Sink: Old Man's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

the same.
    Graham cleared his throat.
    “What?” Jeremiah said.
    “You said you wanted to leave here,” Graham said. “You should step through first.”
    “And you don’t?” Jeremiah said. “What happened to the impetuousness of youth? Taking risks is meant to be your forte.”
    “I gave up taking risks in high school,” Graham said. “You’re old. You’ve got less to lose.”
    “Don’t get all heroic on me,” Jeremiah said. “Where are you going to run even if there was someone out there?”
    “Are you going or not?” Graham said.
    Jeremiah sighed. He ducked his head down and stepped outside. Nothing happened to him. Graham stepped out behind him. The globes of light held up on tall poles lit little, but enough to illuminate the road. As they walked through the puddles of light Jeremiah felt like he was in a fairy tale. Not a child’s one, but one of those with a modern twist, with all the childish bits cut out and scary scenes enhanced with gore, the type aimed at adults with an eighteen certificate, and banned in a handful of countries to boot.
    A snort.
    To their left. They spun to face it. But it was just a closed door on a non-descript shack. The snort came again, and this time Jeremiah recognized it for what it was: a snore.
    “It’s okay,” Jeremiah said. “Whoever it is is fast asleep.”
    “Fast asleep?” Graham said. “People live down here?”
    “You didn’t think the houses formed themselves, did you?” Jeremiah said.
    The road wound like a snake through the town. The houses were nothing more than shacks, cobbled together with pieces of whatever they found lying around.
    “We don’t even know where we’re going,” Graham said, keeping his voice down.
    “We’re heading away from this place,” Jeremiah said. “Preferably back toward the surface.”
    “But where are we?” Graham said.
    “My guess?” Jeremiah said. “Underground.”
    “Considering we fell through a sinkhole I think we can take that as read,” Graham said. “But where are we?”
    “In the asshole of nowhere’s my bet,” Jeremiah said.
    “You know, you swear a lot for an old guy,” Graham said.
    “For an old guy I’ve got a lot to swear about,” Jeremiah said.
    “Stop,” Graham said. “I think I heard something.”
    “I didn’t hear anything,” Jeremiah said.
    “With ears like yours you should be able to pick up a fly’s wings beating, but you can’t,” Graham said. “You’re half deaf.”
    “Halt! Who goes there?” a voice from the shadows said.
    The voice was deep and resonant, like an angry principal.
    Graham and Jeremiah froze, standing stock still. “See?” Graham’s expression seemed to say.
    “All villagers should be in their homes,” the voice said. “Return to your homes immediately.”
    “Believe me,” Graham said. “I’d like nothing more.”
    There was a sigh, and then heavy footsteps as the owner of the voice trudged toward them.
    “What should we do?” Graham whispered to Jeremiah.
    “We get him to help us,” Jeremiah said. “I know if I lived down here, I wouldn’t want you with me.”
    The footsteps crunched on the dirt, growing louder and louder.
    The figure emerged from the darkness. First the steel toe-capped boots came into the light, and then the blood-red uniform with a gold medallion stitched on the front. Finally came the tall helmet, and a spear clutched in the man’s hand.
    The guard dropped his spear, staring at Jeremiah and Graham, eyes going from one man to the other, as if he couldn’t quite take in what he was seeing.
    Graham felt like saying the same thing to the guard. Staring at the figure, they were just as enrapt. The man before them was a perfectly scaled-down human. Without his boots and hat he wouldn’t have reached up to their ribcages.
    “Surfacers!” the figure said, finally finding his voice. Then louder: “Surfacers! Surfacers!”
    “No,” Graham said, waving his hands to stop the little man. “Don’t. It’s okay.