`FOUND VII`

  Damn reavers. A smart-ass who has never gone scrapping a day in their life would tell you that they and raiders are one of the same. It's too bad that's not quite the case, though they can commit similar acts it's similar to comparing a hammer to a scalpel.

  Raiders roam around, in large groupings with shoddy equipment, passable skill, and lacklustre co-ordination. But it can get them by, just about. Reavers are far more solitary, their equipment far more advanced- usually, their expertise greater, and their co-ordination is impressive.

  Both test their mettle against the defences of dens but for far different purposes. While raiders want the spoils of whatever den they invade, a reaver has no use for anything a den provides, even the far more spoilt centre dens couldn't satisfy their need for the best available equipment.

  Every reaver is a raider, but not every raider is a reaver.

  If a reaver does have some goal in mind, it's usually assassination, intelligence gathering, maybe they've just been instructed to destroy a rival. Reavers are commonly hired, as defence and as offense by competing dens, a flourishing business no doubt and a dangerous one.

  But, for a den in the outskirts? What possible value would any other den have here? This place is empty of anything worth taking, anyone worth killing, and as far as I can tell completely devoid of valuable intelligence any other entity may want.

  Not only that, but multiple hostiles. Though these 'hounds' as the transmitter referred to them are no reavers either, to be honest, they have nothing in common with anything I've seen. Though, I'll keep that strange star symbol in mind for the future.

  If I get tied up in this it could be a headache for the rest of however long I live.

  I got hit in the back of the head, which almost made me tumble over myself. That's what I get for thinking about something too hard.

  "That was quite the weirdo' transmission, wasn't it?" Lila abruptly asked,

  She had decided to put her hand on my shoulder, much to my dismay as it was still quite injured from the shrapnel that had lodged into it beforehand.

  "You'd be surprised what you can find if you walk around in this place enough." I bluntly state,

  I move forward to urge her hand off my back, as I was attempting to hold back any reaction to the pain.

  "Really now? I almost want to toss this nice little thing away." She mused,

  She held the transmitter upward for a moment, before putting it back onto her own belt,

  "There's some crazy idiots out there, but it's definitely up there in my logs." I calmly reply,

  "I say it's best to keep it anyhow, it'll let us know if he's closer than we'd want. I don't want to be too uncomfortable on my way down that old rotten path." She rationally explained,

  "Keep it on." I suggest,

  "What? Why?" She asked,

  "Well, if he's the type to watch, then maybe he'll be more interested in following then getting ahead. Especially if he's confident that he's faster, which most reavers are." I explain,

  "Sounds like a terrible idea, but, we don't have many good ones left." She mused,

  She shrugged herself into a chuckle, before looking back to check on the podling posse, everything looked to be in order at first glance.

  With a few flicks against a pad, the secondary exit shot open.

  "Alrighty! The plan is simple, we make it to the next station over, take the cart over to the next over den. As much as I really don't want to." Lila strictly announced,

  One podling nodded, another groaned, and the third seemed like they weren't listening, meanwhile the kid pushed out the wagon for the other podlings to handle.

  "Kid, you're with me, we're going forward to clear the nearest tunnel entrance. I'm sure the SC can handle the rest." I boorishly order,

  The kid looked back at Lila, and she would shoo him onward. Looks like the transaction has her blessing, as per our deal.

  "Yup, see ya' in a moment scrapper." She anxiously assured,

  She seems to have filled herself with a false confidence, I guess that's for the best when you're surrounded by a load of jumpy children.

  But it's false nonetheless.

  From here it should be a relatively short trip down the pathway of the cart tunnels. Luckily the den was built upon a capillary station, the way most cart tunnels work is that they travel a particular distance to a particular place, obviously.

  But, it's a little more complicated, each tunnel is levelled on its distance, the deepest of cart tunnels are the most important and are connected by the artery stations. I even once went down to one, but they're all broken- I think.

  Either way, they travel the length of this entire city.

  Then there are vein stations, which, unlike the artery stations, are not created equal whatsoever. Some vein stations are comparable to artery stations, and some blur the line between vein and capillary stations. They can travel across entire sections, or just across districts.

  While the longest capillary station I've travelled on only went about 2 hours before stopping. Fully functioning carts can easily cover an hour of walking distance in half a minute. So if we can get to the next station over, it's our ticket to another den, and out of any harms way.

  Though there are few carts that are what I would ever consider 'fully functioning'. Just hearing them can give you a panic attack. Not to mention how terribly dark these places are, the lighting is rarely functional, along with the usual mist building up everywhere.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I've been around these types of places many times, and my mentor even brought me down here for one of my original missions. I hated him for that, but I probably needed it. Even if it might scar you for life, it's a rite of passage to scream a few times.

  Maybe, sometimes, you need something worse.

  Then the kid skipped in front of me almost blocking the way forward,

  "Does this mean you're gonna teach me how to be a scrapper!" He excitedly asked,

  His mask managed to catch a lot of his excitement, for an SC in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere, she has pretty decent equipment at her disposal- I guess it's best not to think about it too hard.

  "Don't get ahead of yourself kid, you might lose it." I answer,

  "Oh, sorry. But, my name is Kip." He timidly responded, moving aside for me to go ahead again,

  That's a stupid name. But at least it isn't an impossibly long sequence of numbers, or a literal insult- I think.

  "Once the SC and those podlings are in the next den over, then maybe I can start to teach you something worthwhile." I calmly explain, capturing his attention again,

  "Can I ask questions at least, please?" He irritatingly asked,

  "If you manage to make them somewhat relevant, otherwise, no. Besides, if you know what's good for you, observe." I strictly respond,

  We quickly begin to gain distance from the rest of the group, and I begin to use my knife to mark particular spots in the wall. Careful to point my gun down the pathway regardless.

  "What are you doing that for?" Kip swiftly questioned,

  "Marking when the path seems more flimsy, don't want them falling off the side into the canyon, do we?" I falsely answer,

  In reality it probably gives Lila more peace of mind off the fact that we're continuing down the correct path, though I prefer not to incite an SC's scorn anyhow.

  The tunnel way is typical, almost unsettlingly so, but the isolation of capillary stations usually mean they're overall less downtrodden- but, the lack of value makes them eerily empty. The most catching feature being the many hanging panels of the roofing of the tunnel.

  To the left the wall is clearly originally featureless, but in the uncountable years spent slowly soaking in the decay of the surface left it with many scars. Great scratches, large indents, chipping metal turning into flakes which float around us.

  A sickly dry air, comparable to the thinner walkways, though less deadly. Luckily. There was a clear mist leaking in from the multiple somewhat functional ventilation which led eventually to the surface. The ash which was just small enough to slip through all the cracks it needed to.

  To the right was a railing, shoddily swaying consistently, and about as secure as the hanging panelling on the roof. But it was the only protection from the distinct possibility that you could fall into a black abyss which lay right below us.

  Honestly, this is far from the most sketchy place I've had to traverse.

  When we reached what the alternative entrance should've been to this place, which the SC said was still standing, it was clearly not.

  "This doesn't look like an old development." I sarcastically comment,

  "Ed said he looked at this place just a few days ago." Kip cautiously interjected,

  Unless that geezer had dementia, the dust and that smell- it all points to this place being recently collapsed, and it looked quite intentional too. But, why didn't we hear it?

  "Hey, this doesn't look that broken." Kip pointed out,

  I didn't bother to fully register what the kid was saying, my attention captured by a small notation etched into one of the panels. '46-7'. Well, he was right about that.

  "This was placed here intentionally, maybe before the raiders first entered the plaza, so the reaver spent that time doing this?." I curiously assume,

  "But, why?" Kip annoyingly asked,

  "He wants to keep us on a predictable pathway." I plainly answer,

  I quickly turn back, the SC was fairly far, but also out of harms way for a foreseeable distance. Then, the only chance we have to reach our point, is to move as fast as possible to secure it.

  "If we're not fast enough, he'll pick us off at just a short distance away from our way out." I quickly explain, as I etch a message for Lila on the wall,

  "It really is just a game for him." Kip nervously commented,

  "Let's move, if we reach the halfway point, it's our chance to do this on equal terms." I urge,

  Even if it's a reaver, it's better than letting him pick us off from distance.

  I urge the kid onward, and we begin a mad dash further down the path. Unfortunately I have to neglect any further warning to Lila, but this is a particularly dire circumstance, she'll know.

  As we cleared down the pathway, ignoring the terrible creaking and attempting to properly pace ourselves without exhausting too much energy we come across a strange box looking object. Before anything could happen, I come to a stop, forcibly stopping the kid with my arm.

  It seemed to be some sort of converted rust-bucket, it had no limbs, nor was it particularly lively in any other department. A lot of dens use repurposed rust-buckets as a form of security, think of them as cameras or an alarm system, usually connected to some wireless system.

  The kid took the liberty of shooting it, and though he missed three times the fourth landed and the rust-bucket was disabled- well, more disabled. This could be our chance to shake him off, at least for long enough to get to a better position.

  I move up toward a large metal door, which would lead upward to a transition point into the other plaza tunnels, and if I can play this right- I can catch him before he realises I'm there.

  "Why have we stopped? We need to hurry right?" Kip hyperactively asked,

  "We've reached his marker before he did, which means he's following the transmitter still." I sharply answer,

  I kick the rest of the rust-bucket off into the canyon, and then move to force the door open, which is much harder then I anticipated at first.

  "Hey, is this part of the plan?." Kip hastily half-whispered,

  "Come and hold position at the top of the stairs, shoot anything that comes into view." I simply command, as I force open the thick metal door,

  With urgency the kid ran up the stairs with me, and held position as I made my way into the transition point.

  It's a small area, which essentially marked a crossroads in the tunnel, this led east toward our goal, west back to the den, and south into the cart tunnel.

  "I hope you know what you're doing." I mutter to myself,

  I rip an exposed rotting pipe from the left of the transition way, this is a bad idea but it's the only way I can see here. I take my helmet off, placing it on the top of the pipe.

  It's warmer than I expected, and my hair was annoyingly greasy with ash sticking too it almost immediately. Last time I felt like this, well, at this point it'd be a bad idea to recall it. Regardless, I throw a smoke grenade into the tunnel way- if my estimations are correct, then.

  I wave the pipe and my helmet in front of the westward tunnel, in an instant the top of the pipe and my helmet were gone.

  The blast itself almost manage to knock my too my feet, and something managed to graze me just above my eye, leaving a slow trail of blood down the side of my vision. I wipe it off with haste, and prepare my new revolver.

  He doesn't have time, that sound in the tunnels, it's going to attract something far worse then any possible threat he believes I pose. Unless he's mad enough to think he can destroy those too.

  Even though I had predicted a rational response, there was none, he was contented to wait for me to make the next move.

  So we're going to play it like that?

  He is mad enough. So why not then, fight mad with mad. Besides, the charge gun is lent, so might as put it to use. I take a thermal grenade from my pack, he's too far for it to be useful against him. But, there are other things that can do that job for me.

  The reason why intersections in tunnels like this are elevated is for the ventilation to have access points, hence why above each tunnel is a vent shaft. From what I've seen most of these shafts are collapsed, broken, or just clogged.

  But, they can be used for something else.

  I throw the grenade through the vent into the shaft, it shattered through the terribly maintained, thin metal, and then proceeded to explode. As a portion of the tunnel collapsed onto itself, leaving the path forward obstructed.

  The kid seemed frozen in some sort of combination of amazement and confusion, but I forcefully drag him down past the door with haste. He made the mistake of thinking we'd be more cohesive in our movement, so now he's going to have to take an alternative path around to us.

  Though now that he knows we've split from the transmitter's signal, he knows we cannot communicate, and that we're attempting to reach the next station. We can't wait for the others, otherwise we just won't be fast enough.

  That was so much scrap value spent for time. I don't plan to waste it.