Glitch

gasped.
    We were in a huge cathedral- like space, complete with
    massive concrete supporting arches leading up to the ceil-
    ing. But it was the sludgy water I’d landed in that concerned
    me more. I could feel it soaking through my socks. Huge
    rats scurried away from the light and I shrieked and jumped
    back up on the fi rst rung of the ladder.
    “I was going to warn you but I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
    I glared at him in the dim light.
    “You seem to be doing that a lot!” I whispered. “Next
    time, just warn me!”
    He held up his hands. “Okay, okay, will do. It’s a little
    gnangy down here and I’m not denyin’ that there’s a . . . bit
    of a rodent population. But it’s not dangerous.”
    He handed me some thick rubber knee- high boots. “Here,
    put these on. We keep ’em stored here along with fl ashlights.”
    I shook my foot to try to get the excess water out of my
    shoe, slipped one leg into the boot, then the other. Adrien
    held out a hand and I dared to step back into the ankle- high
    water. It was black and oily, with a thick scum covering the
    surface. And it smelled horrible, like rotten eggs and rancid
    butter mixed together.
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    “Here’s a fl ashlight.” He handed me a heavy black fl ash-
    light. I wiped my hands on my pants and took it. The
    chamber we were in was huge and rectangular, with arched
    concrete struts that led to the ceiling, which was so high
    I could only barely make it out. As we made our way down
    the chamber, I realized that what had looked like black cir-
    cles on the wall were actually other tunnels leading out.
    “What is this place?” I asked softly. “Are you sure it’s safe?
    No cameras?”
    “Nope, not down here. This is an old combined sewage
    and storm- drain tunnel. It used to be called the Deep Tun-
    nel. It goes for hundreds of miles all throughout the city.”
    “Then how have I not heard of it? I mean, I live under-
    ground.”
    He nodded. “Downtown, most of these old tunnels were
    demolished or rebuilt as part of the infrastructure of the
    underground city. These ones were too prone to fl ooding,
    so they left them alone.”
    He motioned me forward and I followed him, keeping my
    fl ashlight beam in front of my feet so I’d know where I was
    stepping.
    I put one arm over my nose at the smell. “I think I might
    vomit.”
    “Sorry,” Adrien said. “Just try not to think about it. It’ll
    get better once we get out of the central chamber.”
    I nodded and followed him, trying to move my feet
    through the water smoothly rather than taking big splashing
    steps. As we came to the end of the chamber, I peered down
    the circular entrances that opened in the walls like giant
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    Heather Anastasiu
    gaping mouths. The light from the fl ashlights only cut
    through the fi rst ten feet of darkness down each tunnel.
    Adrien stopped. “Third tunnel on the right. Here we are.”
    He pointed his fl ashlight toward a tunnel at least thirty feet
    in diameter. He stepped up, his boots splashing up the foul
    water as he went. I followed, trying to lift each foot slowly to
    keep the splash to a minimum. I swept my fl ashlight ahead
    but could see only the endless tunnel until it curved out of
    sight to the left.
    “How far are we going?”
    “Far,” Adrien said. “A mile down, we’ll branch off again
    to a narrower tunnel that leads to my mom’s place.”
    “You really know your way around here.”
    “I grew up haunting these tunnels.” He walked smoothly,
    sure footed even in the sludge. “We spent a lot of time here
    when I was small, running ops into the city. Sometimes a
    cell would get cracked and my mom’d have to stow me away
    somewhere safe, like these tunnels. Always with a map to
    memorize and a backpack full of provos in case she didn’t
    come back.” His voice quieted at the end.
    “Adrien . . .” I felt so sad for him suddenly— imagining
    him as a small child, cowering in the dark all alone— but I
    didn’t know the right words to express it. I thought about
    earlier, how he’d squeezed my hand when I was afraid and
    how it had made me feel better. I reached over and took his
    hand.
    He seemed caught off - guard by my touch.
    “Thanks. It’s okay.” His voice was a little rough. “Long
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    G L I TC H
    time ago, you know. Anyway. You said you had a bunch of
    questions. We have some time, so ask away.”
    “Okay,” I said slowly, thinking. All the little bits of infor-
    mation he’d