Tim, a garbage handler in a post-apocalyptic bunker, loses the little he has. But then he finds Amy, the redhead with an attitude. Together, they will try to change the world they live in.
--
Tim is one of those who shovel the shit and clean away th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The cabin of the crane grew smaller as it slowly trundled away from me.
I stood on the narrow ledge. Fearing the fall to the cavern's hard ground many meters below me, I pushed my back against the cold wall.
A lamp hung from the ceiling next to me, almost within reach, its wide shade at the level of my feet. I prayed its evening-glow still had the strength to dazzle the guards' probing eyes.
If they saw me, I'd be trapped—an easy target.
I could give up now. Let them take me. They'd take me to my father. We'd be together.
The cabin rumbled as it moved along its track. The craner looked back at me, mouthing something, gesturing at the door.
He was about sacrifice himself. For me.
I owed him for that. I could not give up now.
To the right of me, the ledge continued to the chute, whose smooth, steep surface would make it impossible to climb upwards. And down wasn't the way to go even if I'd survive the slide.
On my left side, the ledge ended at the door.
It was the only way out of here. I turned towards it, hugging the wall and staying as far from the beckoning fall as I could.
More a hatch than a door, its upper frame reached my chest. A layer of paint covered it, flaking off at places and revealing the pitted, corroded metal underneath.
The paint formed a sign, a red, crossed-through circle, cutting right through the black outline of a man. Its message needed no words.
Forbidden to man
Gritting my teeth, I seized the small handle and pulled.
Nothing happened. I pulled harder, and suddenly, the door yielded, coming open on screeching hinges. As I stumbled back, one of my feet slipped from the ledge. I held on to the handle to stop my fall.
For a moment, I hung there. Then I grabbed the edge of the hatch, hauled myself back up, and took a deep breath.
The noise of the opening door must have been loud enough for them to hear. I turned to check on my pursuers. They gazed upwards in my direction.
Wolfe still held the gun in his hand.
Did they see me?
A rattling noise made them and me look up. The crane's grapple was right above their heads, descending towards them. And it was fast, its chains clattering like a rockslide.
