“Enough!” Flynn clenched his jaw and stared ahead. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Tony shrugged and looked away. It was getting dark. Dim lights started to flicker behind the windows of the intricate web of shacks which protruded from the sides of the buildings along Broadway Canal. His eyes wandered up and followed the outlines of the makeshift homes, sticking out at odd angles, each overhanging the one below. The Lower Side was a vertical shanty town. These shacks had engulfed and in some places completely hidden the original facades of the buildings. They looked like living creatures that had grown in all directions, their tentacles gripping the walls. Most windows were just gaping holes. Some were covered with plastic sheets for more privacy, or just a vain attempt to resemble glass.
Proper glass windows could only be seen on the Upper Side, thought Tony. Buildings there didn’t have barnacle-like housing extensions… But the Lower Side didn’t look strange to him… It was his home, all he had ever known. And yet, he wondered who had braved these heights and built all this… Was there ever a plan, any logic behind all the added constructions? Or did these homes simply grow out of each other? And more importantly, how long would they be able to defy the laws of gravity?
Shouts ahead made Tony tear his gaze away from the shacks. Flynn had stopped the Seeker a few feet from the back of a dingy boat. All sorts of drab floating vessels lined both sides of the canal. No one was moving. A traffic cop on a rusty water-bike pedaled past them, blowing his whistle loudly.
“What’s happening?” Tony craned his neck, trying to see.
“I think there’s been an accident ahead,” said Flynn, standing up on his seat to get a better look. Tony got up and stood next to him. Then they saw it… A block away, one of the suspension bridges, connecting two of the buildings on either side of the canal, had partially collapsed. It was hanging upside down, dangling from its broken cables. Both boys knew that whoever was on the bridge would have been tossed into the water, with very little hope of surviving the fall. They spotted the tiny, ant-like silhouettes of a few survivors, still clinging to the bridge’s twisted frame. Several were slowly crawling up, inching their way to the safety of the nearby building. Rescue Crews were rushing toward them, rappelling down on ropes from the upper floors. The boys couldn’t see what was happening at water level, but could easily imagine the scene… The Waste Crews would be there already, gathering all the dead bodies and taking them away to the morgue at the Waste Pits.
Flynn and Tony had seen this scene play itself out many times over… Accidents occurred almost daily on the Archipelago… especially on the Lower Side. Constructed out of all kinds of salvaged materials, most of the bridges and walkways were engineering miracles, challenging any known structural law. Unfortunately, they were also death traps, claiming their victims regularly, showing no mercy. But people continued using them, fixing and rebuilding the broken bridges in the same devil-may-care manner. It was the way of life here. And life on the Lower Side wasn’t worth much! Survival was simply a given and no big deal. You either made it or you didn’t.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while,” Flynn said finally.
“I think I’m gonna walk home, amigo.” Tony stepped down from the seat.
“You want to walk on one of those bridges? After what just happened!”
“Can’t wait for all this traffic to clear…. My mom’s probably worried sick by now.”
Flynn slumped down on the seat. “Sorry, but I’m not coming with you… Can’t leave the Seeker here, can I?”
“No problem, I’ll manage,” Tony said. He grabbed on to the corroded railing running along the wall next to their raft and hopped off quickly. Having landed on a window’s ledge a couple of feet above the water line, Tony stopped to see where he needed to go next. A little to his right was another large gaping window. He knew this would be his entrance into the building and the first of many dangerous steps to getting home.
“Hey! Don’t forget your dinner!” Flynn tossed the bag of fish and Tony caught it without losing his balance. “See you tomorrow, right?”
Tony hesitated for a moment and shook his head. “Seriously, Flynn… you’d better go and see Madison.” And then, before Flynn had a chance to reply, Tony disappeared inside the dark building.
FOUR
Flynn pedaled past the Waste Collection platform moored against the side of his apartment building. It had been positioned directly under the gaping mouth of the garbage shoot. A lone rat poked its head out from one of the filthy barrels that lined the platform. The rodent stared indifferently at Flynn for a moment then disappeared back inside. Another movement caught Flynn’s eye. He turned to take a better look and was surprised to see the men from the Waste Crew… Their barge was rounding the corner, coming to collect the barrels full of raw sewage that the residents had thrown out that day.
The men looked awful! Terrible! Even Flynn’s torn and faded clothes appeared decent and new compared to what these men were wearing… just pieces of burlap wrapped around their hips, like deformed extensions of their skeletal bodies. Smeared with unimaginable filth from head to toe, the Waste Crew moved silently around the trash bins. Long strands of matted hair hung from their bony skulls. All of them had scraggly beards, reaching down to their chests. With all the water around the Archipelago, these men had not bothered to wash… And they stank to high heaven… No wonder people avoided them at all cost, thought Flynn, holding his breath and trying not to gag.
The Waste Crew worked late at night, and Flynn knew their appearance at such an early hour was because of the collapsed bridge. They had come out to pick up the dead bodies and were now doing their rounds. But he had never seen them this close before. He also knew that all these men were considered criminals… Lower Siders who had broken the law… Men who had committed petty crimes like wasting fresh water, illegal scavenging and trading goods on the Black Market…. activities Flynn was quite familiar with himself…
He had recently sailed past their living quarters, just outside the city limits and next to the Waste Plots. The Waste Crew’s home was a large floating shack, its roof covered in layers of sea-gull droppings and birds’ feathers. As for the Waste Plots, those were huge open-top tankers full of human waste and garbage. The Archipelago’s gardeners were the only ones who actually ventured out there, but that was because their job required it. They had to make trips to the Waste Plots and stock up on sewage for their compost tumblers. The thick humus they produced then went to the numerous green-houses to help grow all the fruit and vegetables on the Upper Side. Of course, the privileged bastards who lived there would never dream of coming anywhere near the Waste Plots, thought Flynn. And they would never find themselves in such close proximity to the men of the Waste Crews…
Now, Flynn also wanted to get away from them, but the Waste Crew barge had docked next to his building’s platform and was blocking the Seeker. There were half a dozen men on it, their eyes staring ahead, their bodies moving as one grim and soulless apparition. A pack of rats scurried out of one of the barrels, dived in the water and swam away. The men didn’t even notice the rats. Slowly, they began to empty out the garbage. One of them jerked his head and his watery eyes met Flynn’s. The Waste Crews were not allowed to approach and make contact with the regular citizens… but the man didn’t lower his gaze… he kept staring. His nose twitched and his eyes darted to the plastic bag with the fish fillets on the seat next to Flynn. The man licked his thin, dry lips and swallowed hard. Flynn instinctively grabbed the fish bag and pulled it closer. He should leave, he thought, get out of here! But the man’s eyes were back on Flynn, hungry and pleading.