Dirty Work

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"You look ridiculous," Alex said to Ren.

They had just dropped through a drain in the floor of the Met's subbasement and were in an old sewer tunnel. Ren had rubber boots on her feet, a mask on her face, and a white plastic suit everywhere else. The suit was way too big for her, so the sleeves and legs were bunched up with thick rubber bands. All of the gear had come from Todtman, courtesy of a trip to the Home Depot on Fifty-Ninth.

"I guess sewer suits don't come in petite sizes," she said, swinging a large flashlight back and forth in front of her. The beam lit a stream of dark, soup-thick water passing by below them. The masks were designed to filter out things like fiberglass insulation and cement dust, but did little for the smell.

"I think these suits are supposed to be for painting," said Alex.

"This place could use a good paint job," said Ren as she swung her flashlight across the moldy, filth-caked top of the old sewer tunnel.

"How did you know this connected to the museum, anyway?" said Alex.

"My dad mentioned it once: 'drainage subbasement.' I'd been thinking about how the two of them managed to just disappear. How could the Stung Man have outrun Todtman? Plus there were guards at all the exits, because of the blackout. They couldn't just magically disappear — I think — so, where could they have gone?" She swung her flashlight around again. "No guards here."

Alex managed a nervous laugh. He was at least as scared as he was grossed out, and the chatter helped. Remember why you're here, he told himself. Remember the mission. If Al-Dab'u and the Stung Man really exited this way, then they needed to figure out where they went. He fingered his amulet to calm his nerves a little.

Ren was holding her flashlight in her left hand and wielding a small crowbar in her right. He wasn't sure how much good that would do ...

Alex swept his flashlight in front of him and tried to find a clear spot to put his foot down. They were walking along a thin ledge, just above the slow-flowing sludge. He stopped for a moment to check their printout of the Upper East Side sewer system with the flashlight.

"We are totally doing Todtman's dirty work," said Ren.

"I'm not sure I'd want to be him at the museum today, either," said Alex.

"This is still tougher," said Ren, stomping her boot down in the muck to make her point. "Not many people could do this."

Alex didn't disagree with either statement, but he didn't really see where she was going with it. "Okay," he said.

"Like, do you think Jesse could do this?"

"Jesse Blatz?"

"Yeah, just for example."

"You need to get over that kid. You're just as smart as him."

"I'm maybe sixty percent as smart as him," she said and whacked at the air with her crowbar. "Just answer the question."

"Do I think he could do this?"

"Yeah."

"Walk through toilet water? Probably."

"I don't mean that. I mean, I don't know, get chased by a mummy and then chase it back."

"Then, no. I don't think he could do this."

Ren's white mask bobbed up and down in an emphatic nod. "I don't, either."

Alex took a few more steps through the turgid muck. "He's too smart to."

They both chuckled. It echoed slightly in the tunnel and they nervously swung their flashlights from side to side in the darkness.

The ledge narrowed and Alex gave up on it and stepped off so he was up to his ankles in a slowly flowing, stew-thick stream. They trudged on quietly for a while. It was quiet except for the squelching of their feet. It was horrible down here, but it was just the two of them — at least he hoped it was. He felt like he could say anything. And hadn't Ren just done that?

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