Story
Bridget twirled her hair through her fingers, her attention idly drifting somewhere else as the teacher droned on...
"In 2078, four years after The Great War began, the United States fell. The economy melted down, international trade stopped, and then the bombs were dropped." The young Undergrounder snuck a piece of sugary candy between her lips, careful to not get caught. Behind her, her friend Abigail stuck her hand out for a piece from Bridget's stash...a begrudging gift.
"In 2084, the human race finally split: after years of conflict and countless casualties, we Undergrounders tunneled the first safe haven. We are only a few hour's travel from this faitful first city, New Hope! Yes, that's where they make the jewelry that we sell. This year marks the 309th anniversary of the Great Descent, and as you can plainly see, we are thriving. The new census is in, our numbers have grown to just over a hundred thousand people!"
This part was a bit shocking, actually. Everyone had been saying that Bridget wouldn't see over a hundred thousand undergrounders in her lifetime, but here...it's happened! She smiled just a little, trying to hide her embarrassing pride even though she knew the others around her must be feeling it too.
"As we speak, however..." the teacher continued, "on the surface, people are still toiling away and dying. We are watching them, and the latest intelligence is that these barbarians, the Sufacers, are beginning a new war." Jeffery, another close friend, piped in from beside her with "They can't keep themselves entertained enough by bashing each other's skulls in." Bridget laughed along with the rest of the class, but the teacher wanted to pound home the seriousness of the issue. "Jeffery, you are partly right. These people are to be feared; we should learn from their stupidity and remember to try our best to get along and do what must be done for the sanct-"
Above her head, a loud set of thuds rang from the higher school floors. This was the signal to change classes...Bridget thankfully gathered her books and felt her way around the pitch-dark classroom. Her eyes, well adjusted to the pitch blackness of the smooth stone walls, easily guided her down the dimly illuminated walls of the hallway. Rooms were not lit, but hallways were; lit by faint chemical glow wands that had to be replaced every two days.
She was lucky, in a way, to attend primary college a year young; her father was able to pull some Mayoral strings to get her into all the political classes a bit early so that she could take the reins should something unthinkable happen. Being around all the boys though...it made Bridget uncomfortable. Just like Sufacers, they were alien creatures to be feared...except for him. He'd always just be one of the girls as far as Bridget was concerned.
At the end of the day, Bridget walked out of the large school tunnel and made her way downtown to the common walkways. Large miles-high spaces bustling with people met her with the sights and smells that could only be in a large city. Excited voices and the rattling of carts bounced off the high ceilings and walls, creating an all-enveloping energy. Street vendors marketed their wares, ranging from textiles from hundreds of miles away to salvaged parts from right here in Messa, her hometown. Every city had it's specialty, but international trading was uninterrupted and valued here. Children in Elementary school walked in an orderly single-file line, glow wands in hand and training glasses perched on their face with little green eye circles. Children who hadn't yet gotten their vision were given these glasses to aid them; it took Bridget until her 10th birthday before she could take the darned things off. Some people never grew out of them! A large Salamander brushed against Bridget's ankle, a pack brimming with bread on it's back. She recognized the tired old lizard as belonging to one of her father's friends, a man who owned a modest bakery built into the walls of the city downtown where the traffic died down a bit. Inside of her bra, her own Salamander poked her head out from over her dress before slithering out into her hair. Sally wasn't very large yet, only the size of her two index fingers from end to end, but someday she'd be as large as Mr. Bakers.
"Bridget!" With a jump, she turned around to the familiar call. Jeffery came jogging up to her while clutching his own salamander who was trying fervently to get away. While Bridget's Sally was a Poison sub-species of the amphibian, Jeffery's was the much more useful Illuminating classification. They, both being mayor's children of neighboring towns, received their salamanders at the same time in between their two birthdays. It actually upset Bridget quite a bit as she had to wait a whole two months later than she should have to get Sally, just waiting on "booger-breath" as she called him at that age. She never really forgave him for that.
"I'll walk us home. Sam's been feeling a little antsy lately so I'm going to let him light the way a bit."
"You know you really shouldn't do that..."
"It's harmless." Jeffery flashed his brilliant, straight-toothed smile. Bridget's heart leapt at the realization she were actually going to marry this boy someday...
"If you say so, but if we get caught you're taking the fall."
"Of course. Now, m'lady, shall we be on our way?" He motioned to one of the sub-tunnels that lead to the residential area of town, a notoriously dark and boring stone walkway. The dark wasn't scary, of course, if anything it was a comfort; but light was a special treat shared between those without Illuminating Salamanders only a few times in a lifetime. Times like...the night after your wedding, the birth of your children...that kind of stuff. Stuff that you needed to see in such clarity that it'd never leave your eyes as you closed them at night. People with these rare salamanders weren't really supposed to take advantage of the free smokeless light, but they all did. Jeffery included.
"You've been quiet all today. Not that this is a bad thing..." Jeffery stifled a laugh, his salamander happily Bioluminating the way with the projection from his head. The sudden light made Bridget squint, the soft yellow glow casting uncomfortable shadows and shocking clarity of each and every stone layered by masons hundreds of years ago. "You usually won't clam up."
"Can it!" Bridget laughed, intertwining her arms with his against the cool, damp air. "As if. You never shut it! Like that bit about the Surfacers in class..."
"I really meant it!" Jeffery took things very seriously, Bridget rolled her eyes under her lashes at his sudden change in tone. "Those people should just kill each other and get it over with."
"What about the salvaging?" Bridget worked part time for the salvage yard as part of her future mayoral duties - a steadfast rule of leadership down here required that each future mayor must work one rotation of each jobset...including the Scavanging Team.
"If they were cut out we'd get all their loot." He said cooly, scooping up his now pooped-out salamander.
The rest of the walk was made in silence, each of the teens absorbing each other's company. The darkness is so complete and overwhelming right after being introduced to light; the two of them stuck their hands in front of their bodies even though the way home was branded clearly in their bodies. It took a few seconds for the darkness to slip back away to black and white vision. Finally, the tunnel branched off, and the slight foot traffic that had been following them around finally fell away.
"I'll catch you later doll." Jeffery ducked down his tunnel, leaving Bridget no time to react to his flattery. Her mind was on boys, makeup, a new dress she spied in the shops before school that morning, and her work. These were her days, such a beautiful and safe life.
So predictable.
Bridget clocked out of work at midnight that night, popping into her home for just a moment to ensure that her father's thunderous snoring sounded. He was fast asleep, guaranteeing her at least 8 hours of un-interrupted "scavaging". Her co-workers were impressed with her zeal, when her father begrudgingly served his year, he was terrified of the surface, so the story goes. A future mayor was supposed to despise the 10 years of service, but Bridget thrived on it...especially any service that required her to walk along the surface.
Half an hour later, Bridget had popped out of the complex tunnels which concealed an emergency exit inside of a cave. She had been here many times in the past, each time venturing further and further into the night...she was a mere mile or so away from some small village which she frequented. In the sky, it was as if the roof of one of the common areas were just...lifted off. Space that felt unimaginable filled her chest up here; this world without walls. The wind outside scared Bridget at first, she had never really read about something so trivial as wind. Living underground, however, wind was totally new to her just a few months ago. Here, the wind was always blowing, kicking around dust and sand, ripping harshly at the hem of her chery-print sundress. The smells up here were different too. Something sharp and offensive was always wafting around, like when the trash collectors came by every week to bring the refuse down to the compost level. Now that might be a job service Bridget might dread. Everything had to be recycled underground, every single bit. Waste became fungus, fungus became food, food becomes waste and it all gets repeated.
It wasn't like that here, though, thought Bridget as she slipped a jagged piece of metal in her satchel. Up ahead the first few shacks came into view under the moon; her eyes strained under the bright blue [and strangely artificial seeming] light to make the outlines of the windows and doors. No lights were flickering in the sad huts, everyone was [as always] asleep.
Expertly, Bridget slipped inside the back door of a family home she'd come to know pretty well. It was her first ever home on the surface that she'd ever entered...a mother and a young son was inside. The father was never there. The little boy had sleepily said a few words to her...things like 'ghost' and 'white' but she couldn't quite understand him before he drifted away again. Tonight, Bridget's target would be a strange contraption sitting next to the doorway that she'd had her eye on...a leather sling of some sort. It could be useful for carrying tools back under.
Several ramshackle houses later, and with the threat of dawn only a few hours away, Bridget quickly made her retreat with her full satchel back to her cave. She touched the reassuring surface of the stone door, smiling at the old symbol in the bottom left hand corner of a triangle. This triangle signaled to those who understood it that this was a direct passage to New Hope, should you need it.
"Lucky for you Ms. Cherries - you hit the jackpot...." A deep voice growled just behind her, so close that her ear tickled with his breath. Turning around in terror, Bridget stared at the man who had apparently been following her.
"...So here is your prize." The man motioned at his body, his hands gesturing specifically around his...legs?
"Ohshit!" The words tumbled out of Bridget's mouth as she panicked, her satchel sliding off her shoulder and hitting the ground with a clatter as all of her hard-earned possessions rolled around in the dust. Her mind raced as she looked from the door of her cave, back to the man who was still evidently so self-absorbed that he hadn't stopped smiling suggestively with such gusto that his eyes were barely parted with the force of his grin. Desperately, Bridget hesitated for a second before scrambling around the cave, hoping to lose him and then duck inside...just as she thought she were gaining distance from him, she ran nearly into his open arms.
He reached forward and clung tightly, his shoulder muffling her shrill protests. "Now now honey, don't go running off before we make some introductions! Looks like we've got ourself a sexy little theif running around at night, creeping into peoples houses and taking all their shit. That's a shame, isn't it?"
This is it. This is the moment that Jeffery, her father, and every teacher since age 4 had been warning her about. This Surfacer was now going to rip into her skin and gnaw on her bones, his food-deprived craze insatiable. Images of her fingers dissappearing down this crazy man's throat threw Bridget into a frenzy as she struggled to break free...after two minutes the weak little Undergrounder had fought enough and finally relaxed to submit to whatever terrible fate he had planned for her.
"There there, I don't bite! Not unless...you beg for it." The man held Bridget out at arm's length, looking her up and down. It was clear he was sizing her up to see how much meat she could yield, how much money he could get from her on his...his...crazy cannibal markets.
Mustering up what little strength she had in her throat, she squeaked "Beat it."
The man looked confused for a second, but soon opened up with another half-smile. "I already have twice today, man. Calm yo tits bitch and let's get your name."
W-w-w-w-wHAT? Bridget could feel the blood boiling in her stomach as an angry blush spread quickly over her pale face, neck and chest. "Let. Me. Go." she finally demanded, a new feeling of anger and embarrassment replacing her shock.
He was a Surfacer alright...his head had strips of hair missing, and what hair he DID have left was sticking out at all angles like a salamander had been sucking on it all night. Every ounce of exposed skin was caked in mud and filth and god knows what, his eyebrow interrupted with a thick scar. He even had an odor about him...something...sharp and offensive. His clothes were made of a black material that Bridget had never seen before...thick and durable, covered in patches and metal studs. Around his back he had some kind of weapon strapped to him...in fact...
Bridget stepped back a little bit further once she realized exactly how many weapons he was packing. What was he? This was the first Surfacer she had ever seen awake, and even if he was about to eat her or whatever, she was instantly fascinated. Fascinated and somewhat disgusted. In the distance, an excruciatingly bright pink light was beginning to bathe the land around her. Shadows became elongated and everything was beginning to become painfully brightly tinted...the sun might be rising soon. She couldn't be outside for that.
"Uh...uh." She was still at a loss for words, but the stranger's cocky smirk brought them crashing back with a sassyness she didn't know she possessed. "Look I don't have time for this right now, so why don't you just get bent?"
"Tha fuck?"
His language took her aback for a second before she shot back with "MOVE" before barreling past him to collect her fallen scrap. As she reached down to pick up her most prized find, a carburetor, the stranger seized the opportunity to speed ahead of her and snatch it away. With a grin, he held it high above her head...and Bridget's blood boiled.
"Give. Me. That. Back!" She demanded, the blood in her cheeks flushing her a further shade of angry red. His rude chuckle at her desperation to retrieve the part and escape the light was all it took to push her over the edge. At the edge of her rope, and the twilight rising sun nearly blinding her, Bridget made her first mistake: and opened the sanctuary cave, hauling the stranger in behind her. The pair tumbled in, and almost instantly Bridget realized what she had done. Now angry, frustrated, confused and embarrassed, Bridget opened up the gates to hell in a string of rude cursing and screaming. The stranger sat back, his amusement seeming to grow.
"Wow, such words from a pretty little dirt diver."
Bridget shut her lips tight, now completely spent, and let her arms hang at her sides. How did he even know where she was from? Surfacers shouldn't know about Undergrounders at all. Before she could respond, the stinky man unfurled a paper map and carefully measured out a length of distance with his thumb.
"Alright well, listen. I'm a business man, and I've got places to be." Bridget raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in demeanor, like he suddenly became bored with his new toy. "Do you want a service or what?"
"A service?"
"Yeah, an armored escort from place to place, spare parts, information. I'm a broker, I guess."
Bridget was instantly interested, and she cursed under her breath at the obviousness of her sudden facial change that the sharp-talking man picked up on. He knew she was already hooked.
"Well? I got shit to do. What you need, sugar?"
"Don't call me that." Bridget snapped, already thinking about the wonderful things she wanted to know about the surface, all the parts they needed for furnaces and support beams. "I might want to be escorted around...and I need spare parts. Don't you mind what for."
"I don't care what for. Kay, but it'll cost you...I might give you a first customer's discount though." Bridget's skin crawled at the look he gave her...it was strange and invading. Now that they were in the dark, Bridget was able to get a better look at him...he definitely looked rough. The scars and strong, square jawline made him look like something out of a picture book...completely foreign and exotic. Is this how all the men were up here?
"Um...okay. How much?" She puffed out her chest and raised her head, trying to look more imposing like her father did when he haggled. How many stone? Probably twenty stone for a good tour underground, so maybe double that up here?
"I'm thinking two hours for you. If you have a couple of friends I can make it just one hour for a group discount." Without warning, the stranger closed the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arm around the small of her waist and pulling her close. She was so taken aback by the brashness that she didn't even argue for a moment. Shock set in.
"How about it, babe?" The man sank down closer to her face, his unkempt teeth poking through a broad grin. Hear heart skipped a beat...no man had ever acted like this to her. To anyone that she's ever known, actually, now that she thought about it. Up close, those scars [and even...is that a fresh cut...?] looked even more interested and intriguing. After a moment of composing herself, she shoved him away and stepped back, her eyes wide and mouth agape.
"I...I....I think we're talking about two fairly different forms of payment, sir."
The man just laughed, stepping back a few feet with his hands in front of him as if to apologize. That grin wasn't matching his apology at all. "Okay, okay I get you. Got your reasons. Money will work then...money or smokes."
"How many stone?" Bridget sighed happily, finally glad to get down to brass tax.
"Stone?"
"Yeah, stone. How many stone?"
"Bitch I don't mean play money. I mean cash, coins. I want coins."
"Coins...?" Didn't they stop using coins hundreds of years ago? It's barbaric. Those metals can be used for - oh, wait a second. The realization washed of Bridget at the same time as it did the stranger.
"Yeah, looks like you can pay in sex or smokes. You pick."
Bridget jumped at the brazen word being thrown around, but at this point she was getting a little more used to it. "Well, smokes it is." she shot back. Now, smokes...what kind of...smokes? Bridget dug around in her scavenging pack [most of which had been emptied outside] and fished out three and a half crumpled cigarettes. "How far will this get me?"
"Half way around this rock for a good time. I don't go nowhere for those cheap ass things." Bridget hated herself for giggling at the look on his face.
"Okay...uh...I don't know if you'll like these gross things but...maybe...?" Bridget then stuck her hand inside of her hipbag, pulling out a cigar from the pack she bought for her father on her way home. They were technically 'Fine Tobacco Cigars', but so few people smoked underneath that they were a dime a dozen. He surely didn't want-
"Hott damn!" With a rough grasp, he wrapped his calloused fingers around her wrist to take a sniff, just like her father typically did. "Where'd you get this?"
Leverage! Finally! With a sly smile, Bridget pulled her hand away and hid the cigar playfully behind her back. "That's for me to know and you to find out. It wasn't easy to get! Now, where will this get me?"
He contemplated it for a second, and seemed almost put off by the fact she could pay him for his time. Did he expect to just goof off then leave? "I guess I could take you around my rounds for that." He finally said, scratching a scab on his chin.
"I'll take that tour tomorrow, pal." Bridget agreed, slipping the cigar back in her pack. "That, and I want your name."
"Names are pretty useless around here don't you think, la-"
"I'll take your name now, the tour later. Then I'll pay you."
"Pay me up front."
"I don't pay upfront to surf-" Bridget covered the slip of her tongue with a cough. "-to business men."
The man sighed, looking at Bridget, taking his time to glance up and down her body in a way that made her feel all around weird but not uncomfortable anymore. She almost liked it. He licked his lips and stepped closer, about to reach for her pack in his shark-like sharpness, just to be stopped by a wary Bridget.
"Well? Name!" Bridget demanded, not letting go of his wrist this time.
"Gabe."
Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, Anne of Great Britain, and now Bridget De Lange. Some would say these silly little women began the wars that shaped the horrible, bloody paths of history. Would you like to know the story about the stupid little Undergrounder who trusted the wrong man? Maybe it's best if some things are never written.
