Everland(20)

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, turning back to Pete, unable to see him in the darkness. “You have been in here before, haven’t you?”

“Oh brother,” Bella says. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not afraid of the dark.”

“No, I’m not afraid of the dark,” I say, annoyed by the insinuation.

“Knock it off, Bella,” Pete scolds. He strikes a match along the rocks. In the dim light, he reaches for a lantern on a ledge chipped into the wall. Pete lights the lamp, casting the tunnel in a golden radiance. “I don’t think they saw us.”

“Of course they didn’t,” Bella says. “Come on, kid. Let me show you around.” She reaches inside her satchel and pulls out a handful of gold dust, handing it to my brother. “Here. Leave a trail for your sister so she doesn’t get lost. She doesn’t seem too bright,” Bella whispers within earshot of me. She pulls Mikey by the hand and together they skip ahead, uninhibited by the inky blackness as Mikey scatters a trail of gold in front of him.

I take in the tunnels around me. Unlit lanterns hang from the ceiling from tarnished pipes that fizzle, steam escaping from the joints.

“Don’t worry.” Pete takes my hand and guides me along the descending tracks, leading with a lantern tightly gripped in his hand. The light casts eerie shadows on the broken walls. Bugs scurry ahead of the lamp, a few crunching beneath my feet like the sound of broken glass. Eventually, we catch up with Mikey and Bella, who are chattering endlessly about the boys of the Lost City.

“I can’t wait to not be a Little anymore,” she says, skipping pebbles along the tracks. “The Biggers get privileges the Littles don’t get.”

“Like what?” Mikey asks.

“Dessert, a whole minute longer in the shower, and Pete lets the Biggers stay up an hour after the Littles go to bed for an evening nightcap,” Bella says.

“Dessert! I want to be a Bigger,” Mikey replies in wonder. I can’t blame him. It’s been so long since we’ve had anything sweet, even a single bite of dessert would be heavenly.

As we continue descending, hand-drawn caricatures adorn the cracked concrete surfaces, reminding me of hieroglyphics. Stick figures with dark masks and military gear crowd together as smaller characters throw stones at them.

“What is this?” I ask, running my hand along the drawings.

Pete stops suddenly. “Shh,” he says, holding a hand up.

I listen but hear nothing. A bullet rockets from the pitch-black tunnel in front of us, ricochets off the wall to our right, and barely misses Bella as she hops out of the way. A small rock whizzes past my head and I duck.

“Hey!” Bella shouts. “Watch where you’re aiming those things!”

“Who’s there?” a boy’s deep voice says from the darkness. “Identify yourselves!”

“Whoa! Who gave you clearance to guard this tunnel?” Pete hollers. “Bobbies are to guard the northern and western tunnels. The eastern and southern tunnels are for the Scavengers only!”

“Pete!” someone says, enthusiasm lacing the tone of his small voice. “It’s Pete!”

“Pete’s back!” yells another young boy’s voice farther down the tunnel.

Murmurings erupt from the passageway as lights rip through the darkness. I shield my face, wincing against the blinding light. A redheaded boy no older than Bella approaches Pete. His freckled face crinkles with uncertainty.

“Hey, Pete,” he says. “Sorry ’bout that. I didn’t know it was you.”

Pete slaps the boy on the back. “No problem, kid. But we gotta work on your aim. You’re lucky we weren’t the Marauders.”

“We’re lucky he has bad aim,” Bella retorts.

Another boy, a teenager with dark eyes, hair, and skin emerges from the shadows wearing a brown jacket adorned with brass buttons. His brow creases in a scowl and he slips his revolver into the holster on his hip. He inhales the butt of a hand-rolled cigarette, tosses it to the ground, and puts the embers out with the toe of his boot. He tilts his head, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling of the cavern.

“Scout, who gave you permission to patrol these tunnels? You could’ve killed someone,” Pete says.

“We received orders to guard all of the tunnels. Marauders have been spotted near every entrance. They’re on the move. I’ve never seen anything like it before,” he says.

“Who gave the order?” Pete asks sternly.

Scout rolls his eyes and snorts. “Who do you think?”

Pete balls both fists and places them on his hips, dropping his chin to his chest and shaking his head. “Jack.”

“Sorry, Pete,” Scout says. “You know how he gets when you’re out scavenging. You might be the leader, but when you aren’t around he makes sure we all know who’s in charge.”

“Leader?” I say, staring at Bella.

“Yep, Pete’s the leader of the Lost Kids,” she says matter-of-factly. “Jack’s been vying for the spot since he arrived. If you ask me, Pete should’ve kicked his bum out to Everland a long time ago.” She scrambles onto a boulder, giving her a bird’s-eye view.

Pete straightens, adjusting his green coat, and spins. “Lost Boys, gather around. We have guests!”