The shaft’s a comfortable one metre wide pipe with a metal ladder welded to one side. Redd shines his torch down into the hole, then sits down hanging his legs over the side of the pipe. In one motion he hoists himself onto the ladder and climbs out of sight but I can still see the glow of the torchlight. Dave’s next to descend the pipe, followed a short while later by a reluctant Neve. She wrinkles her nose in the torchlight before the blackness engulfs her.
Lake touches my back, urging me down into the hole, so I squat and take hold of the cold damp ladder. The pipe actually smells less like human excrement than I’d imagined; instead there’s an overwhelming smell of damp and mould that makes the air feel heavy when I inhale. The air’s stagnant but breathable, and I don’t think that we’ll be overcome. Above I hear the sound of metal clanking then the tunnel’s cast into complete darkness as Lake replaces the hatch behind him. I fumble beneath me, trying to feel the next rung down on the ladder, but instead I find something soft and squidgy beneath my foot. I think for a moment that I’ve reached the bottom of the pipe until I hear Neve curse.
“Goddamn it Zia, that’s me!”
“Sorry,” I call back and hear it echo down the tunnel.
“The bottom’s still a few more meters,” Redd calls, shining his torch up.
“I didn’t think it would be this deep,” Dave adds.
“Once you hit the bottom go right,” Redd instructs, flashing his torch up once more and almost blinding me. “That should take us under the compound wall.”
I continue descending, using regular and even steps until I step down once more and, instead of finding the next rung on the ladder, my foot splashes into water. I lower myself until I find firm ground, when the water is halfway up my calf. I reach to the right as instructed but all I can feel is the inside of the pipe. So I move my hands down the metal sheet until I find it give way and realise that the pipe that leads off also has a one metre wide diameter, but to fit though I’ll have to crawl on my hands and knees. I crouch down into the ice-cold water which reaches halfway up my forearms and my thighs. It smells putrid so I breathe through my mouth.
Crawling forward I follow the sound of Neve in front of me. The deeper I go into the pipe, the thicker the air seems to become until it feels like I’m breathing soup. I wonder whether is tunnel is ever flooded with water and fight to push the thought out of my mind. As we crawl deeper, we pass a cross junction where two additional pipes lead off to the left and right.
“Keep true,” Redd calls back, which I presume means go straight and he’s getting carried away with the mission.
I continue to move my arms forward and shuffle my knees until my legs start to cramp in the cold water.
“What can you see?” Lake’s voice echoes from behind me. “Are we on the other side of the wall yet?”
“I think that we must be, but I can’t see a way up,” Redd replies. “Oh no!”
“WHAT?” Lake shouts.
“There’s bars,” Dave’s anguished voice replies.
“Bars?” I ask, leaning my head to the left until it bumps into the metal side of the pipe, but I can’t see.
“Yeah, bars blocking the pipe; it must be to prevent large debris from getting through to the processing plant on the other side,” Dave replies.
“Or people,” I hear Neve add bitterly. “Try the pry bar.”
“I haven’t got it; I left it outside,” TJ replies.
“Oh great, so not only can’t we bend the bars but it’s been left as an indicator of where we are,” she snaps.
“Right, everyone turn around,” I say, trying to pre-emptively prevent a row breaking out.
I spin on my knees with ease but hear Lake turn with more difficulty in the narrow pipe.
“Pass the torch down Redd,” Lake yells.
“Okay,” Redd replies.
“I can’t turn around,” Dave says as Redd passes him the torch. I stifle a giggle but Neve laughs hard.
“Then you’ll just have to reverse. Now pass the torch so I can make sure that we’re going the right way,” says Lake sharply.
I see flashes of light as the torch is passed down the line and reach behind me to take the torch from Neve’s hand and pass it forward to Lake. Once he shines it in front of us, I can’t decide whether it’s better to see or not down here. I realise that the water I’m crawling through, which has now reached my stomach, is a dark sludgy brown colour and that the sides of the metal pipe are slick with green mould and fungus. I also notice another, much smaller, pipe running above our heads with a pressure gauge attached. I narrow my eyes, trying to read the dial, but Lake crawls forward too quickly and I’m thrown into darkness again.
We crawl at a steady pace until we reach the junction for a second time. “D’you think you’d be able to find the pipe out of the sewer without the torch?” Lake asks.
“Erm, yeah. Why?” Redd calls back.
“There’s no point in us all working on the bars because the pipe isn’t wide enough, so me and Zia will explore the pipe towards the compound to see if we’re able to get into any of the buildings,” he replies.
“The governor’s building?” I ask more quietly.
Lake looks back over his shoulder although his face is cast in shadow. “Yup.”
“Do it,” I hear Dave’s muffled voice call. I guess he never managed to turn around.
“Are you coming back here afterwards?” Redd asks.
“Yeah, we’ll find you. Don’t overshoot it,” Lake calls before taking a right into the new tunnel.
I follow close by, not wanting to lose him, as I hear the sound of the others fade into the distance.
“You alright?” Lake asks, slowing to hear my response.
“Yeah I’m okay. It’s not how I’d choose to spend my evening but it’s still an improvement on earlier,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “How do we know where to go?”
“Luckily for us the map not only has what’s overground printed on it, but what’s underground,” he replies, reaching into his back pocket and pulling free the map that’s concealed there. “So we need to go straight, then left, followed by the third right and second left, then we should be under the governor’s building.”
***
I can’t decide whether I’m feeling more claustrophobic or if the pipe is getting narrower. By the time we turn into the third right I’m convinced that the tunnels are getting narrower. This latest is almost half the size of the original tunnel and angles steeply upwards. I can still crawl through it but my shoulders are pushed tight against the top of the pipe and I keep catching my head on what I’ve now decided must be a gas pipe running along the top of the pipe.
“Good job Dave didn’t volunteer to come along, eh?” Lake jokes, but I don’t feel very jovial. My lungs heave as I struggle to pull the rapidly decreasing levels of oxygen out of the air. “Not much further,” he says comfortingly, and I force myself to keep moving forward and not to give in to the rising panic inside me.
As we move forward I start to notice circular hatches in the top of the pipe and count them as we pass. After the next turn Lake stops and I almost bump into him because I’ve got my eyes trained upwards.
“It must be around here somewhere” he mutters to himself.
I point to the closest hatch that we’ve just passed and back up. On closer inspection, but not surprisingly, it isn’t designed to be opened from the inside. Lake gives it a shove but it doesn’t move. After another thoughtful pause he wedges his hands on either side and tries to turn it counterclockwise to unscrew the hatch.
“If we’re on the other side, then shouldn’t it turn the other way?” I ask, watching his hands.
He doesn’t reply, but I see his muscles relax and then re-tense in the opposite direction. At first the hatch remains stubbornly in place, but then to my surprise it slips. Once the seal’s broken the hatch unscrews with ease, and when the lid has reached the end of the threads he lifts it up and dim artificial light floods the tunnel.
/> “Where are we?” I whisper, trying to look past his shoulders. “Is it the governor’s building?”
“I don’t know. It looks like a basement or generator room. I think we’re alone,” he says, trying to push his shoulders through the narrow circular hatch, but whichever way he tries he just won’t fit.
“Let me try,” I say, gently pushing him aside.
I fold my shoulders inwards and push myself up through the gap. Once my arms are through I place my hands on the smooth concrete either side of the hole and push up, pulling my hips through with some difficulty. Once inside the unfamiliar room I get to my feet and do a three-hundred and sixty degree sweep of my surroundings. The room has no windows and a low ceiling with hundreds of wires encased in a steel cage running along it.
At the far end of the room are a few seemingly disused pieces of office furniture covered with a thick layer of dust. And on the back wall is a row of approximately twenty pegs suspending what look like rubber jumpsuits. I wonder if I can use them as a disguise and walk over to inspect them further. Lifting the first one off its peg, I stretch the material apart. It looks like a hazmat suit, similar to those worn by firefighters with masks incorporated. I turn back towards Lake who’s scowling.
“I’m going to see where we are and if it’s the governor’s building,” I say, reaching to where my mother’s key hangs around my neck.
“No, absolutely not. Not without me,” Lake protests from down in the pipe.
“I’ll be quick and I’ll keep out of sight.”
“No, what if you’re caught?”
“Then I have my knife with me.”
“But you can’t fight.”
I try not to be too offended. “Then I’ll die slightly earlier than the rest of you.”
“We’re not going to die. We’re getting out.”
“You know that they’ll never shift those bars as well as I do. They’re solid stainless steel, not designed to catch debris but prevent people like us from ever seeing what’s on the other side of that wall.”
“They’re already on the other side of the wall.”
“So what are they going to do, dig like moles until they reach the surface?” I snap, getting annoyed. “I promise to keep my eyes and ears open and return here within the hour. Anything that I can find out will help us.”
He holds the map out to me which I take from his fingers quickly and walk towards the door without looking back to see his expression.
“I love you,” I hear him say quietly when I get to the door. My heart flutters in my chest but I resist the urge to turn.
“I’ll tell you when I see you again.”
Chapter Thirty-One
I press my ear to the door and listen carefully, but I can’t hear anything except the generator whirring behind me. Pushing down the latch as quietly as I can, I open door slowly. Bright light spills into the room though the crack in the door and I see a flight of polished concrete stairs leading out of the basement. Finally, I give into my urge and take one more glance behind me, towards Lake’s worried face, before closing the door and ascending the stairs on tiptoes.
I creep up the stairs with every nerve aquiver. Before reaching the top I check my location on the map but, since it doesn’t have the rooms labelled, it isn’t very informative. At the top of the stairs is another door so I repeat the same process again, but this time when I push the door open I’m assaulted by bright colours. The walls are clad in deep red and gold striped wallpaper with large gilded framed paintings suspended. The paintings depict prominent members of the government over the last forty years which answers my first question − I am in the governor’s building. The floor is varnished hardwood so I walk on the strip of red carpet down the centre of the hallway which cushions the sound of my steps.
I turn right because the map showed smaller rooms in this direction, which I hope will be offices. My heart’s thumping so loudly in my chest that I’m sure that someone will hear it and I’ll be discovered. Suddenly, I become aware of distant voices getting closer from the direction that I’ve just come so walk away more quickly to avoid being found. When I reach the end of the hallway it forks left and right at a T-junction. I look both ways and to my horror I see Patryk swinging a large torch in one hand. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights I freeze, unsure of which direction to turn. The same look of horror flashes across his face as our eyes lock, but instead of raising the alarm he gestures to the right with his head. I follow his instruction with my eyes and find a large wooden door.
Rushing towards the door, I twist the large brass knob and slip into the room, closing the door behind me. Despite my slight stature, I lean my body weight against the door, holding it shut with all my strength in case Patryk attempts to follow me. I went where he told me to go because I had no other options, not because I trust him. When nobody does follow me, I feel my body relax and turn my attention to the room that I’ve run blindly into.
Bookcases line every wall from floor to ceiling, filled with leather-bound books of all colours and sizes. Against one of the bookcases rests an old wooden ladder, shiny with use. This is the second room I’ve been in without windows; instead the room’s lit by a series of wall-mounted lamps emitting a heavy glow. My mother would have loved it here; I can almost picture us both sat either end of the green Winchester sofa in the middle of the room with a roaring fire in the now empty hearth. I’d give anything to be able to talk to her again, just once, to tell her about everything that’s happened and ask her advice.
I follow the bookcases around the room clockwise, scanning the multicoloured spines for any titles that leap out at me. ‘Revolution’, ‘People and Power’, ‘Dunbar’s number’, ‘Are we living on an event horizon?’ I cringe inwardly at the thought of someone sitting in such a warm and inviting room whilst considering how to best control the growing population within the compound. As creepy as the books are, I know that I’m not going to find anything truly enlightening just lying around. The important information’s going to be shut away. I reach to touch my mother’s key almost subconsciously.
Opening the door to the library once more, this time I find the hallway empty. Quickly and quietly I scurry deeper into the building, passing doors with brass nameplates on. I rack my brain trying to think of the governor’s names that Grant mentioned. When I pass ‘Jeremiah Selwyn’ I feel a jar of familiarity. Yes, he’s Jericho’s father, who he claimed to be reforming the healthcare system. It’s worth a look.
I reach for the key and remove the loop of string from around my neck. I don’t imagine that it’ll work but it’s worth a try. Pushing the key into the opening it fits; not only that, but when I rotate it the key moves a quarter turn to the right. I try the door knob again and to my astonishment it turns and the door swings open. Quickly I jump into the empty office and close the door behind me, then stare at the key in disbelief. I wish so badly that my mother was still alive; there are so many questions that I want to ask her. I wonder whether I’ve just miraculously chosen the door which this key fits or if my mother managed to get hold of a skeleton key to the entire building. It’s like there’s this whole other side to her, the activist, lawless side that I never got to meet.
Inside the office my gaze falls upon a large filing cabinet that stands in the corner of the room. I try one of the drawers but it’s locked, then I attempt to insert my mother’s key again just in case, but it doesn’t even fit in the hole. Feeling frustrated, I look though the stacks of papers on top of the filing cabinet which have probably not been filed away yet. There are a couple of cardboard folders with names written on the front but one of them makes my breath catch in my throat. ‘Marshall Davis.’
I hold my breath as I open it. I guess they got his body after all. Inside is a photo of him looking pale, with his eyes closed and a large Y-shaped incision on his chest that’s been crudely sutured back together. Next to the photo I read details about him: birth date, death date, who is parents were, that he had no offspring. Th
ere are also more sinister notes about his life written like an anthropologist studying a native tribe. ‘Does not integrate into mainstream society, tends to stick with other outsiders. Overeats, which may be a coping mechanism for stress. Has an intimate relationship with a female, but she’s not yet borne his children. Questions could be raised about his reproductive abilities.’ Or the fact that none of us want to bring new life into this hellhole, I think aloud.
A clatter outside the room makes me spin around in time to see the door fly open. In the doorway stands Jeremiah Selwyn, backed up by two men, one of which has Neve in a head lock under his arm.
“There you are my dear. I’ve been looking for you,” he says in a silky voice like a snake, but his calm veneer is even thinner than Jericho’s charm and, despite his wide smile, his eyes are lit only by the anger that smoulders behind them.
I don’t know who I’m more surprised to see, Selwyn or Neve. I stare at her, wishing that we could communicate telepathically because I have so many questions that need answering. Why is she here? Where’s Lake? What happened to the others? She looks at me with sad, apologetic eyes and I realise that I know why she’s here. She’s here because Lake couldn’t just wait for me; he went back to the others and told Neve because she’s small enough to fit through the hatch and tough enough to be up for anything.
“Oh, she didn’t give you away,” Selwyn says in a smooth fluid voice. “I knew you were in here when we found your little friend snooping around outside. In fact it was a surprise when we found her because I was looking for you.”
No! I scream inside my head. They’ve got Lake.
“Get her,” Selwyn says, and one of the men behind him steps further into the room.
I reach for the knife in my belt and stretch it out in front of me in my shaking hand.
“Now don’t be stupid,” Selwyn spits in a patronising voice. “Drop the knife or I’ll twist her head off like a bottle of cheap champagne,” he says, grabbing a fist full of Neve’s hair and pulling her head upwards.
Her expression is neutral, like she’s carved out of granite, but her eyes blaze fiercely. I cast my gaze towards the window. If I can’t fight then perhaps I can run, but my heart sinks when I see that the windows are barred shut. I let the knife fall from my hand and hear a soft thud as it lands on the red carpet. The man walks over and roughly grabs me first by my left arm and then my right. He holds my arms behind my back as we follow the others out of the room.