space.
“Oh!” I gasped.
We were in a huge cathedral- like space, complete with
massive concrete supporting arches leading up to the ceil-
ing. But it was the sludgy water I’d landed in that concerned
me more. I could feel it soaking through my socks. Huge
rats scurried away from the light and I shrieked and jumped
back up on the fi rst rung of the ladder.
“I was going to warn you but I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
I glared at him in the dim light.
“You seem to be doing that a lot!” I whispered. “Next
time, just warn me!”
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay, will do. It’s a little
gnangy down here and I’m not denyin’ 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 fl ashlights.”
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.
72
G L I TC H
“Here’s a fl ashlight.” He handed me a heavy black fl ash-
light. 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 cir-
cles 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 Tun-
nel. It goes for hundreds of miles all throughout the city.”
“Then how have I not heard of it? I mean, I live under-
ground.”
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 fl ooding,
so they left them alone.”
He motioned me forward and I followed him, keeping my
fl ashlight 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
73
Heather Anastasiu
gaping mouths. The light from the fl ashlights only cut
through the fi rst ten feet of darkness down each tunnel.
Adrien stopped. “Third tunnel on the right. Here we are.”
He pointed his fl ashlight 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 fl ashlight 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