Chapter 9 - The Power Station Pipe
The dark mouth of the narrow drainage pipe yawned open just a few feet away from where Leo stood, exhaling a gust of hot, dry air that smelled faintly of ozone and burning coal. The metal interior was slick with grease, sloping upward at a steep thirty-degree angle into the blackness beyond.
“Arthur’s right, Leo,” Evelyn said, stepping between the toddler and the opening. She knelt down, her face illuminated by the dying glow of her phone screen. “We don’t know where that pipe exits. It could drop straight into active machinery.”
“The big gate is locked,” Leo replied stubbornly, his small jaw set with a quiet resolve that seemed far too mature for his age. He looked down at the brown puppy, which was licking the salt from a tear track on his cheek. “They’re going to flood this tunnel. You guys can’t fit through there, but I can.”
“We’re not splitting up, kid,” Arthur growled, though his voice lacked its previous authority. He looked up as a fresh wave of water surged against the outer barriers, splashing over the walkway and soaking the hems of his trench coat. The water was rising faster now—inches by the minute.
“If we stay here, we all drown,” Evelyn said grimly, realizing the horrific mathematics of their situation. She looked from Arthur to Leo, her eyes welling with tears. “The pressure in the main sector is reaching critical mass. The sluice gate won’t hold back that volume for another five minutes.”
Arthur cursed under his breath, kicking a loose brick into the rising water. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, heavy-duty waterproof flashlight, pressing it firmly into Leo’s tiny, dirt-stained hand.
“Take this,” Arthur instructed, his voice thick with emotion. “Keep it pointed straight ahead, and don’t look down. When you reach the end of the pipe, you’ll see a heavy iron grating held together by a rusted padlock. Use the gold pin to wedge the latch. It’s made of soft brass; it’ll snap if you apply enough leverage.”
Leo nodded solemnly, slipping the flashlight into the pocket of his oversized jacket and securing the puppy firmly under his left arm. He crawled forward on his hands and knees, the coarse wool of his blanket trailing behind him like a tattered cape.
“Be careful, Leo,” Evelyn whispered, pressing a hand against the cold metal rim of the pipe as the toddler disappeared into the absolute darkness.
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As Leo crawled upward into the roaring machinery noise of the power station, his foot caught on something sharp protruding from the pipe wall. He winced, pulling his leg free, but as he reached down to check his sock, his fingers brushed against a cold, metallic object hidden in the grease—a second key, identical to the one Arthur carried, engraved with the mayor’s private seal.
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