Goddess In Training

Chapter 3- Marked

I sloshed down the long tunnel. A wreaking smell of toxic unmentionables made my nose twitch and the sound of dripping water echoed through the pipes. The curved walls covered with slime and the hazy green water both equally induced vomit. 

This is what I now call home. 

A series of black markings guided the remainder of our kind through the maze of sewer tunnels, but with all my coming and going I already had it memorized.  When I need to double check and wipe away the slime to see the mark, it still never fails to make me gag. 

The crashing of water. The clanking of metal. The shuffle of boots. 

I turned the corner to see a giant room. At the center of the chamber was huge pipe pumping out thousands of gallons of water. Metal platforms lined the walls, men and women alike hustling and bustling, exiting one tunnel and entering another. Scaffolding everywhere.  People hung from ropes with wrenches, bolts and other tools, fixing the pipes.

The deafening sound of water, sweat and survival. 

The heart of the sewer system. 

For us, this is the town square.  The circular tunnels running along the walls, though originally used as sewer pipes, were now our roadways. Some were exits to the surface, others were entrances to underground neighborhoods and some were work areas. 

Every person had a job assigned to them. Many were mechanical technicians. We have medical personal, accountants that distribute food instead of money, warriors who patrol the tunnels, and gardeners to produce what food we can on our own. I am a scavenger as well as a warrior. 

I turned to the right and walked up the metal platform. The body of people flowed down the walkway like the crowds in Vegas. But this group was not near as lively. I continued with the somber parade until I reached my exit, 'Tunnel 32A'. 

If I didn't hurry I would be late.

Entering the passage, I flew through the mucky water and to a bronze door off the tunnel with a wheel handle. I gave a great heave, unbolted the door and stepped inside.

A chill of cold air gave me goose bumps. In front of me was an older man in a worn leather jacket and home knit gloves. He sat at a desk filling out papers with a bit of charcoal. There was another door behind him. It was bolted tight and locked. This was the food safe. The man looked up from his work and smiled behind his big red beard.

"Ah Berlin! Glad to see you back safe and sound! All the others have already dropped of their due, did you find anything?"

I paused for a moment. Being a scavenger you were supposed to give everything you found to the food bank. At the beginning of each week all the residents were given their rations for seven days. It's not nearly enough for even half that  time. My sister and I haven't eaten for three whole days. 

My stomach complained loudly with a thunder storm of grumbles.

The can of beans became heavier by the second.

"No sir. I'm very sorry, I couldn't find a thing." I said convincingly giving a fake sigh of disappointment. 

Mr. Davison's shoulders sagged, " I see. I suggest though if you'd like to remain the scavengers captain you had better find something pretty great in this next week." he bent his head to look at the papers. "The people are going to have an even smaller ration amount than last week."

I felt a mixture of anger and guilt, "I just picked a bad spot today I guess. I'll do better tomorrow sir." 

He made an effort for a smile, "Thank you Berlin, you truly are the best of your squad."