The Engineers have knowledge.

Humans have creed.

The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 3, Verse 38

Our feet clapped on the tunnel's flat, gray floor as we ran. It didn't matter—Wolfe knew we were here.

The passage widened at an intersection. We stopped, and I looked back. There was no sight of our pursuer yet, but the sound of his footsteps was unmistakable.

One tunnel branched off to the left, and another one went straight on. Both were dark and much larger than ours.

A small box with three buttons hung on the wall next to us. I pushed one at will. It switched on the lights in one of the tunnels before us. The next button extinguished those in the corridor we had come from.

"Wolfe will run through the dark now," Amy said, grinning.

I pushed the last button, and the tunnel to the left lit up.

"What do you think?" I said. Both tunnels before us were wide enough for six or more people waling side by side without them touching the walls of raw rock. Both curved away, their ends out of sight.

Amy clicked her tongue. "This one!" She pointed to the one ahead.

We ran.

The tunnel took a left turn, and we ended up in a square hall where we came to a halt.

The only sound came from our panting.

Amy looked back. "Maybe he gave up when we switched off the light. Ye cavern dwellers fear the dark."

"I don't think Wolfe gives up that easily," I said. "He's as stubborn as you are. But maybe he went into the other tunnel."

The hall was bare except for a bench along the wall opposite, a row of rusty cabinets to the left, and two doors to the right. The smell of wet metal and corrosion was in the air.

Amy strode to the cabinets and opened one. Its hinges screeched, and it was empty.

"Let's check out the doors," I said. We didn't have time to pilfer the place. We had to get out of here before Wolfe arrived.

I studied the larger one of the two doors. It was wider than the entrance to the temple. The other had a more regular size. A small window, not larger than my hand, sat in its upper half. A metal wheel was mounted below it. Curious, I peered through the grimy glass. The room beyond was cast into a weak, green-gray light, not strong enough to reveal any details.

Pushing me aside, Amy peeked through the window, too. "Let's try this." She grabbed the wheel and turned it. Then she pulled.

Stale air hit my nostrils as the door swung open.

The chamber beyond was only a few steps across, with a second door opposite the first one. A lamp glowed over each exit—the one on this side was green and the other one red.

Amy entered.

I hesitated. The place reminded me of a trap for mice, only larger.

"What are ye waiting for?" She pulled me by my sleeve. "Yer captain might be here at any moment."

She had a point. I entered and pulled the door close behind me. It had another wheel on this side. Hoping it would lock the door, I turned it in the opposite direction.

As I did so, the illumination changed. The light over the door on the other side turned green.

The feeling of being trapped grew stronger.

"Look, clothing!" Amy stood before two long, yellow coats hanging from hooks on one wall. She pulled at one of them, and it moved with a crackling sound. "Oh, they're all stiff. Wouldn't wanna wear that. And besides, it's the same color yer bishop likes. I hate it."

I kept a hand on the door's wheel. It had locked the door, but it still could be turned. I didn't see a way to block it.

"Quick, try the next door," I said. "I can't lock this one for good. I'll hold its wheel in case Wolfe turns up."

"Wait. Look at this." She pulled an object from a shelf below the coats.

In all my life, I only had seen one other looking like it.

A gun. Like the one Wolfe had.

With a broad grin, she aimed it at the door behind me. "Now, I'm the big bad boss here, shooting every dick that doesn't do what I say."

"Point it elsewhere." I didn't like the shooting end of the gun aiming at my crotch. "And try that door. Please?"

We had to get out of here.

"Bang," she said, then she lowered the weapon. "Okay."

She stowed it away in her backpack and turned to the door at her side. It also had a wheel in it. She seized it and turned.

As she did so, the handle on my side jerked. Afraid that Wolfe was trying to operate it, I held it tight and peered through the window. There was no one on the other side.

But the wheel was blocked now. And the light above me had turned from green to red.

"Hey, it's locked now," I said.

"Great. I've turned this one. But this damn door won't open."

After another check that my wheel wouldn't turn, I went to hers. She had rotated it all the way, but the door didn't move.

Since it would swing to this side, we pulled. Nothing happened.

"Oh, we've got company," Amy said. She pointed at the inner door.

Wolfe's face filled its grimy window. He moved his lips, but we heard nothing, his face more pleading than angry.

But I wasn't in the mood to try talking to him.

I forced my attention on the door next to me. If we couldn't open it, we'd be trapped. I grabbed its wheel and placed a foot against its frame. "Help me pull."

Amy stuck out her tongue at the captain, then she joined me.

Something behind us rattled, but I didn't look back.

I braced myself. "Now!"

We both pulled once more. With the sound of an air bubble bursting at the swamp's surface, the door came free. I stumbled back as it suddenly moved towards us.

A wall of light slammed into my face.

"Gobshite," Amy said.

I squeezed my eyes shut, yet the inside of my lids still glowed a fiery orange. Raising a hand, I shielded them and squinted through the gaps between my fingers.

Amy was a crouched outline in the bright exit. She also had her face covered as she stepped out of our chamber.

I followed, still mostly blind.

Warm air wafted over me.

Slowly, I dropped my hands, and the light brought water to my eyes, blurring the scenery before me.

Another "shite" from Amy mixed with a rustling sound like flowing water. The air carried an unfamiliar scent, similar to ripe compost, but stronger—and different, too.

I blinked, turning the moisture in my eyes into tears running over my cheeks.

We stood in a recess at the edge of a much larger place ahead. A place with high plants—trees.

This had to be another cavern, a huge one.

The Manuals told us there were only two of them. The bishop's manuals.

I took a step forward to stand beside Amy and grasped her hand. She wrapped her fingers around mine and squeezed, hard.

Together, we walked across the rocky ground until we reached the edge of the recess. Brown trunks stretched upwards to branches and foliage far above our heads—higher than any cavern I had ever seen.

A draft of air washed over my skin, chilling my sweat.

In the gaps beneath the trees, smaller plants formed a wild maze of leaves, twigs, and branches covering a ground that gently fell away from us. Wild and untended as if there were no farmers to cut them.

The air was ripe with noise. There was the rustle from before, which I now thought came from the leaves moving in the drafts. But other sounds cut through it—melodic whistling and soft hoots like I had never heard.

The recess we had emerged from was set in a face of rock. Tilting back my head, I probed the stone's rough surface with my gaze. Up it went, farther than anything I had ever seen.

And above the rock's steep wall, where the ceiling should be, remote puffs of white floated before a background of dazzling blue.

"Shite," I said.