The rain that had been threatening all day finally began in a steady drizzle. People on the busy New York streets ignored the light precipitation, though distant flashes in the night sky indicated the worst was yet to come. It took a while for the drizzle to soak the ground. When it did, the water began a slow, steady trickle into the storm drains…

The sewers were surprisingly dry for that time of year. One tunnel near the surface had a mess of glowing green ooze on its floor. Week-old tracks of some turtles and a solitary rat led from it where, in a normal year, the ooze might have been washed away by now. The rainwater dripped down the drains and began its flow down the dry sewer - lifting the ooze and taking it along with the flow.

A young turtle, only a few months out of the egg, ambled down the dark sewer. It was unclear when the first few box turtles had managed to fall through the storm drains years ago, but since then a small population had managed to flourish. The little terrapin stopped to bite at a morsel that smelled like food. His eyes blinked hard several times and he quickly abandoned the effort. As he continued his travels, a shallow flow of water appeared behind him and pushed him forward. Being such a small turtle, the water continued to pull him as it flowed.

But was it water? It smelled strange. And it certainly felt strange - his scaled skin tingled at its touch. Desperately, the little brown turtle scrabbled at the floor as it passed beneath him. He wanted to escape this odd water.

Above ground, a bright flash and thunderous crack heralded the approach of a severe thunderstorm. Raindrops the size of cherries fell in a torrent. People walking on the sidewalks ran for cover; cars on the streets turned their windshield wipers to the highest setting.

The water running down the sewers soon reflected this change. The little turtle found that his feet no longer touched bottom when he kicked and struggled. Before long, his small pipe joined with a much larger one. He fell over a small ledge and found himself in a raging torrent fed by many small pipes. At speeds he had never experienced, he was whisked down the large tunnel. Yet his mind was almost too simple for fear - he only knew that he wanted to get back on firm ground… and that the mysterious burning on his skin had finally stopped. What he didn't know was the source of his discomfort had been diluted beyond the point of effectiveness.

A slight dip sent him underwater for two or three seconds; the pipe he was in had joined an even larger one. Now the flow went much faster. The young turtle kicked madly with his little legs, trying to get out of the current and over to the side. He was barely moving except for forward with the flow, but he tirelessly kept at it. Suddenly, he was sent spinning. He'd escaped the main current and was washed into a short, dead-end tunnel. The water calmed rapidly, and the little turtle was able to swim until he could finally touch the floor. The ground was covered in garbage, and a storm drain leading to the outside was fixed in the wall above. There was plenty to eat among the garbage, which was lucky; the water only flowed into this tunnel and would be too difficult to swim against.

The little terrapin lived in the dead-end tunnel for several months. The garbage that was constantly being chucked down the storm drain was the result of nearby snack vendors on street level, as well as the apparent unavailability of trash cans. Therefore, the turtle was always fed. As time went on, he became more aware of his surroundings. He even started trying to imitate snatches of sounds he heard from the creatures who lived above.

He had no idea that he had become different until one of his own kind appeared in his tunnel. He recognized the creature and could tell by its markings that it was quite an old turtle. And yet… he picked it up and inspected it. It was much smaller than he, and its arms and legs were shaped very differently. He tried to talk to it, using sounds he'd learned from the world above the storm drain. It acted as if he wasn't there. When he touched it, it hid from him! The young turtle was confused and lost. What had he become then, if he wasn't the creature he'd been born as?

His stomach growled. For the past week or so, the food thrown down the storm drain had not been enough for him and his healthy appetite. He knew that to survive, he'd have to find a better place. The turtle stood and carried his cousin to the end of the tunnel. He set it in the water, curiously gazing at his own legs after it'd swum away. The water only came to his knee nowadays; he remembered it being much deeper… Putting this out of his mind, the young terrapin began splashing down the larger tunnel.

A hole in the ceiling intrigued him, and he figured out how to use the ladder within five minutes. As his head popped above street level, the man who had been just about to climb down the manhole jumped back. "Augh! Look, guys - a slimy freak!"

Another man standing nearby elbowed a third worker. "See what I mean? Told y'all the sewers were gonna be the government's new nuclear waste dump. We'll all be dead or look like that in a coupla years…"

The turtle, perplexed, climbed out of the hole and began making sounds he'd heard the snack vendors use to calm angry clients. "What if I give ya a partial refund? I'll give ya another f'r free… How 'bout a soda? On the house."

But far from calming the workman, it only seemed to excite him more. "He's talking complete nonsense - crazy as they come! Quick, hand me that sledgehammer…"

The young shellback decided that the odd creatures must be afraid of him, and he ran wobbly into an alley. Once there, he stretched his legs a bit. They were unused to strain after his life in a small tunnel, but he needed them. He looked around, unsure of what to do. Where would he go? Where could he find food?

He took a deep breath. Slowly he became aware of a smell in the air that his turtle instincts were labeling as "food." Fine. He'd just follow that…

The brown turtle spent the rest of the afternoon going from hiding place to hiding place. He quickly learned not to be seen after someone took a few swings at him in the street. As he ran, he realized something strange. Before he'd been trapped in that sewer tunnel months ago, he'd always had to take long rests after any sort of physical exertion. But now, he was able to keep running…and running! When he did so for long periods of time, he became hot inside and his skin was inexplicably wet. What had happened to him? He'd been born a turtle but was now halfway between turtle and something like these odd creatures that roamed the surface! After all, he had a similar build to theirs - his limbs were nearly the same shape - but he still carried a shell on his back! A shell which he found could no longer hide him when he was in peril.

At long last, his senses led him to an enormous body of water, which he managed to spot about a quarter mile before he got there. After a half hour of alley-weaving, he set foot on a dock for the first time and surveyed New York Harbor by the light of the setting sun. The water appeared chock-full of swimming creatures that should do nicely for food. Upon further inspection, the turtle found that it was no good for drinking, but this didn't worry him. During his travels that day he'd managed to locate several nearby sources of fresh water. And as he paced across and studied the dock, he could already see how he could build himself a secret home in the air pocket underneath. It looked as if he'd found the right place for himself.

END PROLOGUE