home

search

Chapter 9: Where the sun don’t shine

  As soon as they had a moment to breathe, the trio ripped off their masks, sucking in deep, desperate breaths of the stale but mercifully breathable air. The weight of the past few minutes settled over them, their chests rising and falling as they recovered from the frantic escape.

  Ellie took the chance to light her flashlight and look around the dark area they found themselves in.

  The room they were in was large and industrial, its walls and floors solid concrete, worn down by time and neglect. Pipes snaked across the walls, some rusted to the point of flaking apart, while large metal valves sat unmoving, likely fused in place from decades of disuse.

  Against one wall, an old, rusted fuse box hung open, its wires tangled and exposed, like some kind of rotting mechanical corpse.

  Ellie frowned. “This place is seriously falling apart.”

  James let out a small, breathless laugh, still coming down from the adrenaline rush, “You’re surprised?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes before moving toward the short set of metal stairs leading downward. Her boots clanked softly against the steel as she descended. At the bottom, she came to a reinforced door, its surface pitted with decades of corrosion.

  She peeked through the small, grime-covered window, her brow furrowing as she tried to make out what lay beyond.

  A tunnel.

  Or more accurately—an abyss.

  It was pitch black, swallowing whatever faint light leaked through the doorway. Frowning, she pulled out a small flashlight and flicked it on, shining its beam into the darkness.

  The tunnel stretched forward into an unending void, its walls narrow and damp, lined with corroded pipes that wept slow, rhythmic drops of water into the shallow stream running along the floor.

  The dim emergency lighting that once illuminated these passageways had long since burned out, leaving nothing but shadows clinging to every surface like a second skin.

  The air was heavy with moisture, the scent of wet concrete, rust, and something faintly rotten hanging thick around them.

  Ellie grimaced slightly, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh… It smells horrible down here.”

  Joel grunted, his expression unreadable. “We’ve been through worse.”

  Ellie frowned, “Doesn’t make it easier.” she said with a sigh.

  James chucked and took a slow step forward, staring into the dark tunnel ahead.

  They stood there for a beat, listening to the distant, echoing sound of dripping water, before Joel let out a quiet sigh.

  “Let’s move.”

  With a final breath, the trio stepped into the tunnel, the darkness closing in around them as they disappeared into the depths.

  .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

  After about fifteen minutes of just walking through the endless maze of tunnels the silence was starting to drive James insane. He stretched his arms above his head as they trudged forward. “So…” He let the word drag out, filling the quiet. “Where are you both from?”

  Ellie kicked a loose rock into the grimy water at their feet. “Boston, born and raised.”

  Joel adjusted the rifle strap on his shoulder. “Texas.”

  James nodded as if filing that information away. “How’d you two meet?”

  Joel and Ellie exchanged a quick look, silently debating how much to tell him. After a beat, Joel sighed through his nose, deciding there was no harm in sharing some basics.

  “I’m delivering her to the Fireflies,” he said, voice even. “Got tasked with it back in Boston.”

  James raised an eyebrow. “The resistance group?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool.”

  Joel and Ellie were slightly surprised by his lack of reaction. Most people either feared, respected, or hated the Fireflies—James just seemed indifferent.

  James kicked a loose pebble into the water running along the side of the tunnel. “So, how’d you get to Boston from Texas?”

  Joel deadpanned, “Walking.”

  James shot him an annoyed look. “You’re hilarious.”

  Joel smirked slightly but said nothing.

  “No, seriously,” James continued. “Why leave Texas?”

  Joel sighed, his eyes flicking to Ellie briefly. He rubbed a hand over his beard-stubbled jaw, his expression hardening as his thoughts drifted to the past. "After the outbreak Texas wasn’t exactly doing well."

  James waited, sensing that Joel wasn’t the type to talk just to talk, and was actually going to give him an answer. Even Ellie seemed interested in the conversation.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Joel’s eyes became a bit distant as he continued. “After the world went to hell, Texas held together for a while. FEDRA set up a QZ in Austin, but it didn’t take long for it to go to shit. They weren’t rationing food right. People started turning on each other.”

  Joel exhaled through his nose. “Then the Cartels came.”

  That made James blink. “Wait—the Cartels? Like, drug Cartels?”

  Joel grunted, giving a small, humorless chuckle. “When society collapses, doesn’t really matter what you used to do, but if you already knew how to smuggle, how to move things without getting caught, how to control people with fear? Well, you had a hell of a head start.”

  James stared at him, processing. “So they just… took over?”

  Joel's expression darkened, “More or less. FEDRA was too weak, too corrupt, and people were starving. The Cartels filled the gap. You needed food? Medicine? Protection? You got it—but you owed them. And if you didn’t pay up…” He trailed off, shaking his head. "People started disappearing. Entire families.”

  James swallowed. “Shit.”

  Joel continued, voice gravelly. “They ran that place like a damn kingdom. Struck a deal with FEDRA that they couldn’t say no to. Had their own ‘law’ and everything. Controlled the roads, the supplies, the black market. Didn’t matter if you were in the QZ or outside of it. You had to deal with ‘em.”

  James’s mouth quirked slightly. “And let me guess. You didn’t want to deal with them.”

  Joel let out a short exhale through his nose, not quite a laugh. “I had a choice: Keep my head down and take orders from people I had no respect for, or get the hell out while I still could.”

  James nodded slowly. “And you chose Boston.”

  Joel glanced at him. “Didn’t exactly have a map of all the safe cities. Boston had one of the bigger QZs. Seemed like a better bet at the time.”

  James hummed in thought, kicking a loose pebble down the damp tunnel as they walked. “Guess nowhere was really a ‘better bet,’ huh?”

  Joel shook his head, voice flat. "Nope."

  Ellie glanced between them before tilting her head at James, a smirk tugging at her lips. "So, you gonna ask me why I left Boston, or do I not get the special treatment?"

  James returned the smirk. "You said you were born there, right?"

  Ellie nodded. "Yeah. It might be super dangerous out of the QZ but at least I don’t have homework anymore." She said with a grin, “God, FEDRA school sucked.”

  James snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah? How bad could they be? They make you pledge allegiance to the fascist overlords before every meal?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. They may have been dicks, but at least they held everything together."

  James raised an eyebrow, genuine curiosity flickering in his expression. "You actually defending them?"

  Ellie sighed, shrugging slightly. She knew many, many people hated them but… "Not really. I’m just saying, people love to act like the Fireflies are the good guys, but look at what happens when FEDRA’s gone. Every QZ taken over by the fireflies has gone to shit. Raiders take over, or some psychopath starts playing warlord, and everything becomes worse. At least in the QZ, you had food and shelter. It sucked, but you were at least alive."

  James was quiet for a moment, considering that. "Guess that depends on what you call ‘alive.’"

  Ellie gave him a sideways look. "And what, you think the alternative’s better?"

  James shrugged, staring at the damp concrete wall as they walked. "I dunno. Maybe? For me, I never would have been able to live there."

  Then, a big grin spread across his face—a look Ellie wasn’t expecting. "The freedom of the outside world is something I wouldn’t trade for anything." His voice had a strange excitement to it, like he truly meant it, like he loved this life.

  Ellie huffed a small laugh, "Yeah, no argument there".

  This kid’s weird, but in a charming way that you can’t help but get sucked into. Ellie probably would not have shared that information with anyone else, but something about James just made her want to trust him.

  James smirked. "So what, were they training you to be the next generation of hardasses or something?"

  Ellie let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Pretty much. They wanted me to be a FEDRA officer one day—keep the system running, stomp out resistance, blah, blah, blah."

  James tilted his head, curiosity but not judgment crossing his face. "And you considered that?"

  Ellie hesitated, running a hand through her hair. "I mean… I didn’t really have a choice, did I? That was life in the QZ. It was either sign up, or—" She gestured vaguely. "Live as a civilian. And civilians have it much worse. Plus, I was kinda born into the system. Was given to FEDRA as a child."

  James let that sit for a second before tilting his head at her, curiosity still flickering behind his eyes.

  “So if you think FEDRA’s necessary, and the Fireflies aren’t doing a good job… why are you going to them? Why not stay in the QZ?”

  Ellie hesitated. She didn’t know how much to tell him, how much she even wanted to tell him. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides.

  Joel, sensing the tension, spoke up before she could.

  “She’s got her reasons.” His tone left no room for debate.

  James, however, wasn’t so easily brushed off. He knew the reason, but at the same time he didn’t. He knew Ellie as the video game character, a one dimensional persona on a screen you can’t actually ask questions. He wanted to get to know the Ellie in front of him, "I mean, yeah, but—" He turned back to Ellie. "You could’ve just stayed, right? Why risk your life going across the country for a group you don’t even trust?"

  Ellie rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding his gaze. "It’s complicated."

  James narrowed his eyes slightly, studying her. Then, after a beat, he simply shrugged. "Fair enough. But if it were me? I wouldn’t be risking my life for a cause I didn’t believe in."

  Ellie shot him a look, her expression unreadable. "Yeah, well… maybe I believe in something."

  James held her gaze for a moment longer before nodding, seemingly accepting that answer. “Guess we’ll see.”

  The conversation lulled into silence, the weight of reality settling back over them.

  Joel, gruff as ever, muttered, "Alright, enough chattin’. Keep your eyes open."

  The moment was gone. They pressed forward, stepping deeper into the tunnel, the damp darkness swallowing them whole.

  .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

  As they pressed deeper into the tunnels, their surroundings shifted subtly.

  Graffiti covered sections of the walls, but unlike the usual old gang tags and warnings, these were newer, fresher. Strange symbol-like markings had been scratched into the concrete—some resembling simple arrows, others looking like rough lamp-like shapes.

  Joel noticed them too. “Someone’s been down here.”

  James ran a hand over one of the lamp symbols, feeling the indentation in the stone. “I’ve seen these… all around the city.”

  Ellie frowned. “What do you think it means?”

  James shrugged. “Could be directions, could be warnings, or just someone leaving their mark.”

  They kept moving, more cautious now, and stumbled across something else.

  They reached an intersection, where two tunnels cross. The place where the tunnels met was a larger space, about the size of a bedroom. The interesting thing though was a stack of rusted supply crates pushed into a corner. They were emptied out, but a few plastic wrappers and old food cans remained, indicating someone had used this as a supply cache.

  Joel crouched down, running a hand over a crate’s surface, his expression hardening. “Someone’s livin’ down here.”

  Ellie looked around warily. “Maybe we should—”

  Before she could finish, a shriek tore through the tunnel.

  A guttural yell echoed from the passage ahead, followed by the frantic rattling of chains.

  Joel instantly raised his rifle, Ellie and James tensing beside him and raising both of their pistols.

  From the front and right tunnels, four infected lunged toward them, their arms flailing wildly. Joel fired a shot killing one of them. James and Ellie raised their guns and got ready to fire as well but just as they reached striking distance, their bodies jerked to a halt.

  The chains binding them to the walls snapped tight, stopping them inches short of sinking their decayed teeth into flesh.

  Ellie staggered back, eyes wide. “Jesus—what the hell?”

  James’ heart pounded and he backed up a bit, but his eyes flicked over the setup with interest. “They’re chained up… someone put them here on purpose.”

  Joel grimaced, eyes scanning the area warily, “Trap”.

  As if on cue, a creaking snap echoed beneath their feet. The infected had forced James and Ellie back into the left tunnel, right onto a rotten wooden board.

  Before either of them could react, the ground suddenly collapsed, the flimsy floor not holding their weight.

  “Shit—!”

  James was the first to hit the ground, rolling with the impact as he landed several feet below in a narrow pit of murky water. Ellie landed just behind him, splashing into the shallow pool.

  Joel grunted in surprise, having not fallen into the trap. He rushed over in alarm and looked down the pit, worried for Ellie’s safety “You alright!?” he questioned.

  Ellie coughed. “Ugh. Smells like ass.”

  James pulled himself up, shaking water off his hands. “I think I just swallowed something that was alive.”

  Joel grabbed his flashlight and shined into the dark pit they found themselves in.

  It was small, cramped, and wet. The broken floorboard added to the debris that littered the ground.

  “Alright, Ellie get on Jame’s shoulders, i'm going to pull-”

  Before Joel could finish they heard something that caused them to freeze.

  “Hands up pal, I’d rather not shoot” A deep voice said followed by the cocking of a gun.

Recommended Popular Novels