The young man’s shoulders were tense, releasing a spasm of muscle as my hand gripped him. He looked back. His narrow face was accentuated by high-pointed cheeks backlit against the tunnel lights.
“Easy there,” I said in a reassuring tone. I kept a soft smile. He was on edge. Standing guard at the far end of our domicile, I couldn’t blame him.
“Sorry, I…” he started, his voice trailing off into a high squeal.
“No need to be sorry. You’re doing a good job.” The young man nodded. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, yet there he stood, guarding the ones he loved most. “Have you seen anything?”
“No. I thought I might have heard some talking, but didn’t know which direction it was coming from.”
My eyes strained as I looked down the shaft. That section, unlike most, didn’t twist or turn. Rather, it followed a slow upward gradient, the floor eventually climbing into the roof. I looked back. Perched behind us were five others strapped with sacks and bags ready to be filled. I nodded forward, and with a pat on the young guard’s back, I set off in a crouched run.
We had scoured the lower reaches of the tunnel system, cleaning out every nook and cranny the PLM used to store supplies. The further we went, the fewer supplies we found until we had exhausted the furthest reaches of the network. The only part of the system left was the upper holds. Closer to the surface, they invited all manner of revolutionary and criminal activity alike. Still, our numbers grew, and so did the need for more food and water.
My calves burned as we ascended. The shaft walls echoed with muffled steps, my companion’s burlap-wrapped feet softly crunching against the gravel floor. Every ten or so steps, I halted the party, stopping to listen for others. When the shaft returned to silence, I waived the group on, continuing our gradual climb. The ramp opened into a laddered room, but I knew the house was empty. I had searched it about a week prior, only finding oblong metal canisters neatly oriented alongside oxygen tanks. What are they planning? I knew we were on borrowed time. Still, there were too many sick and starving to move. Constantine wouldn’t order so many houses to be rigged without intending a simultaneous detonation. I was putting off the inevitable, and I knew it. Eventually, I would have to seek him out for the sake of the others.
Another ladder appeared. The walls around it were closer. I slowed, gliding with a hunched back into the cramped space. I pointed up, indicating we would search the house. I was the first one up. The house was only a single room, resembling a studio apartment with all the amenities. Lining the far wall, were three rows of boxes neatly stacked atop each other. A flash of endorphins rushed my brain, propelling me up. I ran over, ripping the box lids open. The interior was lined with plastic, holding a paste-like substance that tacked to my finger when I touched it. The goop clinging to my hand reeked of motor oil, returning memories of my father lying beneath the family car on any Sunday afternoon. I moved to the next box and found the same contents. Another memory flickered: one of the breaching drills during summer training sessions at the academy. The smell of oil would slick the humid air as we lined the hinges of fake doors for blasting. Plastic explosives? How did they get their hands on this?
“Hey, wait,” I yelled, stopping the others from prying the boxes open. “It’s not food.”
“What is it?” one asked, having opened a lid.
“Explosives, I think.”
“Shit.”
The young man leaned into the ear of the person next to him, whispering. He nodded, looking up at me before saying, “We haven’t found food in three days. How can we be sure theres any left?”
He had a point. Supplies were running low. Whatever Constantine was preparing for didn’t involve stocked safe houses. “Look, I get it. But I’m hoping the houses connected to tunnels closer to the surface will still have supplies,” I replied, raising my palms.
“How can you be sure?”
“I can’t.” The group murmured. I was losing them. I was losing more people by the day. While the inhabitants of our tunnels shrank, Constantine’s numbers grew. I figured he had infiltrated us - sent people to convince the most desperate among us to join him. I couldn’t blame them, or him for that matter.
“How many more houses are left to check in this tunnel?”
“One way to find out,” I replied with a false smile.
The next house produced little more than a meal bar and a water canister. The shaft had collapsed not much further, blocking our path. Still, through the fallen rubble, muffled voices could be heard. The shaft was broken on purpose. The supports didn’t cave in so much as they were blasted, as evident by twisted pylons that once held the roof. Our defeated group made the long descent home, greeted by the eager young guard. His bright eyes faded when he saw the empty bags still strewn across our shoulders.
“No luck?” he asked.
“Afraid not. I also don’t think you need to guard this section of tunnel anymore.”
“No?”
“No. The shaft collapsed. No one is getting through there,” I replied, placing my hand on the same shoulder I patted before setting off. Only this time, he didn’t flinch but sagged.
Even with dwindling numbers, the narrow, poorly lit corridors were a nightmare to navigate - filled with jostling bodies fighting for room. I tapped a few and told them there were two empty houses further down. They eagerly jumped to their feet and scrambled off. Others followed, eyeing me as they passed.
Three older men stood guard with makeshift clubs at the base of my house’s ladder. They parted, allowing me up while the rest of my search party continued on. “Hey,” I called out to them. Only two stopped and took notice. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“The end.”
“The old subway tunnels?”
I nodded, but they shook their heads.
By then, my house was more of a storage unit, filled with meal bar boxes and water canisters. We controlled the food supply tightly, ensuring everyone received their fair share. Ariel was taking count as Julien stuffed a new box with bars when I climbed out of the hole.
“Again?”
“What? Oh, the food. Yeah, the houses were empty.” Except for explosives.
“Jack, we need –”
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
She looked at me. Her features had softened. Gone were the hollow eyes set above gaunt cheeks. She looks more and more like Claire every day. There was worry in her eyes - anguish. People were growing more desperate. Starvation had crippled the city, and there wasn’t an end in sight. Rumors of food shipments being raided ran rampant. Only it wasn’t Constantine, or so the rumors went.
“How much longer do we have?” I asked after a prolonged silence.
“Two weeks, maybe. Depends on how many the PLM takes.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose, a headache forming at the base of my skull.
“Jack, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can’t just – “
“I know,” I said, cutting her off. I raised my hands, trying to shut the conversation down before a full migraine set in. “I’ll think of something.” Why me, though? Why can’t anyone else here pitch in? Why can’t they go out and bring back food? Why do I have to hold everyone’s damn hand all the time?
Nestling down on a padded sheet, I clasped my hands on my stomach and stared at the ceiling until I drifted off.
****
Smoke filled the gaps between wood slats and trusses. The bar was old, and the building wore a weathered patina to accent its gruff patrons. With a cigarette pressed between her lips, she sat across from me, never shifting her eyes even as she took a drag. Makeup covered up a short life spent in bars like this, trying to claw back the beauty lost to her vices. Dark clumps collected around her eyes—eyes that stole long glances as I looked away in gleeful shame.
The chair beside me opened, vacant of the drunken local now fumbling around for his keys. I figured I should follow suit, but before I stood, a shimmering mop of blond hair and cigarette smoke took up next to me. She smiled. Red lipstick outlined a veneer of white, her tongue gently pressing against the back of a canine. Sickly butterflies rose in my stomach.
The room was dark when I woke. Thin wisps of moonlight etched across the dwindling boxes stacked against the wall. Just a week ago, they would’ve risen halfway to the ceiling. Now, they stood only a few feet high - a constant reminder of impending hunger. I sat up. On the other side, Ariel and Julien were fast asleep, cradling one another for warmth. The seasons passed almost unnoticed here. There were no trees, or any vegetation for that matter, to signal the start of autumn. The temperature rapidly shifted, cycling between sweltering hot and bitter cold.
I contemplated waking Ariel to tell her I was heading out so she wouldn’t worry, but I decided against it. As quietly as possible, I dropped down the hole, finding the tunnel dimly lit. Lining its walls on both sides, women and children slept, leaving a narrow path broken by the occasional arm or leg to be stepped over. Only a quarter of the bulbs running the length of the roof were lit. The others were half-turned to give the inhabitants some semblance of normalcy in those light-deprived tunnels.
Stepping carefully, I navigated the corridor until I reached a junction where two young men stood guard. I kneeled, recognizing one of them from the day before. His childish features sharpened as he greeted me. “Nothing to report here.”
“Good,” I said. “No movement?”
“Nothing. It’s been quiet all night.”
I nodded. “Good, maybe they pushed back to the surface.”
“Doubt it,” the other guard mumbled.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Would you?” he replied. It was a good point. That junction in the tunnel led to the subway network. Long since being abandoned, most service lines had collapsed or flooded. Either way, the once expansive system was a shell of its former self. Still, it provided a safe refuge for those wanting to stay out of the purview of the capital.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Maybe, yeah - if I didn’t have a reason to be in them anymore.”
“And what reason would that be? Those tunnels have been crawling with them since before we were born.”
“Maybe their food ran out like the rest of us.”
“Well, if that were the case, then you wouldn’t have a reason to go up there.”
“The PLM has been heavily recruiting there, so there’s still people.”
“Is that so? Where’d you hear that?” I asked.
“Just rumors from…” he trailed off, and I knew why. The gangs calling the subway tunnels home weren’t the only place the PLM was recruiting.
“Well, maybe if enough of them left, the rest pushed further up,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “Do you think you can find a few people to go with us?”
“Us?” the boy’s face lit up. I replied with a nod, further brightening his eyes. He drew a wide grin, replying, “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me.” The guard about faced and scampered down the shaft, tracing the wall with one hand as he dodged sleeping bodies.
“I’m not going up there,” the remaining guard said matter of factly.
“No?”
“No. It’s fucking suicide.” I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, he continued. “I’ve been up there. I wasn’t one of them, but I’ve seen what they do. If you were smart, you’d collapse this part of the shaft. Boobytrap the remaining stretch with charges.”
“Afraid we don’t have that luxury… What’s up there?”
He looked away, drawing his gaze from the tunnel to something too far in the distance to see.
“Come on. It can’t be that bad.”
He bit his lip, dropping his eyes to the dirt before replying. “The black markets, for one. If you aren’t there to buy a slave… well, you’ll become one. Then there’s the gambling rings, where they bet more than just meal bars. The fighting pits.” He trailed off, his words floating down the tunnel as his eyes unfocused, staring blankly through the wall. Ah, there it is—poor kid.
“And food? From what we’ve heard, shipments are being raided as they come into the city.”
“Yeah, probably. Doesn’t matter, though.”
“Why’s that? You don’t think they’ll trade?”
Never making eye contact, he replied, “You have nothing to trade… nothing but your own lives and trust me, they don’t have a use for you. Plenty of young men they lure into their employ or the pits. The women and children, though, they have value.”
“We would never–”
“What then? What do you have they could possibly want?”
“I don’t know. But I have to try.”
“You go up there, and they learn about this place, we’re all fucked. The women, the children, they’ll be chained up in some dugout… if you go up there, you better have something they damn well want, or a lot of firepower.”
Before I could answer, the low thud of footsteps echoed up the hall as the young guard returned with three others, each more eager than the next. They were all so young. Then again, young men putting their lives in danger at the whims of the old wasn’t a new concept but one as old as the species itself.
“Change of plan,” I said, looking them over. The young guard’s brow raised in anticipation, hanging on every word. “We’re going back to the last tunnel. The ceiling caved in a little further from where we met, but we can clear the rubble out of the way.”
“What’s on the other side?” one of them asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out. With any luck, more safehouses.”
“And if we don’t find any?”
“Or what if we can’t clear the tunnel?” another asked.
“We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it,” I replied, drawing a collective blank stare. “We’ll figure that out if we don’t find any safe houses… or can’t get through, obviously.”
I slipped past two of the newcomers and grabbed the young guard by the arm, asking his name.
“Titus,” he replied.
“Titus.” I nodded, resting my palm on his back as we walked down the tunnel. “I going to need some help.”
“Of course, anything,” Titus said.
“We’ll need more help if we want to clear the tunnel. There’s no telling how far the debris extends. Can I count on you to round up more bodies?”
“You can count on it.”
“Good. I’m also going to need help keeping morale up. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
I raised my hand and squeezed his shoulder, pulling him in close. “Good man. The food situation might get worse before it gets better, so it’s up to us to make sure we all pull together. And when we make it through this, it’ll be because of people like you.” I said the words, and Titus ate them up. They sounded so convincing coming out of my mouth that I let belief slip into my thoughts for a second, but I knew it was a hollow sentiment built on desperation, not reality. I took one last look at the lone man now guarding the entrance to the upper levels, contemplating what he said. I wasn’t convinced there wouldn’t be a need to go up, but he managed to deter me for a little longer - to exhaust all possible options.
On our way to the collapsed section of the tunnel, I tapped another to help stand guard, not wanting a single person protecting our most vulnerable flank. A lone woman, half asleep, stood just before the incline. I relieved her, letting her stammer back and grab some rest before the day started. The debris field looked worse than it had the day before; granted, I had only gotten a brief look. Desk-sized boulders were stacked to the roof, pushing out smaller rocks that cascaded down its face and quickly disintegrated into pebbles.
“How are we going to clear that?” one of the group asked.
I wondered the same, but needed to keep appearances. “Very slowly if you just stand there and stare at it.”
I ushered them on, forming a line from the top to hand down the manageable stones before breaking apart the larger ones. Soon, more people filled the corridor behind us, handing up makeshift hand tools. The crash of metal on rock punctured the air, causing everyone to wince with each strike. The line formed as far back as the tunnel would allow me to see - a centipede of helpers passing broken stones from front to back. The work went on for hours. Those hammering the rock swapped with fresh hands, taking their place at the back of the line until their turn was called again. The air grew damp and heavy, slick with sweat as the work dragged on.
I ran the length of the tunnel, finding the weakest links in the chain and sending them up to the two safehouses above us to grab air and needed rest. Every time I escorted another group top side, I noted the position of the sun’s rays as they dripped down the walls, descending into darkness before the shaft finally opened up.
“Jack,” a familiar voice called as I dropped down the last two rungs of the ladder. I turned to find Ariel, face smothered in dust clinging to sweat.
“Ariel, how long have you–”
“Most of the day. When I heard everyone was pitching in, I couldn’t just sit around.”
A flash of movement caught my eye, drawing my attention down the tunnel. “It’s open?”
“Sure is. The last rock finally gave. We had to bring in beams to support the roof, which took a while.” Drawn to the bright opening in the rock, I started toward it. “Hey.”
“Sorry, I need to make sure there isn’t a rush of people trying to make it to the other side.”
I heard her reply, “Do what you have to do,” as I ran up a low incline of rubble to the opening. The other side was brighter, emanating a near-blinding white glow, leaving black pock marks behind my lids as my eyes adjusted. Five rows of industrial lights arced around the vaulted ceiling, projecting down into the expansive space, able to easily fit five men abreast comfortably. What is this? Why did they make it so wide?
A hot breath on my shoulder sent a shiver down my spine. I turned and found Titus on his toes, trying to lift his chin over my shoulder. I flicked my head, and he stepped back, sliding on loose gravel as he had done.
“What’s in there?” Titus asked.
Turning back, I stared into the tunnel. The smooth-cut walls extended as far as I could see, converging at a single point of blurry light. It looked machine-cut, lacking the jagged, imprecise nature of the shafts on the other side of the cave-in.
“Titus, grab three others,” I instructed. He didn’t miss a beat. As soon as I finished, he was halfway down the rubble pile, rounding up a search party. Ariel pushed her way to the front and started to climb. I put my hand out, gesturing for her to stop, but she continued, shaking me off.
“Ariel, I don’t think–”
“I’m not going with you, don’t worry. I just want to see why I lugged heavy rocks all day.” She nudged me aside, positioning herself directly in front of the hole. “What is this?”
“A tunnel,” I replied, drawing a side eye under her furrowed brow. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Could’ve just said that.”
Titus returned with the original digging crew. They looked worse for wear, covered in sweat, scratches, and dust, but still carried the same eagerness as when we started.
“Wish me luck,” I said to Ariel. She stepped aside. I kicked one leg through and hunched down to slide across the opening. The others followed, having an easier time fitting through due to their stature. I always forget how much smaller they are. The ceiling arced in a near-perfect semicircle, standing ten feet high at its apex, dwarfing the others as they walked ahead.
“Don’t get too far ahead,” I called after them, falling behind as I surveyed the level surfaces. “These had to be cut by some kind of machine… but who has–” I started to mumble, broken off by a shout from the group. “What is it?” I asked. One of the young men took off at a sprint. “Hey, stop,” I yelled as I started to run after him. The others followed, but they struggled to keep up as I ran him down.
“There’s a cutout,” he yelled, pointing down the shaft. By the time I caught him, we were nearly at the break in the wall where a ladder dropped from the ceiling.
“You can’t run off like that,” I said, yanking the kid’s shirt back.
He put his hands up, acknowledging he got ahead of himself. I looked up the well, unable to see where the ladder ended.
“You guys stay put while I check it out,” I said.
“But–”
“Stay put.” Titus shook his head and stood watch while I climbed up.
A heavy sheet of metal covered the circular cutout in the concrete above. I pushed up, sliding it to the side, filling the shaft with light. Halfway out of the hole, I caught a glimpse of three men standing behind me. Before I could drop back down, a pair of hands grabbed the back of my shirt, yanking me to the surface. Catching my fall with my left hand, I slid across the concrete on one knee, quickly rising to face them. Heart pounding, I crouched, expecting to be set upon, readying myself to wrestle them to the ground.
“Jack?” a muffled but familiar voice asked. Adrenaline spiked through my veins, blotting out my hearing. Still, I recognized James’s deep, calm voice over the drumbeat on my throbbing temples. “Jack, what are you doing here?” he asked again, pulling my gaze up to meet him. He was smiling. Gone was the hardened scowl he’d worn since the day we met.
“I…” I started but wasn’t sure if I was actually speaking. Even my own words were drowned out.
“God, we thought you were dead,” James said, beelining over, wrapping me in his ape-like arms.
“No,” I said with a slight chuckle. I was happy to see him, especially now that I wasn’t fighting for my life but embracing a friend.
“Where’ve you been? We looked for you until the massacre. Constantine was convinced you were among the dead. I didn’t think so. I figured you would’ve made it out.”
“Barely. Almost didn’t make it out.”
“Then someone started stealing all our food - raiding the houses for supplies.”
“Yeah, I’ve been bouncing around the safehouses,” I said, nodding as Titus cautiously emerged from the hole. I waved him up. “I picked up a few stragglers too.”
James turned to eye Titus as he stood on level ground. “More than a few from what we’ve heard.” He turned back toward me, elbowing my side, “So, you’re the new leader of the damned.”
I laughed. Sincerely laughed. “Leader might be a bit of a stretch.”
“You there. Who’s your leader?” James asked, pointing his meaty finger at Titus, who raised his toward me in reply. “See? Leader of the damned.”
“Speaking of which, we actually came up here–”
“Yeah, how did you get through the blast debris? I was assured the tunnel was impassible.”
“Lots of hands breaking and hauling stones.”
“We couldn’t get you to help with a damn thing willingly. And now look at you.”
“What is that down there? How did you dig a tunnel like that?” I asked.
“We didn’t. That tunnel had been there long before we found it.”
“Where does it go?”
“Come back and you’ll get to know.”
I shook my head. “I can’t… I can’t leave these people. They need our help.”
“You can’t help them, Jack. As much as you want to, you just can’t.”
I knew he was probably right, but I had to try. “They need food. Water. Any kind of supplies you could spare.”
“Jack–”
“James, please.”
He looked at the other two, standing silently behind him. I didn’t recognize them. They must be recent additions. “I’ll spare what we have left here. But you should come back with us. Constantine… when he learns you’re alive, he’ll want you to come back.”
“I have to help them. If I left, they would starve, or worse.”
James nodded.
“Can you keep this between us?” I asked.
“I can’t do that even if I wanted to. I have to tell him. But I can’t force you to do anything. You need to get out of those tunnels, though. It’s not safe. Soon, there will be nothing left.”
Images of oblong metal jars flashed in my head.
“Those canisters - you rigged the safe houses to blow?”
“Yeah,” James replied, pursing his lips.
“Why?”
“All a part of the plan. The canisters. The tunnel. I can’t tell you more, but you have to get those people clear of this area, Jack.”
“How much time do we have?”
“Not sure. Could be a week. Could be a month. I just don’t know.”
“I can’t move them to the surface.”
“No, I wouldn’t recommend that either. The capital is rounding up the unpermitted since,” he said, looking at the ground. “Since we started recruiting from them.”
“What about the upper network?”
“The old subway lines?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed. His chest heaved as he let out a heavy breath. “I wouldn’t venture into that hell. Not unless you didn’t have a choice.”
“Doesn’t sound like I have a choice.”
“Move them to the tower,” he said after a moment of contemplation.
“The tower? The one we were at–”
“Yeah, that one. You remember how to get there?”
“No. Besides, aren’t you all there?”
“Not anymore. I’ll get you directions. There’s no food, but it’s safe.”
“Thanks,” I replied, reaching out a hand to shake his.
“Just be careful getting there. The capital guards are everywhere.”
“I will.”
James turned away, directing the two others to hand over the leftover meal bars stashed in the corner. “This won’t last you very long. Not with all those mouths to feed.”
“No. We’re going to have to find more. I was hoping there would be more safe houses along this tunnel.”
“This is the only one that I’m aware of.”
“The subway lines then,” I said in a low tone.
“If you go up there, go during mid day. Hit them hard and fast.”
I nodded, retaking his hand. He squeezed, pulling me in tight. “Hard and fast. Get in and get out. Don’t hesitate to kill them… because they sure as hell won’t.”