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.
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Tim is one of those who shovel the shit and clean away th...
In the beginning, the Sun bathed the surface in its warm light for everyone to enjoy.
But then, the rains came.
The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 3, Verse 1
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"Yer idea is brainfuck." Amy's head hid behind the large wicker basket of garbage she carried against her chest. The thing muffled her words.
"Your waste stinks." I carried an even larger basket, embracing it before me. It stank too.
We had picked up these baskets and sneaked out of the city without anyone seeing us. But Amy wasn't happy about the arrangement. She kept nagging as we walked the concourse.
A broad-shouldered man wearing a threadbare shirt and carrying a hoe emerged from one of the fields ahead. Reaching the concourse, he turned towards the city—towards us.
He gazed straight ahead and gave us a wide berth as he passed.
"See?" I whispered. "People don't want to have anything to do with you when you're carrying their garbage. Your stench saves you."
"That's not my stench," she hissed. "Ye're the garbage man."
"Right, and you're the garbage girl now." I was walking ahead of her, blessing the Engineers that she didn't see my grin.
I glanced back. Her naked arms were grimy, and the bright light made the lank mop of red hair above the rim of the basket gleam viciously.
"From here, you look like garbage on legs," I said.
"Eejit!"
"The eejit's plan is working," I answered.
"We're not even halfway there. And if ye go on teasing me, there won't be no control room for ye. Ye'll stay here, hiding in the corn and nursing your crushed balls. I'll do the pushing of buttons and the ruling all by myself."
"If you find that control room."
"I will find it."
There wasn't a hint of doubt in her words.
She was right about us being not even being halfway down the concourse. Its dark ribbon still had a long way to go as it headed straight towards the distant wall where the chutes were.
The cavern felt even larger at day than it had done last night. The fields on both sides were a patchwork of green and gold under the warm lamplight. As we passed a herd of sheep, the baaed at us.
Amy baaed back.
Here and there, farmers were working, bent over their tools or kneeling on the ground.
"Do you see that?" I said. "The peasants are stooped while the garbage people stand tall."
