walked, throwing terrible shadows on the stained walls.
To make matters worse, as she approached the far wall—this one intact—she saw faint red-brown letters smeared onto the pale surface. Most were too faded for their meaning to be clear, but two phrases had been dug into the rock with someone’s bloody fingers: first, save me, and then, lower down, running toward the floor as if in desperation, god has forsaken us. The truth registered at once. They weren’t all dead when they locked them in here. She could imagine few fates more horrible than to die in confinement, beyond all hope.
“This was some kind of…plague ward,” she said then.
“Where they sent people to die. No hope. No food and water.” Stone closed his eyes for a long moment, visibly controlling his reaction to the room where they stood. “Maybe the enclave wasn’t so bad after all.”
Thimble moved away from the awful artifact of the wall, toward the stairs. “It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but it wasn’t perfect either.”
“Do you think we should?” By his expression in the flickering torchlight, he didn’t want to go Topside.
Neither did she.
She reasoned, “It’s not far up…and we came down a bit to get here.”
“So it might take us back where we were? Or on the same level.”
“I suspect it connects to a different set of tunnels. Maybe these are cleaner, and the Freaks haven’t found them. They tend to hunt near enclaves.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Then we’re lost.”
She risked a half smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Consider us to be…exploring. I believe there’s something better out there.”
If we live long enough—endure long enough—to find it.
“Right.” But he smiled back, ready to follow where she led. There was an incredible, delightful power in it. She didn’t let herself think about the kiss.
Not here. Not now.
Later, when she had a safe moment in the dark, she’d relive it as she had done every time they stopped to rest. Each step hurt, but stopping wasn’t possible yet, so she found a place in her head where it receded. She’d told Stone that she needed to rest, but there would be no sleep surrounded by so many dead. Press on. We’ll find safety soon.
But it was an empty promise, one in which she could no longer completely believe. How could the two of them survive when the whole enclave was lost? Thimble didn’t permit her despair to show. When she reached the door, it was locked. Of course it was. And it must be barred from the outside or surely so many people would have broken it down with sheer weight. Unless they were so sick they lacked the power.
“Can you—” She started to ask, but a noise stole her voice.
It was the sound of footsteps, someone—or something—trying to be quiet. Maybe it’s a survivor , she thought, but fear made her heart beat a little faster. Then the noise died away for a few seconds. Resumed in the scattering of some rocks.
“Do we stay here to wait for it to find us or press on?” Stone asked.
Thimble shivered. “Do you want to fight in a room full of bones?”
“It would be hard to get my footing.”
“Then let’s go.”
He nodded. “Take Boy23 and move down the stairs. Give me some room.”
Because he never questioned her ideas, she paid him the same courtesy. Torch in hand, she sat and scooted down four steps and stayed on her backside, permitting her foot that much rest. The brat came to her with a pleased jumble of sounds, ahs and oohs that didn’t mean anything. Stone swung his weapon wide, slamming the haft against the rusty door handle. His brute strength showed in each blow; the metal jiggled, and then bent. On the sixth strike, the knob snapped off and bounced away, down into the shadows and skeletal remains.
He crouched to peer through the hole. “There’s a bar across the way, but it smells rotten. I think I can break it.”
Without waiting for her
To make matters worse, as she approached the far wall—this one intact—she saw faint red-brown letters smeared onto the pale surface. Most were too faded for their meaning to be clear, but two phrases had been dug into the rock with someone’s bloody fingers: first, save me, and then, lower down, running toward the floor as if in desperation, god has forsaken us. The truth registered at once. They weren’t all dead when they locked them in here. She could imagine few fates more horrible than to die in confinement, beyond all hope.
“This was some kind of…plague ward,” she said then.
“Where they sent people to die. No hope. No food and water.” Stone closed his eyes for a long moment, visibly controlling his reaction to the room where they stood. “Maybe the enclave wasn’t so bad after all.”
Thimble moved away from the awful artifact of the wall, toward the stairs. “It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but it wasn’t perfect either.”
“Do you think we should?” By his expression in the flickering torchlight, he didn’t want to go Topside.
Neither did she.
She reasoned, “It’s not far up…and we came down a bit to get here.”
“So it might take us back where we were? Or on the same level.”
“I suspect it connects to a different set of tunnels. Maybe these are cleaner, and the Freaks haven’t found them. They tend to hunt near enclaves.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Then we’re lost.”
She risked a half smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Consider us to be…exploring. I believe there’s something better out there.”
If we live long enough—endure long enough—to find it.
“Right.” But he smiled back, ready to follow where she led. There was an incredible, delightful power in it. She didn’t let herself think about the kiss.
Not here. Not now.
Later, when she had a safe moment in the dark, she’d relive it as she had done every time they stopped to rest. Each step hurt, but stopping wasn’t possible yet, so she found a place in her head where it receded. She’d told Stone that she needed to rest, but there would be no sleep surrounded by so many dead. Press on. We’ll find safety soon.
But it was an empty promise, one in which she could no longer completely believe. How could the two of them survive when the whole enclave was lost? Thimble didn’t permit her despair to show. When she reached the door, it was locked. Of course it was. And it must be barred from the outside or surely so many people would have broken it down with sheer weight. Unless they were so sick they lacked the power.
“Can you—” She started to ask, but a noise stole her voice.
It was the sound of footsteps, someone—or something—trying to be quiet. Maybe it’s a survivor , she thought, but fear made her heart beat a little faster. Then the noise died away for a few seconds. Resumed in the scattering of some rocks.
“Do we stay here to wait for it to find us or press on?” Stone asked.
Thimble shivered. “Do you want to fight in a room full of bones?”
“It would be hard to get my footing.”
“Then let’s go.”
He nodded. “Take Boy23 and move down the stairs. Give me some room.”
Because he never questioned her ideas, she paid him the same courtesy. Torch in hand, she sat and scooted down four steps and stayed on her backside, permitting her foot that much rest. The brat came to her with a pleased jumble of sounds, ahs and oohs that didn’t mean anything. Stone swung his weapon wide, slamming the haft against the rusty door handle. His brute strength showed in each blow; the metal jiggled, and then bent. On the sixth strike, the knob snapped off and bounced away, down into the shadows and skeletal remains.
He crouched to peer through the hole. “There’s a bar across the way, but it smells rotten. I think I can break it.”
Without waiting for her
Similar Books
