A Crack in the Sky Read Free Page A

was considering turning back when he noticed a narrow opening in a long stretch of concrete to one side of the passage and a dim green light shining through the gap. Cautiously he poked his head through. There it was—the spyglass!
    He squeezed the rest of the way in and grabbed it. Evenwith the green glow it was dark in this new space, but he realized he’d discovered a secluded alcove with just enough height to stand in. He did. He took a step forward and felt his boot kick against something small and hard on the ground. He heard it slide away. Shining the spyglass, he saw a trail in the dust that led to a pile of debris by the opposite wall, a mound of dirt and broken concrete. Whatever he’d kicked, it was now half-buried at the base of the mound. He squinted. A triangle of white, it looked like the corner of a book, the old-fashioned kind, with actual paper pages and pictures that didn’t move. If so, it was a rare find. He stepped over and pulled it from the heap.
    He was right. It was an old book, tattered but intact. He wiped dust from the cover.
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking-Glass
, by Lewis Carroll. Eli had never heard of it. He wondered what an artifact like this was doing underneath the city. How long had it been there?
    Scanning the base of the wall, he noticed other curious things: Sand goggles. A pair of old boots. A wooden fork. An air-filter mask. Dented and tarnished, the mask was attached to the leather headpiece of an environment suit more or less like the ones the Department of Employee Safety workers wore whenever there was a reason to go Outside. This one was ragged and old, though. Definitely well-worn. Why would someone leave a thing like that down here, of all places?
    In the corner there were a couple of rough blankets, neatly folded, and another one rolled up like a pillow. Had somebody
slept
down here? It seemed too incredible to believe. But then he looked back at the mound of garbage—and this time he noticed a pile of small bones. Some dead thing, recently eaten.
    The sight of it made him queasy.
    Somebody was living down here. But what kind of person was crazy enough to sleep under the city? Who would skulk around the dark catacombs like an animal, hidden from sight and feeding on small creatures they probably found crawling among the pipes and wires? Eli glanced again at the sand goggles. He eyed the air-filter mask. And with a sinking feeling, he suddenly knew.
    There was only one kind of person who would live like this.
    A desert rat. An Outsider.
    His heart began to race. Outsiders, the wild people that lived like savages out in the wasteland outside the domes, were more like untamed beasts than human beings. Some were even mutants. The idea that one of them had managed to penetrate the dome wall into Providence was terrifying. Outsiders were barbarians. They would think nothing of slitting his throat—and then who knew how much looting and killing and chaos might follow? Eli trembled at the thought. He took a step back toward the gap in the wall. He had to get out of here! He needed to rush back and warn everyone!
    But just as he was squeezing into the low passageway again, he heard something. Under a growing hiss of machinery, a series of muffled grunts like heavy breathing. He froze. Farther up the tunnel, a dark shadow lumbered toward him. For an instant it passed through a narrow beam of light, and Eli caught a glimpse of tangled hair and leathery skin, mottled and red. Eli recognized at once the weathered complexion that came from sandstorms and prolonged exposure to the sun.
    There could be no question now. This was an Outsider.
    Eli felt his blood run cold. He was all alone. Nobody knew where he was. If the Outsider were to attack him, to tear him apart, it was conceivable that nobody would ever find out what had happened to him.
    A loud rumble shook the pipes. Eli realized it must be one of the underground trams, the Bubble cars that carried