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Chapter 3: A Dark and Watery Stroll
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Tristan Harlow:
Shaking my blood from my hand, I look at Rebecca.
"Deals like the one I've just offered you are about as rare as an apple these days," Rebecca says, letting down her fist. "Come on, drifter. You're planning to get out of here soon, right? Well, can't you use one last payday before you go? One massive payday? With all the ration cards you got coming, you can buy whatever the hell you'll need and want; foods, water, gas filters, bullets, new guns. The list goes on and on."
"A lot like this," I say, crossing my arms. "Fine! I'll go on your damn suicide mission!
A smile growing across Rebecca's face, she nudges her head and begins walking. Following behind her, she fills me in on some missing details.
"The warehouse is in Zone 10, so we'll have to go through a few checkpoints to reach it. Still got that fake ID I got you on day one?"
"Right here," I reply, pulling the ID from my pocket. "Tristan Harlow, resident of Zone 6."
"Awesome. Maybe this won't be so bad after all."
Letting out a puff of air, I shake my head.
"When shit can hit the fan," I think, "It will."
The sound of a bell echoing throughout the bunker, signaling morning, some people start waking up, their makeshift stores and stalls also opening up.
"Hey," I hear someone scream, "I was here first! Get behind me!"
"Piss off you son of a bitch," someone yells back.
"Shut up both of you," the stall owner shouts. "I have plenty of fry rats to go around. Just make sure you have something to trade."
Seeing a customer trade a pair of old boots for two fry rats, the guy starts eating his breakfast.
"Come on," another stall owner screams, walking around with his arms spread out. "Come on! I got weapons for sale! Pipe! Wooden plank! Even a few shives! Who wants one! Come on! I'll take anything!"
Making our way through the crowded marketplace, we find ourselves in front of a heavily guarded chain link fence. At least 20 feet tall, soldiers in pale-blue uniforms surround it, a few armed with pistols and a few others armed with assault rifles. Hanging above the gate is a massive sign that says Zone 7.
Walking up to the fence, a soldier with tired, dead eyes stops us.
"Passport and reason for visit, please," he says.
Pulling out our IDs, we then hand them over. Taking them, the soldier did a quick check.
"We have some business with some soldiers in Zone 9," Rebecca says, "Recruitment."
The soldier's eyes go wide, he gives us our IDs back. Turning around, he whispers and waves his hand.
"Let them through," he orders, the chain-link gate slowly opening.
"Thanks," Rebecca says, the soldiers stepping aside and letting us pass through. The gate closing, we went back to walking.
"An exhausted soldier's favorite word is recruitment," Rebecca says, laughing a little. "It means less for him to do."
"You think that will work on three more checkpoints," I ask, pushing some guy aside.
"Probably," Rebecca answers. "I made a few deals with soldiers in the past, and from what I heard from them, they don't get much rest."
"Hmm," I reply.
Finding ourselves in another marketplace, we cut through a narrow alley and reach the second checkpoint.
"Hey, hey, hey," a soldier in a similar uniform screams. Aiming his gun at us, we stop and raise our hands. "Get back! Get back! That is an order!"
Backing away, we pull out our IDs.
"No," the soldier screams. "Our gate is under construction due to a Rebel's attack. No one is allowed through."
"A Rebel's attack," I repeat, now noticing a bunch of trucks and engineers fixing a giant hole in the fence.
"Fuck," Rebecca whispers, putting away our IDs. Having to walk away, I turn back to the fence.
"So much for a stroll through the checkpoints," I say. "Don't suppose you have another way through?"
"Yeah," Rebecca answers, "But I'm not a big fan of it. Come on drifter. This way."
Bumping me in the arm, she leads me to this small, wooden, one-story house. Stepping onto the front porch, the whole house creaking as we did, Rebecca knocks on the door.
"Fuck off," a voice on the inside screams. "I ain't got nothing worth stealing!"
"I know you don't you old fuck," Rebecca screams back. "Now let us in!"
"Oh sorry about that Rebecca," the voice says, the sound of the door unlocking before it opens and reveals a tall man with a cap and an orange shirt.
"Hey," she says, shooting the guy a quick wave. "We need to access Zone 10, but the checkpoint is closed. We need to use the sewer way."
Nodding his head, he steps aside and lets the two of us in. Once in, he closes the door and motions for us to follow with a wave of his hand. Leading us to a small living room, a sofa against one wall, a stain-covered rug on the ground, and an empty t.v. stand opposite to the sofa, the man pulls up against the empty t.v. stand, revealing a hidden pathway behind it.
"Thanks," Rebecca says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out some ration cards. Taking them, he waves back and watches as we enter the pathway. Closing it back up as soon as we enter, I reach into my pack and pull out a small lighter. Barely lighting the literal hole in the wall, we have to crouch walk through it, stopping only when Rebecca points to a small hole in the ground. Climbing into it, I reluctantly follow after.
"Holy hell," I cry as my feet hit the freezing cold water. The blood in my feet turning into ice, I put my lighter away and immediately start blowing into my hands. "Rebecca, what the hell is this place?"
"This is one of the bunker's sewer lines," Rebecca replies. "It should lead to the main sewer line which connects to all the zones. Come on. Oh and be careful, because the rats here are hungry."
Rebecca:
Holding back a laugh when I see Drifter pulls out his pistol, I begin leading the way through the cramp, dark sewer line. Having to mostly feel my way around, I am glad to hear the sound of running water. Following it, Drifter and I reach the main sewer line.
Water pouring down at a rapid speed, I look at the opposite wall, a bunch of other sewer lines in it. Counting the sewer lines, I figure which one is the one for Zone 10 and bump Drifter in the head.
"That one," I say, pointing at a sewer line further up the wall. "That's the one we need to climb into."
"And that's what's in our way," Drifter says, pointing at the running water.
"It's not as deep as it seems," I say, jumping right in. Hitting the bottom, the water only going as high as my chest, I still had to struggle against the speed. Climbing up against the rushing water, I carefully walk toward the other wall. Slipping a dozen times, I finally reach the other wall and grab onto a sewer line.
"Your turn Drifter," I say, spitting out sewer water.
Tristan:
"It's not too late to turn around," I say to myself. About to turn around, I stop when I hear some rats squeaking! Jumping into the freezing, cold water, I slip on something and fall right into the freezing cold water!
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Jacob: I scream as I pull back my head. My cry echoes throughout the bunker as I look down and see myself bleeding. "Ahhh," I yell. I slam my hands on the bullet wound and push down. I stop screaming and bite down on my lips as I try to endure the pain. While enduring the pain, I look up and see the barrel of a handgun pointed right at me. "Why were you trying to steal food," Jim yells. I try to answer him but when I open my mouth, all that comes out are screams. Jim shakes his head as he shoots in the leg. I scream even louder as blood pours out from my leg. "Why were you trying to steal food," Jim yells again. He aims his handgun at my head. I can't answer him. I want to answer Jim but I can't. It hurts too much. My body is on fire. Everything burns, and all I can do is shake uncontrollably. "Come on," Jim says, waving his gun in front of me. "Say something! Why were you trying to steal food?" I look around a
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