Chapter 7
The Crawl wasn’t what I expected. I thought the ceilings would be low, but I could walk upright just fine.
I figured I’d see dead bodies—or at least a skeleton or two.
There were plenty of bodies, but they were all very much alive.
It was like an entire city was alive below Dreswick, and I’d never known it.
I felt eyes on me everywhere. I got the sense they didn’t see a lot of tourists around here.
Most of the Crawl’s occupants resembled bums, with torn, dirty clothes and pale skin from lack of sunlight. Some carried weapons, but most didn’t—at least not weapons I could see.
Surprisingly, even with the number of people, the place didn’t smell of body odor and piss.
Ancient air filtration pipes ran across the ceilings, humming as they pushed out air.
They built the old stuff to last—nothing like the new stuff aboveground that seemed to have a shelf life of one day after you installed it.
But the cleaners weren’t perfect—the tunnels had a dampness that permeated my clothes and delivered a scent of mildew on every inhalation.
But it was still better than most parts of Dreswick…
and a lot better than my apartment building that stunk of leaky plumbing and soggy cardboard.
Aside from the lack of windows, the tunnels weren’t so bad. The colorful graffiti that covered the walls gave the place a sense of humanity. And it was refreshing not having the hum of surveillance drones everywhere. Why did the enforcers leave this place alone?
I continued through the tunnels, searching for a place that I could lie low for a while. Along the stone walls were doors that led into what must’ve been the original habitats, and I suspected they were still in use since most doors had new padlocks. I stopped at one door without a lock.
I made sure no one was looking at me before I asked Byte, “What do you think? Should I try it?”
You require concealment, and I have not yet identified a refuge for us. Try it, but I recommend you exercise extreme caution. There could be an automated security system.
I glanced around. “I doubt there’s an automated anything around here, but I know what you’re saying. After all, Careful is my middle name.”
No, it isn’t. Your middle name is Winston.
I tentatively grabbed the handle and pressed inward just far enough to peek inside.
A single light illuminated a small room with only a table and four chairs—all of which looked like they should’ve been cut up for firewood a decade ago.
That the light still worked didn’t mean much.
Throughout Dreswick, lights automatically came on at dusk and shut off at dawn unless the occupant overrode the efficiency code.
But the table and chairs made me curious, as did the closed door on the far side.
“Hello?” I asked. Where there was no answer, I entered. “As hideouts go, this one’s not so bad, right?”
Since you were able to enter without any deterrent, it is not ideal as a temporary shelter. Anyone could enter.
“I can bust up the table to make a crossbar to lock the door,” I said.
The far door opened, and an old, hunched-over man with a thick beard and shaggy hair stepped out, holding a rusty machete. “You ain’t bustin’ up nuthin’.”
I froze. “Uh.”
It appears this is not a refuge.
I slowly held up my hands to show I had no weapon. “Whoa there, buddy. I don’t mean you no trouble. I thought this place was abandoned.”
“Why would ya think that?” He scowled. “What do ya want?”
“Listen,” I said as gently as possible. “I’m new down here?—”
“Think I can’t see dat? Ya stink of topside.”
Stink? He was the one that was overdue for a shower by about a year. “I was just looking for a place to stay for a bit. That’s all, I swear,” I finished.
“Well, ya ain’t stayin’ here.” He wagged the machete at the door. “This here’s my place. Won it fair and square. Go git yer own.”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” I backed out of the room, but before I closed the door, I asked, “I don’t suppose you know of a place around here that I could crash for a day, maybe two?”
His lips curled into what was about to be a snarl, but instead he said, “Try the market.”
I frowned. “The fish market?”
Using his machete, he pointed in the opposite direction from which I’d come. “The market down here, ya idjit. Now, git yerself gone.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I pulled the door closed.
It seems that a door without a lock does not mean it is unoccupied.
“Where were your super senses on that, huh?” I asked. “You could’ve warned me about that guy.”
The stone deadens sound. By the time he opened the door, even your middling senses had identified the threat.
However, you were in little danger. His heart rate was elevated.
He was more afraid of you than you were of him.
I believe he thought you were intending to kill him and take his place.
I advise you to be more careful next time.
The next occupant may be more aggressive.
“There isn’t going to be a next one. I’m going to find the market,” I said as I began walking briskly in the direction the old timer had pointed.
If there are enforcers or surveillance drones searching these tunnels, they will undoubtedly be scouring this market.
“I know, I know,” I muttered. “But it’s not like we’ve got any better options.”
The tunnel came to an intersection where two tunnels—both roughly the same size—went in either direction. Both were equally lit, and I couldn’t tell which was the main one. A kid, no more than twelve, jogged down one, carrying a bag. A runner.
“Hey, kid,” I said, stepping in her path.
She jumped out of my reach, glaring.
“Which way’s the market?” I asked, realizing too late that she probably thought I was about to mug her.
She didn’t seem to believe me. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She eyed me funny, then pointed high on the wall, where arrows of various colors were painted.
“Orange line leads to the market, green line to topside doors,” she said and then edged suspiciously around me.
As she passed by, I asked, “What’re the black lines?”
“Dead ends,” she said and took off running.
“I don’t think that was what she was referring to when she said they were dead ends,” I mused to myself.
Ah, you believe it was a double entendre.
“I just think it’s probably a good idea to avoid those tunnels.”
I wholeheartedly agree.
I followed the orange arrows for another ten minutes before I couldn’t mistake the smells and sounds of a bustling market.
Being underground, the noise reverberated off the stone walls.
I turned the corner to find a section of tunnel carved out to be about three times the width of the tunnels I came from.
Vendor stands lined the graffitied walls.
This market was nowhere near the size of the fish market, but it still had at least twenty vendors with food and wares.
There must’ve been fifty people milling around.
While this underground colony is not exactly impressive, I am surprised the authorities on the surface allow it to exist.
“No kidding.” All of this had been under my feet the entire time.
I figured I’d see a dozen bums down here, at most—and packs of rats of monstrous size—but this was an entire city under a city.
Pretty good marketing on someone’s part, whether that was by the crawlers themselves to keep attention away or by enforcers trying to keep people from going down here.
My stomach growled, and I realized I was starving again even though I’d had a meal bar only a few hours earlier.
I began making my way through the market, trying to blend in, but with the way people looked at me and moved out of my way, I stood out like the outsider I was.
It was too obvious. Most of the people had pale skin while mine had a hint of a tan from living topside, not that I had many daylight hours free to spend outside.
People looked to be in as good of health as anyone in Dreswick, which wasn’t saying much, but it was more than I’d expected from living like rats.
What I did expect was hard, dangerous looks that were sharper than my knife.
Every single one of these people were dangerous—as if they were all a little feral… and a lot violent.
I already missed topside. By now, Nolan would be sitting at Miho’s in the market (the other market), eating Rats-a-roni alone…
assuming the enforcers didn’t hold him back for questioning.
Nah, they couldn’t have. The bastards had come after me right away.
But if I went back up to the surface, and they saw me with Nolan…
No matter what, I couldn’t reach out to him to check in.
They’d be watching him, waiting for me to do something stupid like that.
Are you sure it is safe to be in such proximity to the local population? They are undoubtedly dangerous, and they may carry viruses or bacteria that could prove deadly to us.
“Either way, it’s less dangerous than being topside for the time being,” I said as quietly as I could, constantly scanning for enforcers or drones but seeing neither.
I do not necessarily agree with that logic. And not that my opinion matters, but I, for one, would prefer to live longer than one day.
“Your opinion is noted. But until you grow a pair of legs and can walk yourself, I’m in charge.”
As I was weaving through the market, I felt the telltale touch on my cargo pocket. I lashed out and grabbed the wrist before they could run off. Turned out to be a boy—maybe twelve years old—who tried to pickpocket me.
You used your senses keenly. Well done.
I eyed the kid as I spoke. “I’ve lived in Dreswick my whole life, and I’ve done my share of pickpocketing. You’ll have to be better than that to steal from me, little brother.”