Theron was the first to start climbing down the sewer, taking the ladder. He certainly didn't enjoy this, but he was the leader whether he admitted it or not, and that meant doing things nobody in their right mind would choose to do.

The first thing that hit Theron once he started climbing down was the unbearable stench. If the puke was bad, this was abominable. If his tear ducts hadn't been worked to death, he would have cried. It was impossible for him to smell anything else down here. It was practically a Hunter's nightmare.

The ladder itself was rusted. He wouldn't be surprised if it hadn't been replaced since the city's construction. The actual wall he got to stare at while descending was covered with fungi and mushrooms, most of which were of an abnormal size, practically poking him in the face as he climbed.

Did that one move?

While Theron stared at one unblemished white mushroom that seemed to have switched places with an orange-green mushroom, he continued climbing. The stair directly behind him gave out and he started falling toward the river of sewage below, howling as he went.

Falling in was easily the most disgusting thing Theron had ever experienced. It felt like landing on a dirty pile of snow until it dissipated with a bubbly noise. Thankfully, Theron didn't submerge his face and managed to drag himself out in seconds, flailing as he went, clenching and unclenching his fingers to avoid flying into a blind rage. He desperately needed new clothes at this point. Blood, guts, bile, even whiskey staining his clothes was okay. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But actually falling into sewage …

Damn this river to the lowest …

Theron's tirade was interrupted by Rubi falling on top of him. She had missed the same stair, but angled herself toward the ladder so she wouldn't fall in. It was too dark to see where they were, so she was probably glad to have landed on him instead of cold, unforgiving, concrete or the river of sewage her feet were hovering over.

"You okay?" Rubi asked.

Theron grumbled and pushed her off him. She managed to avoid tumbling into the river, luckily. He would never have heard the end of it if he did. Opal and Flavius were both careful as they climbed, reaching the bottom without any incidents.

Theron started shaking himself to get as much waste off as he could, managing to get most of it off without using his claws.

"Why bother? It's not like you can get any smellier," Rubi pointed out, ignoring the death glare Theron gave her.

The sewer was completely dark. The group of survivors turned on the flashlights and wished they hadn't.

The river of waste wasn't brown as expected. Instead, a paper-thin crust of green and yellow that was reminiscent of snot covered the surface. There was a silhouette where Theron had fallen, but the crust seemed stretch on almost as far as the eye could see. The walls were covered in mushrooms and fungi that had thrived and were twice the size of normal mushrooms. There didn't seem to be much blood anywhere, giving credit to the theory that Infected hated sewers. The concrete ledges were narrow, designed for one or two people to walk.

'The Infected hate sewers' theory was proven wrong seconds later as a horde of Infected was heard howling and sloshing through the waste.

"Where are they?" Flavius shouted, waving the Uzi around to spot them with his flashlight. He started firing randomly, giving off enough light to spot the Infected coming straight at them.

"Left or right?" Rubi asked, spraying bullets toward the Infected. They dropped, but two more seemed to appear for every one that died.

"Left," Theron hissed. They were more bodies leading that way, so it was safe to assume somebody had cleared the way.

The group ran left, making sure to stay out of the sewage and walk slowly. The Infected didn't do the same, ultimately becoming slower while their blood gave the crust on the river a red tinge. Theron hurried along, looking back over his shoulder to make sure the Infected weren't close. They were safe for now.

"Check it out!" Rubi pointed to something Theron never thought he would see in a sewer again.

Somebody had actually taken a motorboat into the sewers. Sewer sailing. The newest version of underground street racing, only this one was literally underground. Take motorboats to sewers and race to see who could win without crashing into the wall. Not the most popular of questionable sports, but it made plenty of cash back in the day thanks to an increasing casualty rate and the promise of explosions.

The group jumped on, noting that the boat had no brakes or seatbelts.

Theron took the wheel and revved the engine. It still made a satisfying roar, but there would be time to think about that when they weren't under attack.

How hard can it be? It's just like driving a car, right?

Theron immediately floored the boat. The boat didn't simply buck forward, it rocketed forward. Theron felt the wind slap him into his seat and saw Flavius fly backward into his. Opal and Rubi were holding onto the seats as though their lives depended on it. They probably did.

Theron couldn't hear anything but the roar of the engine and the wind. The rearview mirror indicated that all of his passengers were shouting, but he couldn't hear a word of it.

Then he noticed the wall looming up ahead. It had seemed so far away, but now it was already in front of them. With the second he had left, Theron attempted to steer the boat to the left, hearing the side of the boat slam the wall as it turned just before collision. Opal looked like she was about to get sick, Rubi was grinning from ear to ear and actually excited, and Flavius had already gotten sick all over the side of the boat, holding his stomach and letting drool slide down his chin while blinking very rapidly.

Theron floored the boat again and looked back at the group. Rubi was having the time of her life and holding her nose, Opal looked even more dazed and sick, and Flavius was pressed up against his seat, face turning purple and eyes about to pop out of his head.

He needs to learn to relax. It's only …

Smoker!

A second look confirmed a tongue was around Flavius. It hadn't given out and snapped his neck like a wishbone, but it couldn't be long. Theron let go of the wheel and ran forward, using a claw to slice the tongue. The tongue made an audible pop as it loosened and flew off the boat. Flavius nodded to thank Theron, and then his eyes were terrified yet again.

Theron managed to grab the wheel in time to steer the boat away from an upcoming wall yet again, nearly flying out of his seat as the boat crashed again. Flavius held on to his seat, contemplating whether it was entirely safe to leap out and grab the box.

Theron floored it and made yet another sharp turn, causing the box to perilously slide toward the side of the boat. Flavius ran forward frantically, grabbing the box and cradling it to his chest, cooing and muttering reassurances while the sisters looked around for threats.

The Infected horde behind them was too far away to pose a threat, but the Infected loners up ahead could pose trouble if they dented the boat too badly. Theron continued driving, letting Rubi do the shooting. She seemed a little too enthusiastic, shooting at almost every Infected they passed while Opal clenched her seat and kept an eye on her. Flavius had gotten back to his seat, cursing and holding onto his seat while keeping a hand on the box.

Theron noticed the boat's roaring engine had dropped to more of a growl before stopping seconds later, out of gas. The group quickly made their way up, looking for a way out and finding an exit nearby that was oddly devoid of Infected. Rubi had actually eliminated most of them while the boat sped by, so they could catch their breath. Theron guarded the rear, waiting as they used the ladder. Once they finished, he simply leapt up, not even bothering to face the ladder as he did. He flew out of the manhole and landed roughly, inhaling fresh air. He never thought he would be so happy to have air again. It was something you took for granted until you weren't getting any.

While Flavius and Theron celebrated with a bottle of whiskey, Opal looked for Mercy Hospital, finding it far in the distance. Farther than it had been before. She sighed and made a note to point it out to Theron.

Theron and Flavius had gotten into a drinking contest with what little whiskey hadn't been smashed in the boat ride. Far worse than simply a lack of whiskey, the spilled whiskey had stained most of the magazines. Flavius, fortunately, was too drunk to notice, having drank an entire bottle the moment they emerged. Both of them were trying hard to not to cry, vomit, cough, or do anything that could upset them. Theron simply sat there, shaking and reminding himself not to take it too far while Flavius opened the last bottle and offered it to Theron first as manners dictated.

Theron had already finished a bottle with Flavius and was trying hard to make sure he could grab the bottle with his stiff gloves. The world, as usual, was wobbling back and forth, going in and out of focus, and generally changing angles. He managed to reach out and take the bottle without missing and take a sip before his throat actually hurt too much to consider drinking.

"How about we make this interesting?" Flavius offered, a devilish grin suddenly appearing on his face.

Theron nodded, just as interested.

"How about a game of I Never?" Flavius said. Theron simply shook his face.

I Never?

A drinking game. If you've done what the person says they haven't, you drink.

Good idea?

Considering I'm an amnesiac, no.

My fault?

I'm pretty sure it is. Still, I bet Flavius and Rubi have a few interesting stories.

Before Theron could change his mind, Flavius had already drank the second bottle of whiskey, actually tearing up and vomiting onto one of the last Penthouses he had.

Author's Note: It always struck me as weird that the survivors get into the sewers so willingly. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm the first person to ever use the term 'sewer sailing.' Yay me.