11.17
It takes much too long, but I manage to get myself into a sitting position, breathing too hard and dizzy.
My eyes are flickering darkness, which doesn’t help the nausea. My ears scream at me, and I finally remember I can reach up and turn them off and on, messing with the volume until they settle back down. They’re new, but hopefully, I didn’t do any irreparable damage to them in however far I fell. My eyes are mostly a lost cause already.
Finally, I try to take stock of how bad off I am.
The most obvious is my left arm, the metal bone at an odd angle, not breaking out of my skin but close, I’d bet. I close my eyes again and breathe through my nose. But everything smells of blood and rotten algae, so that doesn’t help. I put my good hand—still bloody and bruised and covered in grime—to my ribs and wince, too afraid to press hard enough to feel if they’re broken. They certainly feel that way. I twist my ankles, which hurts like hell but isn’t impossible, so no broken legs. My right ankle feels swollen inside my boot, so it’s probably sprained at the best. I think I can probably still walk on it. If I have to. Which I do.
I don’t bother feeling my face. I know I’m cut up and bruised. Nothing I can do about it right now. I can sit up, which is a good enough sign I can probably walk, but damn I wish Bat would find me. I could use some of the humans too, the support they could lend, but the more I sit here with this strange woman blinking at me, the more I believe that unlikely. Zane and Lalia don’t need me anymore, and Yvonne…well, I think she cares, and I think she still needs me, but she doesn’t need me so badly she’d risk Anya’s safety in coming down here.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m glad she isn’t. I can’t imagine the type of trouble they would get in down here. There are people here that would scrap me for parts. They’d take Anya’s arms and legs off her in a second and shoot Yvonne for getting in the way.
I shudder, which hurts like hell, and stare at the sickly moss covering the metal I’m lying on.
Yes, it’s definitely better those two don’t come after me. Bat can manage it—
My comm.
I put my hand to my ear, but the external comm I’ve been using that Lex gifted me is missing. My heart rate picks up. I don’t know if it would even connect down here, but it was better than nothing. I glance at the woman, but her open, curious expression hasn’t changed. She probably went through my pockets while I was unconscious, but I don’t think I had anything of value in them. Feeling my pant pocket, I catch the comforting shape of my electric knife, so perhaps she didn’t.
“Do you have my comm?” I ask.
She cocks her head at me.
“You can have it, I don’t care, but I need to call someone first. You can have it after I call them, alright?” I say, realizing how desperate my voice sounds, but she only looks more confused. I wonder if she even grasps what I’m talking about.
“My comm?” I try to clarify, tapping my ear. “A little metal and plastic thing you put in your ear?”
She props her chin on her palm and gazes at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I genuinely don’t think she took it. Most likely, it got knocked out in the scuffle—it certainly isn’t anywhere on the ground around me. And I don’t want to try to search her. She seems friendly enough, if completely off her rocker, and she may be the only thing I have resembling help down here. I don’t want to frighten or anger her.
“Shit,” I whisper, putting my palm to my forehead only to grimace in pain. I was already missing Audra before all this. It’s worse now. She would help me, carry me out of here, let me lean on her, and get me somewhere safe. She’d barely have any emotion on her face but she’d do it.
Get a grip, Aaron, I tell myself. Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Think about your options and figure it out.
It’s easier to tell myself that than it is to put it into action. The entire world is still spinning. Every straight thought I have feels difficult to grasp and quick to flee. This old woman says there isn’t a way out, but there has to be. They have to be eating, and getting supplies, and the tunnels and core of this monster city aren’t self-sufficient, which means someone, somewhere is bringing goods down.
“How do you get food down here?” I ask.
She gestures over her shoulder in an unspecified direction.
All around us are metal tunnels filled with dripping, gray-green mosses and algae. Above me, the tunnel extends far up and up to a pinpoint of something light. A way out, but even if I was in full health I don’t know if I’d be able to climb the slick metal walls straight up. Now, I’m not even certain I can walk a straight, flat road out of here, let alone climb something. I’m down an arm and perhaps a leg. No use even considering it.
Behind me and in front of me, as well as over the woman’s shoulder, tunnels extend into darkness, dripping echoing drops of water. My throat is dry and painfully thirsty, but even I probably won’t survive drinking what water is trickling through. The tunnels are huge, much too large for what little bits of water run down. I shiver to think of why they’re built so big. Tons of stories about this place filter through my mind, but there are just people who live down here. People who would probably scrap me for parts, but still.
Now is not the time to panic about stories, Aaron.
I try, “Where do you live?”
She gestures in the same unspecified direction over her shoulder.
Well, maybe there’s a little community down here with someone half a percent saner. I can’t trust this lady, can’t trust anyone down here, but I have very few options and am almost certain the ones I do have are running out. Already, I feel like I’m going to pass out again. I need water and medical supplies and probably pain pills because even my body might go into shock sometime soon.
I hate to say the words, but I ask, “Will you help me?”
She blinks, but I know she has to understand what I mean. She has been speaking to me in the same language. Oddly, but she has been speaking.
“Please?” I ask. “I won’t hurt you, I just need to find my…friends. I don’t know where I am.”
She’s old enough to be someone’s grandmother, and I hope and pray she sees something in me that gives her some compassion, even if it’s only to lead me to wherever she lives.
She shrugs and gets up. “Do you have anything for me?”
Despair hurts, and I shrug helplessly, “I’m not even sure I’m not going to keel over dead at any second. My arm is broken, but if the panel is still intact, I can pay you?”
She eyeballs my arm. The panel in it is at an odd angle along with the bone—I need to straighten that before my body decides to try to heal itself, but I don’t know if I can right now. Or if I’ll pass out if I try.
She doesn’t look too impressed, but there’s nothing else I’ve got. I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t too impressed with the idea of a payday, but maybe she thinks my panel won’t work.
“Are there people after you?” she asks, which is probably a smart question but I wish she hasn’t asked.
“I don’t know,” I admit, which really isn’t a lie. I can’t imagine any of those numbers would follow me down here. The fall probably should’ve killed me, and if this woman’s words are any indication, it isn’t exactly an easy trip into the center of the floating city.
She shrugs and says, “I don’t have anything for you, but you can follow if ya want.”
Getting to her feet, she waddles off down the tunnel behind her. Lucky for me she’s about as quick as a particularly old turtle, so by the time I drag myself to my feet, leaning against the wall, she’s still in view. My ankle is definitely twisted, but it doesn’t feel broken when I put weight on it. I’m dizzy as hell, but I’ve nowhere else to go and no other idea of how to help myself out of this situation.
Cradling my arm and trying to think of anything other than the pain, I follow the woman down into the dark of the tunnel.