Free Glitch by Heather Anastasiu Page A

that there’s a … bit of a rodent population. But it’s not dangerous.”
    He handed me some thick rubber knee-high boots. “Here, put these on. We keep ’em stored here along with flashlights.”
    I shook my foot to try to get the excess water out of my shoe, slipped one leg into the boot, then the other. Adrien held out a hand and I dared to step back into the ankle-high water. It was black and oily, with a thick scum covering the surface. And it smelled horrible, like rotten eggs and rancid butter mixed together.
    “Here’s a flashlight.” He handed me a heavy black flashlight. I wiped my hands on my pants and took it. The chamber we were in was huge and rectangular, with arched concrete struts that led to the ceiling, which was so high I could only barely make it out. As we made our way down the chamber, I realized that what had looked like black circles on the wall were actually other tunnels leading out.
    “What is this place?” I asked softly. “Are you sure it’s safe? No cameras?”
    “Nope, not down here. This is an old combined sewage and storm-drain tunnel. It used to be called the Deep Tunnel. It goes for hundreds of miles all throughout the city.”
    “Then how have I not heard of it? I mean, I live underground.”
    He nodded. “Downtown, most of these old tunnels were demolished or rebuilt as part of the infrastructure of the underground city. These ones were too prone to flooding, so they left them alone.”
    He motioned me forward and I followed him, keeping my flashlight beam in front of my feet so I’d know where I was stepping.
    I put one arm over my nose at the smell. “I think I might vomit.”
    “Sorry,” Adrien said. “Just try not to think about it. It’ll get better once we get out of the central chamber.”
    I nodded and followed him, trying to move my feet through the water smoothly rather than taking big splashing steps. As we came to the end of the chamber, I peered down the circular entrances that opened in the walls like giant gaping mouths. The light from the flashlights only cut through the first ten feet of darkness down each tunnel.
    Adrien stopped. “Third tunnel on the right. Here we are.”
    He pointed his flashlight toward a tunnel at least thirty feet in diameter. He stepped up, his boots splashing up the foul water as he went. I followed, trying to lift each foot slowly to keep the splash to a minimum. I swept my flashlight ahead but could see only the endless tunnel until it curved out of sight to the left.
    “How far are we going?”
    “Far,” Adrien said. “A mile down, we’ll branch off again to a narrower tunnel that leads to my mom’s place.”
    “You really know your way around here.”
    “I grew up haunting these tunnels.” He walked smoothly, sure-footed even in the sludge. “We spent a lot of time here when I was small, running ops into the city. Sometimes a cell would get cracked and my mom’d have to stow me away somewhere safe, like these tunnels. Always with a map to memorize and a backpack full of provos in case she didn’t come back.” His voice quieted at the end.
    “Adrien…” I felt so sad for him suddenly—imagining him as a small child, cowering in the dark all alone—but I didn’t know the right words to express it. I thought about earlier, how he’d squeezed my hand when I was afraid and how it had made me feel better. I reached over and took his hand.
    He seemed caught off-guard by my touch.
    “Thanks. It’s okay.” His voice was a little rough. “Long time ago, you know. Anyway. You said you had a bunch of questions. We have some time, so ask away.”
    “Okay,” I said slowly, thinking. All the little bits of information he’d haphazardly given here and there jumbled together in my mind. “You said D-day never really happened. But how is it possible that the Community could deceive everyone so completely?”
    He shook his head. “History isn’t all fact—it’s just the story the victors tell to keep