Final Chapter.
They all stood in a semicircle around the dark ingress of the tunnel entrance, all of them thinking something entirely different from one another.
Peter, his thoughts of were he would go, after all of this ended. And if he could take his father with him. Perhaps, at last, they would go home.
Olivia, her thoughts on who was responsible for it all. Why she had been chosen was still unknown to her, unknown to all of them. How many people had died here? Who had built it, thought of it, this structure, this place that was more like hell than anywhere else she had experienced?
Astrid, her thoughts on just what had been lost. She didn't care, really. Whatever had been done to them, Walter was right- it was wrong. The whole place needed to be destroyed, and its secrets with it.
Walter, his thoughts on the maddening scent of something blooming that teased at his senses and fractured memories. He was grasping at anything to keep him from forgetting what he had to do… something that always seemed to allude him, as if just beyond his grasp.
Olivia was the one brave enough to speak first, "This air shaft should lead strait to the surface, right?"
"I don't know," Astrid replied quietly, "I hope so."
"But we don't know how far the climb will be, and this looks pretty narrow as it is- what if it gets too small? We could get lost or stuck," Peter said.
Walter cracked a grin, "Well… then someone will smell us, eventually. You don't have to have a nose like mine for something like that."
No one else seemed to find his sentiment worth comment.
"This place is built very strangely," Astrid said, and gave a small, melancholy snort, "not that this entire affair hasn't been strange. I can't find any way out… it's like it was built to fall into, and hide any way out. This is the only direct route I could find, with the plans we have left."
Rather than replying to a problem that was entirely of his own doing, Walter dropped to all fours, tugging his blindfold onto his forehead to peer into the inky dark, "There's a fan a few meters ahead. I may be able to dismantle it with the wrench," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. He gripped the pipe wrench in his fist and began to scurry into the ingress.
"Whoa, hold on just a damn minute," Peter growled, gripping his father by the back of the trousers and dragging him out again, "You are just way too comfortable being a freak."
"He's right. We need a plan, Walter," Olivia said, and she stuck a lock of hair from her face, crossing her arms across her chest and frowning with thought.
Walter squinted in discomfort and replaced his blindfold, "And just what is there to plan, exactly?"
"He's right, too," Astrid sighed.
"There's got to be something," Olivia said, "some plan, some where. I mean, the first rule of infiltration is knowing where you're going… we can't go in blind. No offense," she added quickly, and Walter frowned.
"I'm not blind," he grumbled.
"And isn't the first rule of escaping to run away?" Peter pointed out.
"And I suppose you've got plenty of experience with running," Olivia smirked.
"I have to keep my girlish figure somehow," Peter replied with a grin.
Astrid only rolled her eyes. She paused, looking around, "Um, Walter…?"
There was a loud clattering from deep within the air vent, and a distant call, "I can't hold this thing forever!"
"So no plan," Olivia frowned.
"The man doesn't have a clue, why in the hell would he have a plan?" Peter muttered, starting for the opening.
xXx
Astrid could remember playing in the rain drains and pipes off the side of the road as a child and where she had grown up, in Jersey. Looking back, it had never been the best idea, as the pipes and such had been terribly dangerous for any number of reasons, but as most children never heeded their parents obligatory warnings (what did adults know?), she had gone with her friends to explore them one day. True to the diminished sense of direction children had, she had become hopelessly lost, and had sat shivering and crying until a policeman had come across her, taking her by the hand and leading her out to her angry and terrified parents.
"Oh, mama," Astrid said under her breath, her eyes shut tightly in the dark, "why can't I ever learn…?"
The tunnel was tall enough to warrant a crouched sort of walk, as if in a combat situation. Her knees were growing sore and painful from the strain, and her legs were trembling in exhaustion. Her fingers, wet with sweat, gripped the back hem of Walter's shirt tightly.
A few yards behind them, Peter and Olivia made slow progress, every now and again calling up for Walter to halt in his navigation. Astrid and Walter would stop and wait for them to catch up, saying nothing and listening to each other.
Once in a while the ceiling would drop down, the narrow flue only big enough to scramble through on one's belly. But slowly, the tunnel would open up again, forking right and left, and Walter would wordlessly choose the path in the dark, no explanation to his actions offered.
Astrid was grateful, her eyes shut as she concentrated solely on breathing.
"Walter!" Olivia called up.
Walter immediately sat, Astrid running into the back of his shoulders. They were damp and trembling. Astrid touched the back of his neck and his hair, and found a seat beside him. She smeared sweat from her brow with her forearm.
"What are you going to do, when you get out?" Walter asked quietly.
Astrid didn't answer for a few moments, "I don't know."
"Do you have… anyone?"
"My mom. Mittens, my cat. The people in my church. What are you going to do?"
Walter, too, was silent. "Fix them," he said at last.
"Fix what?"
"My mistakes. I'm allergic to cats."
Astrid chuckled, "Nice."
There was a soft shuffling, and Astrid could hear the offset breathing of Peter and Olivia as they neared. Astrid tried her best not to flinch away as Olivia's fingers touched the side of her head, "Hey, guys," She said in a weary tone, "Sorry for the hold up, my legs are just killing me."
"Walter, we need to rest," Peter said, "If we get too exhausted, we'll start taking up too much oxygen, and we don't know how much we have in here."
"Alright," Walter replied, and there was a shifting, "I don't know where the hell I'm going anyways," he joked.
xXx
1,564, 1,565, 1566, 1,567...
Something touched her shoulder in the dark, and on instinct she turned her face toward it, "What?" Olivia asked.
"Oh," Peter exclaimed, "Hey. Sorry. Is it your watch?"
"Yeah. You should get back to sleep, your shift is up next," Olivia felt his movement as he leaned back against the wall beside her.
"In a bit," he sighed.
…1,579, 1,580, 1,581, 1,582...
"Are you going to take me in, when we get out of here?" Peter asked after a silence, "I mean, I wouldn't blame you, but…"
…1,587, 1,588, 1,589...
"No," Olivia replied at last.
"Thanks," Peter replied. She could somehow see his smug smile in her mind's eye, and she frowned.
"It's not because I think you're a good guy," Olivia grumped.
"Oh? Then why are you letting me off?"
It was dark, he couldn't see her features redden, "Someone's got to look after Walter," She said finally.
"Yet you think I'm a good enough guy to look after a total stranger that may or may not be biologically affiliated with me?" Peter questioned, "there are holes in your sentiments, agent Dunham."
"There's gonna be a hole in your head, if you don't shut your trap," Olivia snapped.
"There's your arrogant cop coming out again," Peter warned, "it's not very attractive."
"And why should I care?" Olivia retorted sharply, "You hate cops."
"I don't hate you. And only the cop is unattractive," Peter clarified.
"So you're saying I'd be hot if I weren't a cop?" Olivia sneered.
"Nope. Because it's that completely unattractive cop thing that makes you hot," Peter replied, a smile in his voice.
There was a brief silence, the only sound the soft breathing of their two sleeping companions. "I don't know if I should thank you or kick you in the head," Olivia said at last.
"I have that effect," Peter said, "but it usually leads to but one end."
"And what's-" Olivia's words stilled in her mouth, his touch tracing the line of her jaw in the dark, creeping behind her ear to pull her in for a kiss.
…1,607, 1,60...1,60, 1...1...
xXx
There was a loud, rumbling noise that seemed to shake the tunnel, impeding the group's progress and they froze in fear. The sound faded as Walter asked, with a bit of a squeak in his voice, "What the hell was that?!"
They waited, nearly breathless. Astrid stayed close at Walter's shoulder, and Olivia slowly reached out to take a hold of Peter's hand. He squeezed it comfortingly in response.
Another rush overtook them, echoing against the cement. Astrid balked in sudden realization- "Guys… that's a car."
"What?!" Walter demanded.
"We're under a damn road! We're at the surface!" Astrid cried, "Walter, go! The exit's gotta be around here some place!"
Walter paused, inhaling. Sweat. Breath. Blood. Grass. Blooms, of some sweet, familiar kind.
Asphalt.
They crept along faster, now, hopes and strength renewed. Each rush of wheels some distance above them was greeted with cheers and laughter, until Astrid gave a small cry as a spider's web caught her face. She opened her eyes, suddenly dazed at the brilliance of sunlight through a round, portal-shaped grate overhead.
A few yards ahead, a narrow, flat incline lead out of the drainage ditch on the side of a long, flat stretch of highway, a long, black scar on the landscape surrounded with blooming fields of white clover. The artificial wash was cluttered with weeds and a few pieces of garbage, but the obstructions were quickly pushed aside. Slowly, cautiously, they emerged from the tunnel, eyes stinging in the noon sun, and at last they stood on the hot asphalt, stinging against their bare feet.
"We're out," Olivia whispered, as if daring to believe it.
"We're alive!" Astrid cried happily.
Peter only shut his eyes and nodded, swallowing back a lump in his throat. Olivia threw her arms around him and cried into his neck.
"This place is so surreal," Astrid said, gazing around, "It's… beautiful." She looked up, "Walter…?"
Walter stood in the clover, his arms folded calmly behind his back as he seemed to look through his blindfold up, furrowing his brows at the scattered bits of cloud against a perfect sky. Astrid touched his shoulder, concerned, "I'll wake up, soon," Walter murmured softly.
Astrid smiled, shaking her head, "You won't, Walter. We did it, we made it. Hand to God."
"I don't believe in God," Walter replied quietly. He chuckled, and it sounded tired and without mirth, "I don't believe in God, and I'm allergic to cats. I just don't know how we'll make this work, miss."
Astrid took his hand, "Come on, Walter," she said, giving his arm a tug, and Astrid reached up to touch his cheek. Walter flinched away, at first, as she chuckled, "I owe you this." Astrid leaned up to give him a kiss.
They sat and waited a half an hour for the black FBI vans to arrive, and Charlie Francis only stared at the odd group in bewilderment, "'You folks lost?" he joked.
xXx
END.