“Wild dogs?” Gemma practically yelled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Her voice traveled down the pipes and soon the dogs were barking up a storm, and getting closer.
“Great,” Max said. “How many times are you going to almost get us killed bitch?”
“I didn't know,” Gemma pouted. “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry won't change what's coming,” Max said sourly.
“Looks like the pipe splits off to the left,” Gunner said. “Our best shot is to hurry ahead of them. Maybe there will be a ledge or a ladder back up.”
“We're not going back up top,” Parker said. “Not with them carpet bombing the city.”
“We'll get to that bridge when we cross it,” Gunner said, charging ahead and leading the way. He got little argument after that. The rest of the group blindly followed him while the sound of the dogs barking got neither closer nor farther away.
You better hope to God them dogs aren't being used to track us, Gunner thought. If the government set dogs us on we wouldn't last an hour.
A cold breeze rushed up and struck him as the tunnel slanted down again. They were coming to an underground intersection of some kind. It struck him as a good sign.
“Keep coming,” Gunner hollered. “We're almost at the crossroads.”
He dashed forward and felt something hard connect with his forehead. His feet came out from underneath him and he fell flat on his back. A bright light flashed into his eyes as he struggled to comprehend what was happening.
“That's far enough,” a man's low, gravelly voice said. Gunner heard the sound of a gun cocking and froze. “Let's see a show of hands.”
Gunner turned his head to see the rest of the group filing in. Behind them were two more men with flashlight helmets. The good news was they didn't look like soldiers. The bad news was they were armed to the teeth.
“Drop the weapons miss,” one of them growled at Max, who leaned over without argument and placed both short handled axes on the ground. The sound of the barking dogs grew closer. Gunner knew now they were well trained pets used to flush out intruders.
“Now what?” Gunner asked.
“Shut your mouth,” the man in front of him said. “When we get back to base you're going to answer a series of questions without hesitation. That's the time for talking. You better have the right answers too.”
Gunner got to his feet and they were marched further into the tunnels. After what felt like ten minutes of walking they reached the mouth of a large round pipe. Two young boys guarding it with spears. Their faces were covered with war paint.
“In you go,” the leader of the hunt said, nudging Gunner forward. Once inside he saw a large, well lit room that looked like the inside of a library. Light filtered in from grates on the sides. An older, gentle looking man with a salt and pepper beard and horn rimmed glasses sat thumbing through a book. Pear shaped and well into his sixties, the man seemed as out of place down here as Gunner could imagine possible.
“My name is Isiah,” he said, closing the book softly and turning to Gunner with a smile. “What is your name?”
“Why do you want to know?” Gunner felt a sharp sting as a metal rod connected with the back of his legs.
“Answer him,” a deep voice growled.
“That won't be necessary Thomas,” Isiah sang. “You may wait outside.”
“This one has military training,” Thomas argued. “I can smell it all over him.”
“Nevertheless,” Isiah said, moving forward as he spoke, “he and his friends are now our guests, turned to us in a time of crisis. They deserve to be treated with dignity and shown courtesy. Now, please leave us.”
“As you wish,” Thomas grunted.
“Thank you Thomas for your extraordinary service,” Isiah said. “I honestly don't know what I would do without you.”
Thomas seemed pleased with the praise. He held his head high.
“Behave yourself,” Thomas warned with a hiss.
With that he turned and marched noisily out of the room.
“Come closer,” Isiah said. “I've got a tin of cookies here somewhere in my desk. I know it.”
Gunner approached him cautiously.
“What is this place and who are these people?”
“I must apologize for Thomas's behavior,” Isiah said with a frown. “He is an honest and good man. It's just that we've had some real trouble down here lately. First with the Overworld coming unglued and then with a rash of unexpected visitors.”
“The over world?”
“I suppose you'd call us underground,” Isiah said, finally locating a tin of cookies and prying off the lid. He couldn't hide his childlike joy. “Butter cookies! My favorite.”
He extended the tin to Gunner who took one and popped it in his mouth. It was factory fresh and practically melted on his tongue giving him the start of a sugar rush.
“We tunnel dwellers refer to your city up above us as Overworld you see,” Isiah said. “While a few of our more brave citizens venture up every now and again the vast majority of us haven't been up since before the turn of millennium. I think you called it the year two thousand.”
“What do you call it?”
“It doesn't matter much,” Isiah smiled. “Fact of the matter is we've got everything we need down here without the hassles of your modern day living. For every so called advancement you've made your world has become exponentially more dangerous. You are reaping the effects of that now.”
“You mentioned visitors,” Gunner said. “Did you mean zombies?”
“No,” Isiah said, the smile slowly vanishing from his face. “Those wretched infected overlanders never made it past our dogs I'm afraid. The few that wandered into our protected network of tunnels were torn to shreds. No the visitors I am referring to tend to wear green camouflage and carry guns. They are not very polite and they ask a lot of questions we are not interested in answering.”
“Soldiers,” Gunner muttered.
“That's what Thomas is worried about,” Isiah said. “We all are. He saw your clothing and obviously it caused him great concern about what your intentions are. You see, we can weather out floods and inclement weather. To us they are part of the cycle of daily life. Murderous overlanders with guns are another story altogether. Your presence here endangers us all. You must realize that.”
“Sorry to rain on your parade,” Gunner said rubbing his forehead where he'd been hit. “We were just passing through, that is before you interrupted us to have this little chat.”
“So you don't plan on staying?” Isiah prodded.
“With all due respect,” Gunner said, “I'm planning on leaving this place the minute you call off your dogs. I'm responsible for getting these kids to safety.”
“And how will you do that?” Isiah asked. “Now that the world you used to live in is in tatters?”
“My plan was to head towards the Strip,” Gunner said. “There should be a surplus of working vehicles up there and maybe some supplies. From that point we can access the highway and hopefully leave this town in our rear view mirror.”
“I see,” Isiah said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Gunner helped himself to another cookie.
Fuck it, he thought. Might as well since they are planning on dumping us back up top as soon as possible. I'm not likely to get one of these again for a long time.
“I'm hoping they haven't carpet bombed it yet,” Gunner said as he noisily chomped on his treat. “We saw fighter jets pass overhead on our way down, They were bombing residential parts of the city.”
“We can't be sure but we believe they were merely trying to drive the infected towards their flamethrowers,” Isiah said. “So far as we can tell their clean up efforts are centered around their military base at the moment.”
“That's funny,” Gunner laughed. “We had pretty much the same idea, only we were trying to get to them, that is until they charbroiled one of our party for his troubles.”
Isiah seemed to come to
a decision.
“Here's what I can do for you,” he began. “I will have Thomas take you through our most protected passageways and back up to the main tunnels. You should know we don't bother to attempt to control those passageways close to the Strip. Too much overland traffic, so to speak, construction workers and telephone company people routinely down in them. It's nearly impossible to control access to those tunnels.”
“We'd be grateful for any help you could give us,” Gunner said.
“Make no mistake about it,” Isiah said, “it's for our protection too. Every minute you are down here is another minute overland soldiers might be down here searching for you, endangering the lives of our precious children.”
For the first time in a long time Gunner felt a pang of guilt. It wasn't his fault. How could he have known? He thought about the young boys he'd seen guarding this entrance. How many people were there living down here?
“No time to waste then,” Gunner replied. “Let's go.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” Isiah said sympathetically. “I have to worry about my people, same as you.”
They walked back to the mouth of the pipe. Thomas and his men were watching Parker, Max, Gemma, Travis, and Holt.
“What's the plan big guy?” Holt called out, still clutching his crowbar. No one had bothered to try to disarm him. He was far too unstable. Picking a fight with Holt would mean a fight to the death.
“We are giving you an armed escort through the heart of our world,” Isiah said. “You should be back up top and at your destination in under an hour.”
“What destination is that?” Parker asked sarcastically.
“The Strip,” Gunner said. “I'll fill you in along the way. Right now we've gotta go.”
“We'd like to stay,” Travis blurted out, holding Gemma's hand.
“What?” Max wheeled around to face them.
“Come on Travis,” Parker said. “You can't live down here with these freaks.”
Thomas snorted and flexed, causing Parker to flinch.
“Just listen,” Travis said. “Gemma and I got to talking. We both agree. It's a miracle that none of us have been killed or turned so far. We have no idea what we're doing or where we are going. We don't even know if there is a safe zone up there!”
“Travis,” Max said in a soft voice. “That's no reason to give up hope.”
“Maybe it is,” Gemma mumbled.
“Let's face it,” Travis said. “We're not like you. I'm a geek and Gemma is a princess. That's what you all think of us.”
“Now wait just a minute McAnus,” Holt argued.
“It's true,” Travis said. “If we go with you we're just going to slow you down and probably end up getting you killed. Being down here is the first time since all this madness started that I feel safe.”
“You're saying you're just going to trust these strangers?” Parker raged. “Who knows what they will do to you the minute we leave?”
“But I do trust them,” Travis said turning to Isiah. “Please, can we stay down here with you? We will both work hard to become productive members of your society.”
“Do any other members of your group want to stay behind?” Isiah asked. Max hung her head. Parker stared defiantly at him. Holt smiled and shook his head no.
“I guess not,” Travis said.
“Very well then,” Isiah said. “In that case we would be glad to accommodate you. From this point forward you are no longer overlanders. You are now part of the tribe of tunnel people. We shall have a celebration to welcome you, just as soon as we see your friends on their way.”
“Thank you,” Travis said.
“Thank God,” Gemma sighed in relief.
Travis turned to Parker.
“Well,” Parker said, trying to sound happy for him, “I guess this is the end of the road for us.”
“Are you mad?”
“No,” Parker replied. “I guess it makes sense. You take good care of her.”
“We'll take good care of each other,” Gemma said, kissing Parker on the cheek.
“Thanks for coming for us,” Travis said to Gunner. “If it wasn't for you we'd be dead for sure.”
“I'm sorry to be so gruff,” Isiah said, “but we don't have much time.”
They exchanged hugs while Thomas talked privately to Isiah. Thomas returned alone.
“You two,” Thomas barked at Travis and Gemma, “report to Isiah in his office at once. He has a lot to tell you about how things work around here.”
Travis and Gemma gave the rest sidelong glances as they scurried off into the mouth of the pipe that led to Isiah's lair.
Wonder if he's gonna share cookies with them as well, Gunner thought.
“The rest of you,” Thomas said, “follow me.”
He turned and began marching into a downward sloping tunnel that led off to the left in the direction of the Strip.
“After you,” Max said to Parker.
“Ladies first,” he replied with a smirk.
“Why don't you two just fuck and get it over with already,” Gunner said, walking past them into the blackness.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
The sound of water flowing downhill, steadily trickling through storm drains and sinks, drowned out everything but their deepest fears. Thomas had done his job, leading them through a long clean tunnel levels below the surface that came up adjacent to Las Vegas Boulevard.
“You are on your own from here,” he said gravely as he swung open a door that locked from the inside, revealing a dirty concrete tunnel above them. “Good luck overlanders.”
Thomas had slammed the door shut and locked it unceremoniously not a second after Max, Parker, Holt, and Gunner had made their way through. Sounds from the surface trickled down through the tunnels as well, reminding them of what awaited back up top.
Parker had relieved Travis of his flares when they said goodbye. He lit one and gave it to Gunner.
“Thanks,” Gunner grumbled.
It’s amazing how quickly you can adjust to the worst of circumstances, Parker observed to himself as they shuffled blindly along under the earth. He thought about how his mind blocked out the smell of cologne shortly after he put it on, a lesson he'd learned the hard way in high school. It’s too bad that the eyes don’t adjust as well as the nose does.
Within a short distance, they'd come to a major intersection which entered the aqueduct and turned left. They followed it. A frigid breeze whooshed past them as they walked on in silence, quickly losing all track of time and distance. The partial darkness did that to you. Shadow light turned things around and distorted them until the imagination began to fill in the blanks, projecting a mix of your inner fears and expectations on the world around you. Down there, a sudden rush of water sounded like the clumsy, drunken scuffle of the undead, hunting you down, coming to feast on your warm flesh and salty blood.
Please let me make it out of here alive, Max thought. I’d sacrifice anything for just one peaceful day alone.
Given the level of stress and fear they were all experiencing at that moment, imagination was not really their friend anymore. Parker knew they had to be quiet, they had to just keep their heads down and keep moving no matter what, but still he was glad when Max finally broke their silence. The sound of her voice broke the terrible spell his mind had lulled him into, with one dreadful and impossible image after another popping into his head over and over. Judging by the immediate reaction of everyone else, he knew he was not alone in his thinking.
“How much farther is it?” Max whined.
“I don't see the cross street yet,” Gunner said, holding the bright red flare to the wall to check for markings. “It should be labeled.”
“Then we need to keep walking,” Parker's deep, stern voice echoed all around them.
“Don't worry,” Gunner said. “It shouldn't be long now.”
“I can't believe all this time they've been living underneath us,” Max said.
“I know what
you mean,” Parker replied. “Did you see their faces when we passed through? There must have been...”
“...thousands of them,” Max said in a voice little louder than a whisper.
“We need to keep the chatter to a minimum,” Gunner cautioned. “We don't want to attract any unwanted attention to ourselves, now do we?”
As if on cue a low, deep growl sounded nearby, echoing around them until it was hard to tell which direction it had come from . . . in front of or behind them.
“Too late for that,” Max said in her usual abrasive tone. “Listen.”
Splashing water sounds reached them from somewhere in the distance, accompanied by an echoing crash. Everyone froze dead in their tracks, holding their breath. What felt like minutes ticked by as they stood rooted in place. Parker couldn't take it anymore. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin if he didn't say something.
“Maybe they left?” he whispered.
“Not likely,” Gunner chimed in.
There was another sound close by, like the scraping of feet, followed by the same terrifying growl.
“It sounds like it's coming from behind us,” Max said.
As they argued, Flynn walked out into the light, foam dripping from his snarling mouth. His eyes glowed an evil, blood-drenched red, reflecting the meek light of the road flare. His left ear had been bitten off, and a small chunk of flesh about the size and shape of a bite wound marked his left cheek down to the white of the bone. The visible skin of his arms was a tattered mess of ragged flesh, shredded by countless teeth marks as if a pack of wild animals had set upon him. There was no mistaking him this time. He was definitely one of them.
“Flynn,” Parker said, unable to hide a note of disappointment in his voice.
Flynn turned to face him. Was that recognition Parker saw? Did he know who they were? Was some part of him trapped inside the remains of his former body, silently screaming in protest as his dark passenger drove him to commit unspeakable acts of depravity in the service of a bottomless hunger? It was too terrible to contemplate. Parker immediately pushed it from his mind.
If any sign of intelligence was still left in him it was quickly extinguished as he opened his bloody mouth and roared a fierce cry before lunging at Max. Max stood frozen in fear. She wasn't expecting it. She was far from ready to battle one of her neighbors boyfriends to the death. Cold shivers ran through her as she realized this was how she was going to die. Everything seemed to slow down, the numbness reaching down into the core of her being. Max tensed up, ready for the bite, accepting the terrible fate that awaited her, when a loud crack rang out in her ears.
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