Chapter Two
AKM7’s eyes of mismatched blue and brown gazed in a sense of almost wonder toward the rabbit warren of tunnels that was his home. He was a young man, no older than fifteen or sixteen, but as the Underground People did not keep records of birth, it was hard to say exactly how old he was. He had a slender face, much like a greyhound or a whippet, one that bore the slight feminine features of youth and skin the rich tan colour of coffee. He adjusted the wolf-pelt cloak that the boy wore draped around his shoulders to keep him warm in the dark dampness of the underground.
Coming-of-age was a momentous occasion in the life of an Undergrounder, as it was when they received their names. To one living in no better conditions than an animal, a name was nothing but a sign of one’s maturity as opposed to a staple of identity. He scrambled on his hands and toes toward one of the various tunnels that branched off in other directions. There was never enough room to stand up in the tunnels, and most of the inhabitants walked with a slouch, if they ever found the need to fully stand in their short lives at all.
The boy bounded through the tunnels, knowing the way without having to stop or think once. His callused hands and feet ignored the sharp rocks and hard ground that he flew over. His entire body was smeared with dirt, but he took no notice of it. He rounded the corner, hurrying from the main tunnel into a small hollowed out section that AKM7 lived in.
His burrow was small and extremely modest. Nothing decorated his room of dirt and mud. A small makeshift bed made out of dirt, old feathers and dry grass lay in the corner, and that was about it. He shared his burrow with no one. The Undergrounders were people of little words and even smaller relationships. AKM7 shed his fur garment and nestled down into his bed, throwing the cloak over himself as a blanket. The people of the Underground had many uses for their limited recourses. Above his head he could hear the clanking of machinery and the whirring of gears that powered the city in the sky, the city that his people worked hard to provide for. His eyes started to droop, the hunter had had an exhausting day, his muscles ached with the pain of physical exertion and he was certain to have a hard day tomorrow chasing wild animals with a spear to satisfy the Above’s growing demand in food.
And with that, the sounds of machinery muffled by dirt ticking like a heartbeat in his ear, the hunter fell asleep.
