Faces shone in the beam from Elsa’s torch. A dozen miners covered in pale dust. These Smokers were so familiar with the path, they no longer needed a light. They formed a line along the cave wall, one hand connected with the stone. Their backs were bent beneath great chunks of limestone. They recoiled at the sudden shock of light and shielded their eyes.

Elsa didn’t wait for them to recover. She jumped from the elevator platform and sprinted along the confused line of people down the passageway. Voices shouted at her. She saw the disused shaft, its entrance closed over with sheet metal, a chalk wing decorating the top corner. Elsa pulled at the panel. The bottom came away.

Fingers grabbed at her coat and pack. She beat them off and scrambled through. The panel snapped shut. No one followed her into the abandoned shaft.

Elsa’s torchlight hit the fine-grained stone. She found the first crack, again marked by a wing, and slipped inside. Her backpack caught in the narrow spaces. She pushed on, following the map in her mind, all the time fearing she’d got it wrong.

The tunnel shrunk until she had to crawl. The air around her filled with a metallic, smoky scent that stung her eyes and itched her throat. She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve and blinked against the polluted air.

The hammering grew louder. The temperature jumped and she loosened her jacket. Holes in the stone flooded the passage with orange light. Elsa peered through one into a smelting chamber. Her exposed skin tingled from the intense heat rising from the room. Smokers, their bare arms covered in a thick, muddy paste to their shoulders, surrounded towering furnaces.

At the next gap, Elsa saw workers break apart their furnaces with long poles to extract the bloom within. They transported the mass of iron and slag to thick metal tables for hammering. Steam spewed from cooling pools.

Elsa wiped her forehead with her sleeve and continued her arduous crawl forward. The air cleared and the tunnel cooled. Eventually, the pattern of hammers faded, leaving only her heartbeat to pound thick in her ears.

The route turned into a series of tight squeezes. Elsa shoved through these twisting gaps, sliding on her belly, sometimes tugging her bag behind her, sometimes pushing it before her. Time and time again she fought a bone-deep terror that turned her body rigid and told her she could not move. Each time, she closed her eyes and reminded herself of all she had to lose if she failed.

Elsa continued. Hours passed. Or was it days? She scrambled out of pits, rappelled down rock faces and crawled on her hands and knees through the muddy warren of intersecting tunnels. She pushed through a particularly terrifying v-shaped passageway, feeling as if the weight of the underground had landed on her chest, and collapsed in a heap on the other side.

She forced herself to switch off her head torch to save battery power while she rested. Left to the choking darkness, Elsa held the pocket watch in her trembling hands and gave in to her tears.

After a while, she became aware of a faint glow around her. Elsa flattened herself against the floor. When no patrol attacked and no dogs barked, she crept forward. Her eyes adjusted further to the light. Elsa realised she’d entered a large underground chamber. Lime crystals formed intricate chandeliers along a vaulted ceiling. Elsa watched the play of light against the stone and felt an immense sense of relief at reaching this checkpoint.

Elsa sought the source of the light and found a small fire at the centre of the cavern. An old man sat enfolded in a blanket. Next to him was a long, wrapped bundle and an old wheelbarrow stacked high with possessions.

Drawn like an insect to the bright flames, Elsa headed down towards the traveller. Stones bounced as she descended, and the dozing man jumped to attention. Elsa called out and he raised an old, rusty shotgun.

“Who goes there?”

She came closer, hands in the air. “I mean no harm.”

“Come into the light where I can see you!”

Elsa did as he commanded and recognised in an instant the deep raw mark of ‘P’ on his hand. The white patchy hair and grizzled face further confirmed her hunch. This was the man from the abandoned port.

“Stop there.”

“I’m a traveller,” Elsa said. “I hoped to share your fire for a few minutes.”

He gazed over his shoulders “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“This is a trick.” He scrutinised the darkness beyond the campfire. “A young thing like you all by yourself? You could be working for the guards.”

“I swear on the life of all those I hold dear, I am alone.” She pulled back her sleeve and showed him her tattoo. “And I’m no friend of the guards.”

“You’re Bad Seed.”

“Yes. I’m just like you. I’m seeking the surface and know of another way to reach it. If you let me stay awhile, I’ll share the route with you.”

The man looked back to the bundle near the fire, the shape of a woman now clear.

“I’ll be hearing about this way before I make my decision. And I’ll not say yes until I’ve spoken with my wife. You may sit by the fire in the meantime, but don’t be expecting any of our food. We’ve got to make what we’ve got last.”

“Thank you.” Elsa removed her backpack and sat on the opposite side of the fire to the couple.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Elsa Jefferson.”

“Jefferson, you say. Your mum’s Helena. You’re the Junker’s assistant?”

“Yes.”

The man whistled. “Nice gig. Many times, I’ve felt a touch of the green-eyed monster when I saw your stall. Not your fault really, just luck. Some people get dealt better cards than others.” He held out his good hand. “My name’s Walt.”

He patted the bundle next to him.

“This sleeping beauty is my wife, Estelle. Careful not to wake her, she doesn’t sleep well. We’ve been wandering these caves for days, lost. It’s been tough.”

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Tough was an understatement. Elsa imagined it must have been terrifying.

“At first, we moved around in the dark, trying to avoid the guards, but we haven’t heard so much as a peep from them this entire time. When we found this cavern I thought, screw it, it was time for a morale boosting fire and a hot meal. Nothing puts me in greater spirits than bright light and a warm belly.”

“It was a good thing you lit the fire,” Elsa said. “I may not have found you otherwise.”

She gestured to the pile of belongings stacked in the wheelbarrow. “You’re leaving the Darkzone?”

Walt nodded. “We spent years talking about sneaking out.”

He showed Elsa his ugly wound on the back of his hand.

“The guards took the choice out of it really when they gave me this. No job, no hope. We decided we might as well take our chances on the surface. Maybe we’ll get lucky and make a good go of it.”

Walt rose to the wheelbarrow and pulled out a small kenafi log.

“To be honest,” he said as he added it to the fire. “I don’t know why we stayed underground so long. Deep in my heart I knew we’d never get back to the city. Stubbornness held me there, and pride. I’ve always had a healthy dose of pride.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” Walt said. “Maybe we’ll head coastal, back to one of the cities, and see what’s left. There were rumours, before we came here of another safe haven from the Chaos set in one of the old metropolises. Or maybe we’ll head deeper into the valley, look for an abandoned farmhouse, and try to start a new life all on our own.”

“I wish you luck.”

Walt studied her. “You’re far too young to be Bad Seed. You were one of those Chosen kids, right?”

Elsa shifted. “Yes.”

He lifted the lid on a boiling pot to check the contents.

“We gave up our only child to the Farm, a little boy called Samuel.”

He placed a hand on his wife’s sleeping form.

“It’s our biggest regret—our only regret, really. We should have been the ones to raise him, not some stranger, even if they are building the foundations of paradise. It’s hard not knowing how he’s doing or if he’s happy.”

“You’re going to the surface,” Elsa said. “Why don’t you go looking for him?”

“We thought about it, but eight years have passed. He may have forgotten us. What if we’re unsettling things for him? Or, what if he hates us for giving him up?” He glanced back at his hand. “It’s too late now. But I wish I’d been brave enough to stand up to the council back then. If I could go back in time, I’d tell them to shove their Farm, just like your mother did. It’s not as if it saved us any heartache, we still ended up tattooed and tossed out.”

“Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Walt snorted and lifted the lid again to stir the watery soup within. “The official charge was stealing from the stores, but I know the real reason. I was a fool. I drew attention to myself. I was a member of the Commerce Guild, but low down in the ranks. I signed a petition with several other minor guild merchants asking for democratic elections to the council. At the time I thought, why should the Keeper choose the head of each guild? Retaliation was swift. Every signatory was labelled Bad Seed. Estelle could have stayed behind, but she didn’t want to leave me. Love can make you weak like that.”

Walt spooned out three bowls.

“You haven’t said why you’re heading up to the surface.” He handed her one of the bowls and Elsa accepted it with a grateful nod.

“I’m searching for my uncle.”

“The Junker?”

Elsa nodded.

“Good man,” Walt said. “He was always kind to us.”

Walt woke his wife. “Estelle, love, come eat something.”

The woman sat up, eyes groggy, and startled when she saw Elsa. Walt explained her presence and the older woman gave her a weak wave. She was pale and breathed with the raspy wheeze of someone who had spent many long years amongst plantation dust and all-consuming darkness.

Walt, solicitous of his wife, encouraged her to eat and when she shivered, gave her his blanket. He told her fantastic lies of how their life would be on the surface. How she’d be able to sit in the sun and let the clean air heal her lungs. His wife smiled in agreement, but when her liquid eyes met Elsa’s, the truth was plain. Estelle would not live long on the surface. The women rested her grey head on her husband’s shoulder and moments later fell back asleep.

***

A wobbly wheelbarrow and a sick woman slowed Elsa’s journey to the base of the mountain. A section that should have taken one day stretched to two. Elsa’s ever-present worry for her uncle grew, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon the couple. On the second day, when they reached a large cavern holding the underground river, she almost cried with relief.

“How far?” Walt asked.

Elsa helped him manoeuvrer the wheelbarrow around a bulging formation of flowstone.

“We’re close, maybe an hour at this speed.”

Walt rubbed his hand through his thin hair. “I don’t think Estelle can go any further. I didn’t think the descent would be so difficult. She’s exhausted.”

His wife leant against a thick, stone column, her face leeched of colour and her hands shaking.

“We’re done with the worst part,” Elsa encouraged. “We only have to follow the river to the exit.”

Walt held up his lantern to survey the water. “It looks about waist deep. If the path beside it runs out…” He leant closer. “I don’t think Estelle can swim.”

“Let’s not worry about that now. We’ll rest and let her get her wind back.”

Walt patted her on the back. “Thank you.”

They set up camp in a flat, dry space framed by ornate, towering stalagmites.

Walt reached for more of his precious fuel reserves, but Elsa stopped him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The scent of the smoke will travel along the river. The guards might have a camp somewhere up stream.”

Walt sighed and replaced the log. “Just the lantern, then. I’ll take first watch. I’ll not sleep a wink until we’re safely away from this place.” He removed the shotgun from his bundle of belongings and rested it across his legs.

“How did you find a gun?” Elsa asked as she rolled out her pallet.

“With great difficulty and expense. These things are rarer than a Black Guardsman’s smile.”

Elsa laughed at the joke.

“I asked around,” Walt continued, “and found a Smoker looking to upgrade his housing situation. He got our bolthole in the Chimney and everything in it—save the wheelbarrow load—for the gun, blankets and extra firelogs.”

Walt flushed. “I know Bad Seeds aren’t supposed to have weapons and I don’t even know how to shoot the darn thing, but I feel better having something in my hands. A lucky talisman of sorts.”

Elsa reached for her pocket watch. “I understand the power of charms.”

Walt patted the handle. “Sometimes, it feels like it’s the only protection we have.”

***

Rats came out of the darkness, a squeaking swarm numbering in the thousands. The lantern light drew them in. They scurried on tiny, splayed feet, beady eyes glinting red. The furry black wave burst over the camp and Elsa drowned in the mess of warm, scampering bodies. Suddenly, Noak appeared beside her and pulled her from the scourge.

“Get to the surface now!” Noak placed a firm hand on her back and pushed her out of the nightmare.

Elsa sat upright, ready to slap the clinging vermin from her arms and legs only to find there was nothing on her, but a tangled blanket.

“Bad dream?” Walt asked.

She shivered, still feeling the tiny scrambling feet on her skin. The dream felt like a warning. “We need to leave. Do you think Estelle can manage?”

Walt regarded his wife. “Let’s pack up and wake her at the last moment.”

Elsa shrugged back into her coat and packed all her belongings as quickly as she could. Walt stacked his possessions back into the wheelbarrow with slow, unhurried motions. The dream continued to ring in Elsa’s head, so she fought the urge to hurry him.

“I’ll go fill my water bottle.”

Elsa took the canister to the stream. As the cool water trickled over the rim, she turned back to the glowing lantern. Walt crouched over his wife, giving her a few more seconds of precious sleep. He was so engaged in this task that he didn’t see the guard bleed out from the shadows of the stalagmite pillars.

The guard came up behind the old man and sliced his throat. Walt slumped sideways and fell to the ground in an undignified heap, all without losing his tender smile.