the sewers,” Alexis said. “You really need to keep an eye on these.” She looked up at the cobwebs. “The black widows are poisonous.”
“And they’re everywhere,” Marty added.
I took a step toward Joshua. I’d never been fond of spiders, no matter the size. Before us the drain turned. Cockroaches scuttled away as we approached. We rounded the bend and the tunnel narrowed. There were only a few inches left between my head and the dingy ceiling. Joshua and Tyler had to duck.
“This part of the drainage is only about 5 and a half feet high,” Marty explained in a quiet voice as I filmed. “But some parts are even lower. Did you know that there are over 300 miles of drains below Vegas?” His eyes met mine. He reminded me of a puppy looking for approval from its owner.
I shook my head. “What did they use them for?”
His face lit up at the prospect of telling me more. “After heavy rainfall in the area, the water was guided through the drains, so it wouldn’t flood the city. But don’t worry. It hasn’t rained in a while.”
“But sometimes the factories sent down their polluted water,” Alexis added. “A few kids have got killed that way.”
We carried on, eventually having to keep to the sides as we balanced along the edge of a ditch about a metre deep. A shallow rivulet trickled through the middle, carrying with it the stink of wet cloth and garbage, and again a hint of sulphur. But I couldn’t shield my face; I needed my arms to balance and hold the camera.
Eventually the drain widened and a voice carried over to us. This part was dry and it was a relief to be able to walk in the middle since it was even. Dim light came from bulbs attached to the ceiling. Marty cast the beam of light on the head of a dirty teddy bear leaning against the moldy wall. A boy sat beside it. He couldn’t have been older than twelve, but he looked completely out of it.
“What’s he doing?” I whispered. But I needn’t have worried. He didn’t look up when we walked past him.
“Mo? He’s been sniffing glue,” Alexis replied, matter-of-factly.
I turned back to look at the boy, horrified.
Marty made a face. “Quentin hates people doing it. That’s why Mo isn’t allowed to sniff in our quarters, but some kids just can’t live without it. So they do it here.”
“Who’s Quentin?” Joshua asked, pulling me along. I couldn’t stop staring at the boy. He was younger than Bobby.
Alexis hesitated a moment before replying, like she was reluctant about every piece of information that she had to give up. “He’s our leader.”
As we turned another corner we arrived in what looked like a long chamber. Shelves and mismatched furniture lined the walls. Sofas and arm chairs filled the middle. More than two dozens kids, some my age, some as young as Mo sat around and talked. They looked up, their eyes following us. I stuffed the camcorder back into my bag, suddenly self-conscious.
A guy rose from a chair in the back of the room. He, like almost everyone, had his hair cropped short. I suddenly realized that Alexis and I were the only ones with long hair. The guy walked toward us. A scar ran across his forehead, his eyebrow and his cheek.
He looked at us like we were an alien species. “Where did you find them?”
“Near —” Alexis began, but Joshua interrupted. “We’ve just crossed the fence. We’re looking for the labs.”
“Crossed the fence?” Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “We’re looking for orphans on the run from the military. Not people from the Void. How did you even get past the fence?”
His eyes seemed to bore holes in my skull but I held his gaze. “A tunnel,” I replied. Something in his expression changed. He’d heard of the tunnel before.
“The tunnel,” he said slowly, recognition in his face.
A crowd had gathered around us, hanging on our words.
“They’re looking for someone, too,” Alexis jumped in. A look passed between them and Quentin relaxed.
“I’m
“And they’re everywhere,” Marty added.
I took a step toward Joshua. I’d never been fond of spiders, no matter the size. Before us the drain turned. Cockroaches scuttled away as we approached. We rounded the bend and the tunnel narrowed. There were only a few inches left between my head and the dingy ceiling. Joshua and Tyler had to duck.
“This part of the drainage is only about 5 and a half feet high,” Marty explained in a quiet voice as I filmed. “But some parts are even lower. Did you know that there are over 300 miles of drains below Vegas?” His eyes met mine. He reminded me of a puppy looking for approval from its owner.
I shook my head. “What did they use them for?”
His face lit up at the prospect of telling me more. “After heavy rainfall in the area, the water was guided through the drains, so it wouldn’t flood the city. But don’t worry. It hasn’t rained in a while.”
“But sometimes the factories sent down their polluted water,” Alexis added. “A few kids have got killed that way.”
We carried on, eventually having to keep to the sides as we balanced along the edge of a ditch about a metre deep. A shallow rivulet trickled through the middle, carrying with it the stink of wet cloth and garbage, and again a hint of sulphur. But I couldn’t shield my face; I needed my arms to balance and hold the camera.
Eventually the drain widened and a voice carried over to us. This part was dry and it was a relief to be able to walk in the middle since it was even. Dim light came from bulbs attached to the ceiling. Marty cast the beam of light on the head of a dirty teddy bear leaning against the moldy wall. A boy sat beside it. He couldn’t have been older than twelve, but he looked completely out of it.
“What’s he doing?” I whispered. But I needn’t have worried. He didn’t look up when we walked past him.
“Mo? He’s been sniffing glue,” Alexis replied, matter-of-factly.
I turned back to look at the boy, horrified.
Marty made a face. “Quentin hates people doing it. That’s why Mo isn’t allowed to sniff in our quarters, but some kids just can’t live without it. So they do it here.”
“Who’s Quentin?” Joshua asked, pulling me along. I couldn’t stop staring at the boy. He was younger than Bobby.
Alexis hesitated a moment before replying, like she was reluctant about every piece of information that she had to give up. “He’s our leader.”
As we turned another corner we arrived in what looked like a long chamber. Shelves and mismatched furniture lined the walls. Sofas and arm chairs filled the middle. More than two dozens kids, some my age, some as young as Mo sat around and talked. They looked up, their eyes following us. I stuffed the camcorder back into my bag, suddenly self-conscious.
A guy rose from a chair in the back of the room. He, like almost everyone, had his hair cropped short. I suddenly realized that Alexis and I were the only ones with long hair. The guy walked toward us. A scar ran across his forehead, his eyebrow and his cheek.
He looked at us like we were an alien species. “Where did you find them?”
“Near —” Alexis began, but Joshua interrupted. “We’ve just crossed the fence. We’re looking for the labs.”
“Crossed the fence?” Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “We’re looking for orphans on the run from the military. Not people from the Void. How did you even get past the fence?”
His eyes seemed to bore holes in my skull but I held his gaze. “A tunnel,” I replied. Something in his expression changed. He’d heard of the tunnel before.
“The tunnel,” he said slowly, recognition in his face.
A crowd had gathered around us, hanging on our words.
“They’re looking for someone, too,” Alexis jumped in. A look passed between them and Quentin relaxed.
“I’m
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