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“Come on, this way,” I shout, dragging Sophia behind me.
The entrance to the underground speedway has a barrier across it, the face of which has already been scrawled with political graffiti. One board hangs loose, and we manage to squeeze through the gap. We jump the disused turnstiles and head down into the bowels of the city, searching for the platform that will take us to Sophia’s house.
The ancient emergency lighting system flickers on and off, casting eerie shadows, but it is enough to see by. “This way,” says Sophia, leading us unerringly to the correct platform.
“I take it you’ve been here before?” I ask her.
“Yes, the entrance is only a couple of blocks away from my house. I used to always use the speedway when it was running. They closed it down when the war started,” Sophia says. “They said it was for the safety of the public. But I think the funds just weren’t there to maintain it.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. War is never cheap.”
The bullet pods are lined up and gathering dust. I wonder briefly if we could get one of them going, but I figure we would probably waste more time doing so than running the line on foot.
“This is creepy,” says Sophia. “It feels like a tomb or something.”
“It’s safer than the streets above,” I reply. But I know what she means. The air smells musty and disused.
We jump down onto the line and head into the dark unwelcoming tunnel. Simultaneously, we both switch on our comm flashlights. My military comm light is much stronger than hers, but it still does nothing to dispel the shadows ahead of us.
The tunnel goes on and on, the monotonous darkness stretching ahead. Occasionally, we hear the scurrying of feet. Some small rodents escaping the intrusion to their usually lightless home? Or is it something larger and more sinister?
I’m beginning to doubt the wisdom of entering this underground world. Anything could have made a home here since the speedway was shut down. But eventually, we can make out a faint light from the murky depths ahead.
“This is it,” she says as we climb up onto the empty platform. “There used to be a guy there every day selling junk food and cheap tacky ornaments for the tourists,” she tells me, pointing to a small kiosk. “And it was always busy with people coming and going. The higher education facility was close by, so it was always vibrant and full of life.”
“I take it they shut the education facilities about the same time they shut the speedway?” I ask.
“Yes. Anywhere where too many people would gather. They said it made too tempting a target.”
I look around at the redundant platform. Now there is garbage strewn across the floor and the kiosk is locked shut. Someone has obviously been down here, as there is graffiti across the wall declaring the fucking Alliance bastards should go home. Although who they thought would read their well-thought-out political slogan down here, I’m not quite sure.
I offer her my hand as we head for the exit. But when we get to where it should open up to the street, there’s a barrier in the way that is locked tight.
“Shit,” she says. “What are we going to do? I don’t want to have to retrace our steps.”
“Fuck it,” I say. “Stand back.”
Pulling my plasma gun, I take aim at the lock. This is strictly not the correct use for a military weapon, but I’m in total agreement. We are not retracing our steps.
I pull the trigger and watch with satisfaction as the lock melts away. I boot open the doors and we come out into bright daylight. The sun is shining from a clear sky, and everything appears calm in this part of the city. It could be any other normal day as we walk down the street to Sophia’s house. There are even children playing in the park.
The only sign that there is anything out of the ordinary going on is the flow of incoming messages from my comm. Kyltic is pissed that I’m not back on base. I should be there with the rest of my unit. The entire base is on standby, but he hasn’t said what for.
“You need to wait here for me,” I tell Sophia when we get to her door. “I can’t stay with you. Kyltic is already going nuts that I’m not back at the base.”
“That’s fine,” says Sophia lightly. But her eyes betray the worry she is feeling.
“Here, take my plasma gun,” I tell her. “I’m going to go and find out what’s happening, but I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
“Won’t you get in trouble if you turn up without your weapon?” she asks.
“Don’t worry about that,” I assure her. “You need it more than me.”
“You could be going into battle, I think you might need it quite a lot.” She laughs, trying to make light of the situation. Or maybe it’s a sound born from nervousness, I’m not quite sure. Either way, it breaks my heart. I wish fervently that I didn’t have to leave her.
“I’ll get another one,” I insist as I push it into her unresisting hands.
“Oh, Drex, I’m worried about you,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck.
