I slough from the opening and roll into the larger cave. With my entire left side already stiffening from injury, it takes several seconds to stand. I turn up the light until my hand crawls with flame. The increased effort causes my eyes to flicker and my head to swim. I brace myself against the wall.
Eventually, I’m able to focus on my surroundings. The cave is several meters across. While the ceiling isn’t any higher than it was in the cell, the floor has been dug twice as deep. I stagger forward as far as I dare by myself and find nothing but wooden crates.
Too dizzy to maintain the effort, I extinguish the light and retrace my steps in the dark. I poke my head into the cell opening and call out, “Neca, the coast is clear.”
“No need to yell,” he responds from right in front of me.
“Oh, sorry.” I grab his hands and help him wiggle the rest of the way out. “I don’t understand. Why would someone go through the trouble of dragging us underground just to leave us here?”
Holding my hand, Neca gropes toward the center of the cave until he locates the nearest crate. “Maybe they’re not hostiles after all.”
I hear hope creeping into his words, and I say, “Or maybe they locked the entrance to the entire bunker.”
“Maybe.” Neca scoots further along the stack of crates. “What all is in here?”
“I got too dizzy to look any further. The immediate area is full of these crates. They’re stacked along the middle, two or three deep.”
“You haven’t looked inside any of them?” Neca asks.
“No, not yet.”
“We need to find a source of light.”
I hear the top of a crate creak open, followed by the sound of Neca rustling around inside it. I ask, “How do you propose we do so?” A sharp crack resonates from inside the crate, causing me to jump. Before I can ask Neca what he has done, a steady blue light rises from the box.
“Like that,” Neca holds a chemical stick up to his smiling face.
“That reminds me.” I slap him lightly across the cheek.
“What was that for?” He feigns injury.
I slap myself a little harder. “Just a mental note I made earlier.”
“Oh?” Neca laughs. “And I only had one slap coming?”
“There’s probably others I’ve forgotten about. That was the most recent.”
“Fair enough. And the slap to yourself?”
I change the subject. “How did you know there would be a chemical stick in there?”
Neca shuffles away and removes the lid to another crate without answering my question.
I follow behind him, inspecting the contents. The first crate looks to contain mostly dried food, a definite bonus if we end up being trapped down here. I snag a piece of what looks like tapir jerky and hold it up to my nose for a sniff. “You think this stuff is safe to eat?”
“I doubt they’ve stored away a bunch of poisoned food.” Neca moves on to a third crate.
“It could have gone bad. Who knows how long it’s been down here.”
“Three months,” he says without hesitation.
“And how would you—”
“It’s branded on the boxes.”
I stoop to confirm his claim. Sure enough, a date from three months ago is burned into the side of the crate. “Now you’re just showing off.”
Neca straightens and sighs before handing me an unlit chemical stick. “I wish that were the case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he shakes his head. “I’m still trying to figure it out. The one thing I do know, I’ve seen these crates before.”
“Wait. These crates? I thought you said they were packed three months ago?”
“Not these exact crates.” He lowers one to the floor of the cave and sits on it before inviting me to do the same.
I part of me wants to resist him. Something deep inside screams that I should keep him at a distance, but it’s only the two of us down here. No academy, no administration, no Toltec sifting my thoughts in search of ways to hurt the ones I love. So I accept.
As I sit and scoot next to him, he continues, “Most of these were packed by Centavo.”
“What?”
“The one thing he told me he puts in every crate of supplies is a chemical stick. That’s how I knew it would be there. Every single one, he always packs a chemical stick. He said it was so that if you were ever caught in the dark, no matter which crate you opened, a source of light would always be at hand.”
“But Centavo left New Teo eight months ago. He couldn’t have packed these,” I say.
“Like I said, I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe someone else packed them for him. Or maybe he packed these from outside of Worker City. For all we know, he might have gone back.”
“Or maybe somebody else is smart enough to put a source of light in each box. Maybe it’s a standard procedure in the Guard.”
“The Guard,” Neca scoffs. “You really think the Guard has been stashing supplies in hastily dug bunkers outside the shield dome?”
I get defensive. “There could be a reason.”
“I suppose, but I think there’s a much more likely explanation to all of this.” He turns to face me, our eyes so close I can barely focus on him.
My initial instinct is to say something smart, an insult, but I swallow it. The last several months of treating Neca poorly have damaged me more than I want to admit. I simply don’t have the stomach for hurting him anymore. And without any threat to protect him from, I drop the act. “Tell me.”
“You’re not going to like it,” he warns.
“I want to hear it. No,” I correct myself, “I need to hear it.”
“Okay.” Neca swallows, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “The people who live outside the PNR, the people who Centavo had me deliver supplies to, the very same people who attacked us tonight—they’re not just exiles. They’re an organized resistance.”
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