Endurance by Ann Aguirre

we’ll find a safe place to rest. Let me go first.”
    Thimble didn’t argue; she just fell in behind him, but he heard the way her foot dragged in cadence with the clack of the pole on the ground. Now it must hurt too much for her to lift. Step, slide. Step, slide. Her fortitude and bravery made him so proud to be here with her. When everything fell apart, she’d come in search of him . And it meant everything.
    The air in this narrower tunnel smelled damp, which meant they should find water soon. Good thing. Their bottles were almost empty. He’d heard of enclaves where they recycled bodily fluids during tough times, but things had never gotten so bad at College, through careful management of resources and population control. His throat burned; as a male Breeder, it was his role to go without. Boy23 came first, and then Thimble. He’d barely taken a drink all day.
    It was darker, too. Sometimes, in the bigger tunnels, the stones cracked overhead, permitting trickles of light. On the way here they had passed several great metal beasts turned onto their sides. The ground was littered with metal lines, some broken and twisted. But here, it was different. Newer. Cleaner. He made out shapes, the walls around him. He heard movement. Meat, skittering. The Hunters had brought these animals back in bags to be turned into hearty stew or roasted on a spit. Soon, the food would run out, and that would become his job as well. He wasn’t worried. Thimble would come up with the best way to catch the creatures.
    Further down the passage, the wall crumbled inward. A cool breeze wafted against his face, and he reached out to find the gap. She had said fresh air meant good things, so they should probably check this area out. He stepped forward into darkness and something crunched beneath his feet. In the gloom, he couldn’t make out what he was stepping on, so he turned to Thimble.
    “Do you have any torches left?”
    “I’ll light one.”
    He paused while she rummaged in the bag he carried for her and then the light flared, illuminating the floor before him. At first he didn’t understand what he saw, what the white glimmers represented. Behind him, Thimble sucked in a sharp breath, and her fingers laced through his. He drew her up close, one arm around her shoulders. On his other side Boy23 stared, though it was hard to tell how much the brat understood.
    “What is this place?”
    “I don’t know,” she answered.
    Thimble knelt to examine the bones and then glanced up at him. “They’re smooth.”
    “Which means they haven’t been chewed on.” A bright smile said she was pleased with him. It was the first time he could remember being praised for something other than his strength. “So…they weren’t killed by Freaks?”
    “I don’t think so. They just look like they’ve been dumped here.” No respect in the handling, either. The bones lay in piles, as if bodies had been stacked.
    “Remember how the Wordkeeper was always talking about the disease that killed so many people Topside and how our people went down below because it was safer?”
    So many stories, it was impossible to know what was true. There had been legends that seemed very unlikely, and yet obviously something had left the world in a terrible state. These people hadn’t died of violence, which left disease. That much of the Wordkeeper’s lore had been true then.
    She nodded. “I wonder if they just sealed up the bodies like this, out of sight.”
    A cold chill went through him “Maybe. But this isn’t how they came in.”
    Thimble followed his gaze toward the far side of the room, where crumbling stone stairs led up.

Eleven
    They had more than Freaks to worry about now. Pretending a confidence she didn’t feel, Thimble picked a careful path across the dead. The bones rattled and scraped, sometimes crunched, and she held a scream deep within her throat. Only Stone’s solid presence at her back kept her from panicking. The torch wavered as she