Page 78 of The Only Way Out Is Up

Good. Watch the far end, we’re coming through.

“Star says we can cut through a tunnel here.” I point up ahead. “Saves having to climb that ridge and down the other side.”

“Lovely—”

“But tunnels mean Twisted. So stay sharp.”

We hike to the entrance. It’s a big one, high enough that neither of us has to stoop. The floor is compacted junk, smoothed out by the passage of something big and heavy.

“Stars,” Ky breathes as she looks around. “You weren’t kidding.”

“About what?”

“The Twisted.”

“You thought I was kidding?”

“No, just”—she touches the wall—“hard to believe until you see it for yourself.”

[Danger: movement spotted. Coming our way.]

“Something’s coming.” I point at the tunnel exit. “Hurry up.”

We break into a jog. Then, after another update from Star, a run. My heart is beating fast—we’re pretty deep now, close to the center, and the Twisted are big and nasty. This tunnel doesn’t have any side branches. If we get stuck in here, we’ll end up smeared against the walls.

[Query: should I divert it?]

Nearly there. My mask is fogged with my panting. Nearly—

I stumble out into the light again. Ky is close behind, and I grab her hand and duck to one side, putting a chunk of protruding concrete between us and the tunnel entrance. Seconds later, the junk starts shaking again. The Twisted has the classic centipede shape, a long, narrow body with legs sprouting in random directions. Gleaming discs of optics are studded throughout like flat black jewels. It thunders past us and into the tunnel, easily four meters long, crunching and grinding through the junk.

“Still think I was kidding?” I ask.

“Stars above,” Ky says, breathless. “Was that Rotwurm?”

“Nah. Rotwurm is supposed to be a lot bigger.”

“Oh.”

We trudge farther. According to rumor, Rotwurm’s domain is centered on a junk mountain just to one side of the main impact zone. Supposedly the whole structure is shot through with the thing’s giant tunnels. The peak looms ahead of us now, getting steadily larger as we navigate through broken concrete and metal.

“You swear by the stars, too,” I say, after a while.

“I guess. It’s just something people say.”

“But you’ve never seen them?”

“Seen what?”

“The stars.”

“No,” she says. “I told you, only the Council members and the Lift Guard get to go above the cap.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Why would it bother you?”

“All this amazing stuff is just… up there. Stars, clouds, trees, the moon, all of that. And we never get to see it. Somi says he could die happy if he got to see the stars.”