Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
Jonathan wound the tiny generator on the side of his flashlight. The winder caused friction inside the mechanism, charging the battery and pushing electricity through the weak globe.
The light flared. Once. Twice. And a third time with each turn until he had enough momentum to maintain a constant beam.
Jonathan kept walking. And winding. He had to be near the end.
The Metropolis Guard had found his old path from the wastelands of Williamsburg into the shining bronze metropolis. But he had heard of an old tunnel from New Jersey into the north end of the island. No one could say for sure that the Holland Tunnel hadn’t flooded during the first storm. But those who survived had said that it was still there. The entrances sealed with the dead still inside.
The flashlight shone a path through the graveyard of sedans and SUVs, completely rusted with no reference to their once shiny exteriors.
Rumour was that the corrosive mist had found its way into the tunnels. Packed full of cars. The cars packed full of people, there was no way to get out before it ate its way through your skin. There weren’t any bodies to be seen. But there wouldn’t be, not after the fog.
‘Slow down!’ His breathless companion stumbled behind him.
‘You said you could keep up.’
He looked David up and down. He looked like he belonged in the metropolis. His face hadn’t been worn from years of exposure to the mist. His hands didn’t bear the calluses of someone who had worked a day in their life. But he insisted on coming. He insisted on breaking onto the island to find his friend. To find the Clockwork Girl.
David stumbled again, catching himself on a crumbling Mercedes. The tiny badge still standing triumphantly, against the rust.
‘It would be faster without you.’ Jonathan snapped.
‘Except she won’t come with you unless I tell her to.’
‘I’d just carry her.’ He wasn’t lying, he was tall and years of living off the mist ravaged land had made him strong. What could a small girl do to stop him carrying her away?
‘Are we seriously going to argue the difference between rescuing her and kidnapping her?’
He was right.
‘How much further is it?’
Jonathan held up his hand. ‘Shut up!’
‘Don’t ta…’
Jonathan shushed him again.
It was echoing off the tunnel walls. The faint buzz, growing louder.
‘Put your mask on!’ He ordered.
‘But.’ David objected. ‘The tunnel was sealed.’
‘They must have sealed it in.’
The buzzing was growing louder. Jonathan pulled his sleeves down and tucked them over the his thick gloves. He zipped up the dirty grey jacket to his chin, grabbing the mask hanging from his belt, he quickly checked the filter. He hadn’t changed it. He didn’t have any spare. It’ll have to do. He thought to himself and pulled it over his face. Hood up and pulled tight.
The buzzing echoed off every curved wall. It rang in his ears.
He could barely see through the goggles. He looked to David, he was pulling his hood tight.
Jonathan signalled to keep moving.
He sucked in a breath and felt the resistance of the old filter. Struggling to let air pass through, it was clogged from one-too-many uses.
The flashlight was holding strong, but he guessed they’d have another five minutes at most before he had to wind it again.
It hit them. The whirring, buzzing, dirty mist. A swarm of corrosive fog that searched for gaps in his clothes.
Jonathan felt a sharp twinge, where a vein of mist had found its way under his clothes. They couldn’t last long down here.
He grabbed David’s hand. He screamed C’mon! Not that he would be heard through the mask.
The way out had to be beyond the mist. Somewhere not far away.
Jonathan sucked in another breath. The filter barely letting anything through.
They stumbled into cars. The flashlight now doing little more than to show him a few inches into the swill.
They hit a wall at last. Jonathan sucked in another breath, only this time no air came. The mask suction tightened on his face. He didn’t dare breathe out. He didn’t want to break the seal and let the mist get inside the mask.
He frantically ran his hands along the wall, desperate to break out and to rip of his mask.
David’s hands ran past his, in large circles around the wall.
He found it. A large round valve. He tried to turn it. Desperate to breathe again. It didn’t budge.
Jonathan found David’s hand, still searching the wall. He pushed it to the valve. David immediately started to try to turn it. Jonathan joined him.
The both strained until it gave. First a small notch, then an inch, it kept giving, bit by bit. Until, Jonathan heard the distinctive hiss of the hermetic seal. He threw his weight into the door and pushed it and David who was still trying to turn the valve.
Even through the layers of clothes, he felt the cool clean air. Mist free.
Jonathan resisted pulling off his mask to breathe again.
He pushed David into the room and slammed the heavy door before the mist could seep-in. Winding the valve until the seals on the door were tight.
He ripped off his mask and sucked in a deep breath. The air tasted of damp and mould. But he didn’t care.
The flashlight had died. Jonathan’s eyes were adjusting. This room was lighter than the tunnel. There must’ve been an opening up ahead. He was still breathing hard.
Something kicked him. He jumped back and looked down.
David’s mask was still on. His hands wrenching at it to get it off. His filter too full to breathe.
Jonathan found his knife on his belt. He threw himself of David and pulled his hands away from his face. David didn’t understand. He went straight back to the mask. Digging his fingers under the seal.
‘Stop.’ Jonathan ordered calmly.
David’s hands froze, but didn’t move. They clung to the mask.
Jonathan carefully slid the sharp knife under the worn leather strap, slicing it with a sharp tug.
He pushed the mask up and David gasped in. His neck gushing blood where the knife had nipped him.
Still straddling him, Jonathan could feel David’s belly expand with each deep breath.
David sat up, his face falling into Jonathan’s chest, he kept gasping in deep breaths.
They sat like that for a long moment, until both their breathing slowed. The cool are was gentle. A breeze from somewhere nearby breaking-in.
David leaned back and looked up a Jonathan. His skin was still smooth, no scarring from exposure to the mist.
Jonathan leaned down and kissed him. His lips tasted salty with sweat and dehydration. He didn’t care.