deep and immediately losing my bearings.
Above me, I see the glowing barrels of pulse rifles appear through the white veil of foaming water, ready to aim and fire. But they’re too late.
Hitting the current, my body is quickly pulled out of the pool and into an underwater cavern, the deep darkness closing in. With my eyesight blurred by the river, I’m barely able to see as I start to thrash and claw, dragging myself in the direction I think the surface to be.
A panic begins to engulf me as I fail to break through, my fingers reaching up and hitting only rock. Pulled along by the speeding water, I feel my lungs burning now instead of freezing, desperately calling for air as I continue to search for the surface.
The burning grows intense. So intense I need to breathe, to rip off my mask and suck in. Then, suddenly, unable to hold it any longer, I see a glow of light, and the white surface of the river appears.
I launch myself up, scrambling wildly, and break through. I pull down my mask and let it hang around my neck, and gasp to fill my lungs with fresh air. Just as I do so, I’m dragged back under, the river running wild and free through the drowned caves and tunnels.
Then, again, I reach a pocket of air, and take another swill of it. I reach to the side, gripping at the rocks to try to halt my motion, the water dancing over my head and shoulders and spitting into my eyes.
It pulls me straight off, my fingers slipping on greasy stone. I’m dragged along once more, this time along the surface, the river levelling out and slowing just a touch.
It takes no time to hit another wall, however, the water dragging me back down through an underwater cave. Such is the speed of the flow that I’m quickly being launched to the surface again, spluttering and gasping and praying for the torture to end.
Yet it’s the force of the current that keeps me alive as well. I’ve never been swimming before, don’t know how. Were the river to flatten into a calm pool, I might not make the surface.
But here, I have no control at all. I’m tossed and turned and swept along, my shoulders and arms and hands blasting against the rock. Bounced from wall to wall, then through a sunken tunnel, then back up to the heaving spume of the surface. The process continues over and over again as I try to calm myself, to search for some exit from this deathtrap.
Eventually, I see one, a little ledge to the water’s edge. A place to climb out.
From the other side of the river I thrash with all I have, kicking my legs and rolling my shoulders and pulling at the water with my arms. I reach out and try to grip the rock, and my fingers dig into a tight crevice as the water tries desperately to drag me away
.
Holding on, I pull with all my strength, reaching with my other arm for a firmer hold. My eyes flash up and I see a passage ahead, leading up and out of this place.
I must be in the southern quarter. This must be the way out...
Clinging on for dear life, my arms start to throb and my fingers start to slip. With a final surge, I reach out and grip my spare hand to a shallow crack. I heave forward and drag my body closer to freedom, the tunnel so tantalisingly near.
One. More. Heave…
I expend all my energy, gather all my might, and pull. My fingers dart with pain, my arms turn to rubber. I drag my neck, then chest, a little way onto the ledge.
So close…
But the river has the final word.
With a sudden swell, it grips me again, and my drained limbs can’t fight back. I’m hauled unceremoniously from the ledge, the ruthless river tugging me back into its midst. I plunge and tumble into the icy depths, my desire to fight back waning.
And as I enter another tunnel, and am pulled back beneath the surface, a terrifying thought enters my mind.
I’m going to die down here.
And no one will ever find me.
Thrown about, I let my body hang loose, unable to do anything now. I hit another wall, my back smashed against it, before being sucked down to the bottom. My legs scrape along the writhing riverbed, underwater reeds now entering the game.
They try to grip my feet, tangle my ankles, hold me down and keep me in this nightmare.
Once more, my body calls for air, and my survival instinct kicks in again. Thoughts of my friends, my family, bursts into my head, bringing a fresh vigour and strength to my limbs. I reach down and grip the slimy reeds, tearing them from my feet.
Under attack from my fingers, they release me, and I’m swung back to the surface. My lungs feel air again as my body hits another rock, the river twisting its course.
Once more, my tired limbs relax, unable to do much more than splash fruitlessly in the surf. I turn my eyes to the walls and search for another opening. None appear.
Then, with the river turning again, I’m battered against the jagged rock, and my neck snaps back, smashing the back of my skull.
I feel my brain suddenly fog, and my eyesight begin to blur, just as the river starts to straighten back out.
And as it does, through my fading eyes, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Soft and pale, it glows comfortingly, drawing me in. And as it nears, another sound comes, one I’ve grown to know well.
A waterfall.
With my mind covered in mist, I’m unable to do much but let myself be drawn on, speeding faster as I approach the precipice.
I blink hard, and my eyes clear, and through the end of the tunnel I see something I’ve never seen so close before.
Trees. Woodland. Rising hills in the distance.
I reach the end with a final breath, and to the edge of the waterfall I go. I see a flash below before I fall, see the lake spreading out in all directions, see the woods and marshes that litter the lands beyond.
I tumble. My body rocks and rolls. Thirty metres below, the swelling water awaits, rushing up to my eyes in an instant.
I shut them tight, and aim my feet down, and crash straight into the froth, disappearing into the silence beneath the surface once more.
I’m dragged several metres down, and summon my final ounces of strength to kick my way to the top.
I reach it and gasp, my body floating off away on the ripples, my mind struggling not to fade into darkness. The pool is calmer now, no longer rushing or surging, no current sucking me through the deadly tunnels.
I’m pushed straight to the side by the force of the tumbling water, and soon enough feel the alien touch of wet sand and thick mud beneath me.
I drag myself onto the shore, and look up into the moonlight, casting down its soft glow from above. Then I turn and look at the trees and marshes, and the toxic green mist that hovers several feet above its surface.
My faltering mind wanders, searching for answers.
The river must have dragged me beyond the city walls, right out of the southern quarter. I weakly look back at the waterfall, and upon the cave that just spat me out, hidden in the high rock wall.
Above it, another light glows. But not moonlight. Not pale and natural, but glowing a sickly yellow.
The High Tower, way off in the distance.
My body begins to wane, my mind fading. I reach down and feel for the gas mask around my neck, and slowly pull it up over my mouth and nose.
And as my head drops back into the mud, and the darkness closes in around my eyes, I fall to the blackness with a single thought.
I have to get back to the city.
I have to complete my mission…
The Enhanced will continue in Part Three…Nameless.
Part III
NAMELESS
53
My eyes crack open, drawing in the first shards of sunlight. The feel of dried mud breaks on my skin as I lift my head from the riverbank, the shape of green trees coming into focus ahead of me.
I push up from the muddy shore, my entire body caked in dirt, and immediately feel the heavy throb pulsing in my skull. I struggle to sit up, reaching around to feel the matted lumps of bloodied hair at the back of my head.
A gash cuts across it, the skin split open from when I cracked my head on the rocky wall. It’s sore to the touch, sending a further pulse of dizziness through me as I sit and cast my eyes back up to the tumbling waterfall.
Around me, the sun is only just starting to rise, creeping through between the trunks of trees and lighting up the hovering green mist. I must have been out for hours, slumped on this shore some way outside of the city.
Once more, I look beyond the cliff and see the top of the High Tower glowing in the red sky of dawn, perpetually lit and an eternal beacon visible from so many miles away.
Across my mouth and nose, the gas mask still lies intact. At least I’d had the sense to put in on before I passed out, lethal as the toxic fumes can be out here beyond the city walls.
Near the water, however, I seem to be in some sort of safe zone, the toxic air sticking mainly to the woods and marshes that surround me. I turn in all directions to see if I can spot a path through.
Nothing obvious sticks out.
I lift my eyes back to the cliff, where the river spurts from the high opening, and see that it extends right across in front of me in both directions, an impassable wall blocking my way home.
There’s a chill to me, my muscles sluggish as I try to stand. My legs feel weak beneath me, my body badly bruised from my brutal journey down the river. My back aches as I attempt to stretch out my limbs, every joint in me feeling inelastic and brittle.
I collapse back down to the soft floor, my clothes still damp and wrapping me in an icy blanket. I pull my arms into my chest, my entire frame shivering as I begin to try to rub myself warm.
My motion is too slow, my body too cold. I raise my eyes to the far side of the lake, where the sun appears to have broken through onto the shore, casting a large patch in an inviting orange glow.
I rise back to my feet with difficulty, every movement a struggle, and begin shuffling around the shoreline, crossing the trickling river that continues off from the lake into the woods at a gentle pace.
I manage a scowl at the languid and leisurely motion of the water, so different from the raging beast flowing down from above me. I spare little thought for much else, though, my single focus right now on getting warm.
Within a few minutes, I’m gingerly entering into the low sunlight, blooming through a gap in the eerie woods. I find a suitable spot on the shore and sit back down, facing right at the sun and closing my eyes as its rays begin to warm me.
I sit for a while, unable to think or do anything but wait for my muscles to thaw. As the sun continues its climb, its bright light lifting, the gap through the trees becomes clearer.
I look ahead and see the
rolling hills in the distance, drifting far away from the city at my back, stretching into the unknown and dangerous world beyond. Still trembling, I sit and rub my arms and chest, transfixed by the silence and natural features that surround me.
All my life, I’ve wished to see what it was like beyond the city walls. To discover the smell of trees or the taste of water from a spring. To walk in the high passes of the mountains or ramble through the woods searching out the weird and wonderful wildlife.
Yet I never imagined that it would happen. And if I had, this wouldn’t be how the fantasy would have gone. Now, as my body begins to wake, my only thoughts turn to escaping this eerie, peaceful place, and returning to the city I’ve grown to hate and longed to escape.
I manage a small smile at my predicament, and the strange ironies that life throws at you.
It doesn’t last long, though. I have no idea exactly where I am, or how far the city is. The High Tower is visible, so I can’t be too far, and yet with the cliffs blocking my view, I can’t work out how far the city boundary might be.
As I work to warm my body, I consider my options.
Scaling the cliff looks impossible. You’d have to be a professional climber for that, or else have absolutely no other alternative. Right now, neither applies. I’m sure I can think of something better.
More obvious is the option of working around the cliffs by navigating through the woods and marshes. As I look at them now, they’re fairly dense and look none-too-appealing. Add to that the stories I’ve heard of strange, deformed beasts that roam the wild, and the idea doesn’t seem particularly attractive.
Yet, I don’t appear to have a choice. Thankfully, I have my gas mask, and a fair enough coating of clothes to shield me, temporarily at least, from the toxic mist. As long as the jagged cliffs ahead don’t go too far, I should be able to work my way around, and hopefully get within view of the city walls.
Of course, that’s another issue: how to get past the wall?