If she had heard, Kerwen made no indication. Instead she was continuing to softly smack her head against the table, sighing, and muttering, “Dammit.”
Syn turned the flashlight over in her hands, looking at both ends as if it were a wonder of the gods themselves. “But I thought everything burned?”
“It did.”
“So how are there any trees left to pick from?” She was careful to not mention her knowledge of the groves. “And where are these trees?”
Kerwen flicked on her flashlight, illuminating the thin metal shed they were in. Dark, rusted tools hung around them. “There’s a few that are a bit tougher than others. And they weren’t up here. They’re down below.” She held the flashlight under her chin, casting long shadows across her face, and lowering her voice. “In… the… basements.” Kerwen gave a dark, mock cackle afterwards. Pointing the flashlight at the ground, she said, “Ever been there?”
“The basements?”
Kerwen smiled. “Come on. Follow me. The faster we get this done the better.”
Syn left the workshop through the creaking door and walked in the direction of the main gate they had first entered Zondon through.
“Where are you heading?” Kerwen shouted, slamming the door behind her.
Syn turned and glanced around, suddenly lost and confused. The access to the lower levels had always been through the stairways off of the Jacobs. Each Jacob had an adjacent stairway to the lower levels, all the way down to the body farms. Zondon was in the middle of the base—it was a trek to the Jacobs. How else would they get there?
Kerwen’s mouth dropped open, “Were you going outside?” She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing loudly. “We don’t go out unless we absolutely have to. And we’re just going for apples.” With a grunt, she turned around. “I said follow me.”
Kerwen led to the right, past the main work-sheds, along the dirt covered path. To their right a sign boldly declared Aviary: The Birds of Earth. None of the paint had faded, in part due to its placement under an overhang, shielded from both the light and the elements.
“Here first.” Kerwen turned into an alleyway and opened up a small door that Syn would’ve overlooked had it not been pointed out to her. Kerwen ducked inside, and Syn almost followed until she heard, “Wait here.” A moment later, Kerwen swore and several things clattered to the ground, followed by a muffled, “Found it.” Kerwen reappeared gripping Syn’s spear in her hand.
“You found it!” Syn immediately reached for it, brightening at the sight of her favorite weapon.
Kerwen yanked it back, “Woah! Let’s lay down some ground rules.”
Syn narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“First, this is me trusting you. Not Neci nor Taji. Me. So point the pointy end away from me at all times.”
“Taji knows you’re doing this?”
“She won’t always be with us. And it doesn’t matter what Taji knows.”
“If you’re so scared, why are you giving it to me?” Syn’s fingers were still splayed open, outstretched and ready.
“There be some nasty ol’ things down where we going. Maybe we get out without stirrin’ anything up, but I’m not counting on it.” Kerwen moved the spear closer an inch, just beyond the edge of Syn’s fingertips.
Syn lowered her voice to a whisper. “You don’t want me to stab you when you’re in front of me?”
Kerwen nodded.
Syn’s hand reached out in a flash and wrapped around the spear shaft, pulling it toward herself but Kerwen didn’t let go. Syn huffed, “Maybe before you held me down last night and threatened me, you should’ve thought about that.”
Kerwen smiled. “See here,” she shot a glance at the spear, “This here is a peace offering. I need you to be armed. I can’t be doing my job and keeping an eye on you. And I also know that if I don’t give you a little trust, we ain’t ever gonna be okay.”
Syn didn’t respond.
Kerwen said, “Promise me?” She relaxed her hold but didn’t let go, allowing Syn to pull the spear closer. “Seriously. I don’t want to be enemies. Promise?” She inclined her head forward.
Syn gave a slight nod, and Kerwen released the spear.
Kerwen turned her back to Syn and began to walk down the pathway, a sign to her left pointing the way with a large green arrow to South America.
Syn grunted, “I don’t want to be enemies either.”
At the edge of the Zoo had been an exhibit of South American animals—it was a minimalized version of a rainforest with fat vines snaking up the trees and buildings, and fan-like leaves stretched like umbrellas overhead, blotting out the already gray sky. These branched off from a gigantic tree—monstrous in this empty world, but small compared to Syn’s tree that still stood in her world. At its base, a tunnel opened, serving as the entrance to this part of the Zoo.
In the middle of the tunnel, hidden from view, a hole had been dug, and in the center was a metal hatch, flat against the ground. Kerwen moved the three deadbolts that anchored it tight. The third one gave her trouble, and she grunted until it clunked back and the pressure below the hatch escaped with a hiss. Kerwen tilted her head. “Help me with this. Bastard’s heavy.”
The two heaved at the door together, lifting the great weight up slowly. The hinges weren’t stuck or rusted—the entire contraption appeared to have regular use—it was just huge and heavy.
“Drop it,” Kerwen said as they raised it vertical. The two let go, and then the door fell wide open and slammed to the ground with a deafening clang. Syn jumped back, fearful her toes would be caught underneath.
“Ha! Wish Ngozi had been that fast. She lost her little toe the first time she helped.”
Syn picked up her spear and shifted her pack on her back. The weight in the backpack shifted, and the entire thing threatened to slide off her shoulder, so she pulled the straps tight against herself. “Who’s Ngozi?”
“A Sister. When we first dug this thing and put the door in, there were more wild machines in those days, and they were barricading us in Zondon.” She kicked the door and leaned over, looking into the dark space below. “But we needed a way to get to the farms. So, Neci thought of this thing. Actually, I think Pigeon found the hatch below and figured we should dig down.”
Syn looked into the hole, fearful of leaning too far and falling. She had looked upon the world from a great height as she descended the Jacobs, but something about the unknown depth of this grotesque hole stirred a vertigo in her. A set of bolted-together metal rungs in a makeshift ladder dropped into the hole. The sides weren’t dirt. Instead, they had bored into the metal of the ground itself and torn open the barriers between in great sheets. The rips in the metal were obvious, and the pieces were folded back to form a tunnel that fell into blackness. “How—how far down?”
Kerwen turned on her flashlight and aimed it down. The light flooded the top of the hole but did little to illuminate the bottom—there was still no view of where the ladder ended. Kerwen said, “It’s far.”
From behind them, Taji’s grumpy voice boomed. “Just get going. Who cares how deep it is?”