3.

As they emerged from the tunnel, Al reached down and grabbed the larger of the bags of parts she had left by the entrance. Hauling the sack over her shoulder, she grunted, “Oi, can you fill the jugs and grab the rest of it?” Miloh gave her a quick thumbs up as Al started the slow climb up the spiraling stairs.

She turned and slung a couple of empty containers over her shoulders by the twine that connected them. Miloh cupped her hands around her mouth and called up, “Bo! You up there?”

The man in question leaned over the railing of the platform located higher above her head. “When am I not! You looking to leave already?” Bo’s usual job in the Hole was operating the rope and pulley system in the Verge that allowed for access to the river below. At one point, it had also been capable of hauling people up and down to and from the surface, but a couple of broken necks and tangled ropes later it wasn’t an option anymore. None of the dwellers of the Hole had the engineering ability to make something that could continually drag people and equipment all the way to the entrance at the top. Al would be bemoaning that fact right about then as she continued her gradual ascent up the stairs to the entrance.

Bo had, though, managed to rig up a system that could get people close enough to the river in order to fill up water containers. “Yeah! Before we go though, I’ve got myself a mighty thirst!” Miloh patted the jugs that hung from her neck.

At this, Bo grinned and said, “I got you covered! Look out below!” Bo’s platform was perched about halfway up the wall to the surface, and it didn’t take him long to lower the rope knotted around a bar of wood down to Miloh. “Thanks, Bo!”

He mockingly saluted her with a tanned hand and replied, “ Try not to fall in now, ya hear?” She rolled her eyes as she gripped the rope and hooked her legs around the wood. He lowered her down to the river, and Miloh submerged each jug in the sluggish rapids. She had often wondered where the river flowed to and from. Al didn’t really care so long as it continued being a sustainable source of water.

The mist beaded on Miloh’s warm brown skin as she looped the now-full jugs back across her shoulders.

“Bo!”

“What!”

“Don’t ‘what’ me! Pull me up!”

“You sure? I mean, you did say you had a mighty thirst!”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Sometimes I think you talk just ‘cause you like your own voice!”

“Awfully confident for someone on the end of my rope, eh?”

“Bo!”

“Alright, alright! No need to get so antsy.”

Miloh was going to smack that smug bastard.

By the time she had been pulled back on up and finally grabbed her and Al’s duffle bags, Miloh was ready to face plant into her bed and let her consciousness fade into sweet, sweet oblivion. Because of her lighter load, it didn’t take long for her to catch up to Al. Being as fit as she was, the sack would ordinarily not have been a problem for her to carry, but Al had already been exhausted from that day’s scavenging expedition.

Usually, a run into that Town wouldn’t have been so tiring. The machines patrolled the streets in small numbers, with long gaps in time between each patrol. The Town had been destroyed a long time ago, and it had been awhile since the Reach had detected anyone within its borders. This made it the perfect place for scavenging if you knew how to be stealthy. It was large enough to still be filled with pockets of usable materials and full of enough debris to hide in and to make it just about impossible for land machines to travel around undetected. No matter how advanced their technology is, they had yet to design themselves to be as agile and adaptable as the average human being.

Still, Miloh and Al were very lucky when they only ran into a single Toaster. They aren’t pleasant to fight since getting too close will kill you even if you do not touch them, but it was certainly better than a Reaper or Sentinel. Those are nasty.

Al had released a small EMP wave from the handheld device she had made for emergencies a long time ago, but it was not strong enough to totally fry its brains. The wave did confuse the machine long enough to delay it from sounding out a warning signal to the most-likely-nearby members of its patrol though. Al further managed to keep its attention while Miloh climbed the nearest skyscraper. Or the remains of what had been a skyscraper.

A couple of stories up, she had been able to find a hefty safe as tall as her. It had taken a gratuitous amount of effort and a large dolly, but she had managed to send it plummeting down four stories right on top of the Toaster. Gravity saved Al’s ass that day.

Being steel-plated, the toaster was far from destroyed, but the internal device that caused the machine to emit high-concentration radiation waves was now useless. After that, it was short work for Miloh and Al to pry off the plating and fry its brains for real. Miloh had left to find anything useful in a derelict structure located a couple of buildings down from them. Al wanted to stay behind to quickly dismantle as much of the steel-plating as she could so that they could use it for later.

She had even almost dismantled the whole thing before Miloh came staggering back under the full weight of the sack of parts, and with the frantic advice of getting the hell out. When rooting around, she had spotted the rest of the patrol through the collapsed back-wall of the building and had come back as quickly as she could.

After that, Al was too busy carrying a bunch of steel to notice the uselessness of the car parts in the sack Miloh dragged with her. Adrenaline had carried them through the ride home in the Mustang, and into the events of the Hole, but now both Al and Miloh were crashing. Hard.

Finally making it to the entrance, Al set the sack down with a grunt and turned to the guard currently on duty at the ladder to outside. “Hey, Hackett. We need to check out.” To say that he was a guard was probably pushing it. The man was the picture of relaxation as he reclined and read the faded volume in his hands. Glancing up briefly, he nodded and closed the book. Not even bothering to get up from where he was sitting against the wall, Hackett reached his hand up to take the clipboard hanging from the stone walls. When he couldn’t quite reach it, Miloh took it down herself and handed it to him. He nodded again in thanks and took down their names and the time. This time, he didn’t bother trying. Handing the clipboard back to Miloh, Hackett leaned back and opened the book again.

Al hesitated, and then said, “...Thanks.” He did not respond.