Spun

Chapter 5

"No... I'm not going down there."

I rub Harold's arm and smile. "It will be fine. Nothing bad will happen."

"You cannot guarantee that."

Emilee sighs. "We don't have any other choice, Harold."

"Well then, we will just have to wait."

I'm losing patience with Harold. I know trekking through sewers isn't the most exciting idea, but right now there's no other option.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No..." Harold groans.

Mateo puts his hands on Harold's shoulders, and stares deep into his eyes. "I know it's scary, but I'll be there the whole time. I won't let anything happen to you."

Somehow, Mateo's guesture makes something click for Harold. His face releases its tension, and he lets out a defeated sigh.

"Alright."

I prop up the drain cover. "We need to move fast, before one of the pharmacists sees us. I'll go first."

I start to climb down the ladder inside the drain.
Emilee follows me down the shaft. Harold climbs down after her. Finally, Mateo joins us. Using our phones to light our way, we start to travel through the tunnel. The numbers of the streets overhead are painted inside the tunnels, making it easy to keep track of where we ar.

Dripping water echos through the pipe rhythmically. Our feet splash through stray puddles, adding to the liquid symphony. My nerves begin to tingle. There's something exciting about walking around down here. It's an adventure.

A strange noise erupts from the darkness. I stop dead in my tracks, as fear crystallizes in my chest. We train our lights on the source of the sound... And find a tawny tabby cat.

Whew...

"Hey kitty..." Mateo says. He leans forward to pick it up. Something yanks the cat from behind, into the darkness. It makes a sharp screech, then goes silent. Its sound is replaced by a disturbing cracking noise.

"What in the world?" Mateo says. He steps forward before I can give a warning. His light shines on a hideous rat the size of a small dog. It's fur is sparse, probably riddled with mange. The rat's muzzle is covered with blood and fur. The cat's corpse is mangled savagely. And that sound... The cracking... It's coming from the munching of the cat's bones.

The rat roars at us. Yes, that's right... Roars. Mateo kicks it, and the rat sails away into the darkness. It lands with a thud, setting off a chorus of snarls.

"We need to go. There's more of them." I say. Harold, who already looked disturbed, now is deathly pale.

I grab his arm and start to run. Emilee and Mateo follow behind. I take short, quick breaths, as the feral growls chase us. Cool water splashes the legs of my jeans as we race through the tunnel. Harold struggles to stay on his feet, and I can't blame him. I'm running at almost full tilt.

I use my phone's flashlight to search the sides of the pipe for an access shaft. Earlier I saw two. But now that we need one, there aren't any around. I hate F.A.T.E. Maybe this was all just a ploy of F.A.T.E., a way to manuever the four of us into the perfect situation to kill us.

Mateo yells suddenly. I whip my head around. He's tripped on something, and is sprawled face down on the metal floor. His dropped phone illuminates the faces of dozens of bloodthirsty rodents zoning in on their kill. I can get to him though. He still might die, but I can't leave him. I really hate F.A.T.E.