The law of the Manuals is unyielding. 

Transgression is punished.



The Manuals of the Bunker, Vol. 2, Verse 33

The cabin of the crane grew smaller as it slowly trundled away from me.

I stood on the narrow ledge. Fearing the fall to the cavern's hard ground many meters below me, I pushed my back against the cold wall.

A lamp hung from the ceiling next to me, almost within reach, its wide shade at the level of my feet. I prayed its evening-glow still had the strength to dazzle the guards' probing eyes.

If they saw me, I'd be trapped—an easy target.

I could give up now. Let them take me. They'd take me to my father. We'd be together.

The cabin rumbled as it moved along its track. The craner looked back at me, mouthing something, gesturing at the door.

He was about sacrifice himself. For me.

I owed him for that. I could not give up now.

To the right of me, the ledge continued to the chute, whose smooth, steep surface would make it impossible to climb upwards. And down wasn't the way to go even if I'd survive the slide.

On my left side, the ledge ended at the door.

It was the only way out of here. I turned towards it, hugging the wall and staying as far from the beckoning fall as I could.

More a hatch than a door, its upper frame reached my chest. A layer of paint covered it, flaking off at places and revealing the pitted, corroded metal underneath.

The paint formed a sign, a red, crossed-through circle, cutting right through the black outline of a man. Its message needed no words.

Forbidden to man

Gritting my teeth, I seized the small handle and pulled.

Nothing happened. I pulled harder, and suddenly, the door yielded, coming open on screeching hinges. As I stumbled back, one of my feet slipped from the ledge. I held on to the handle to stop my fall.

For a moment, I hung there. Then I grabbed the edge of the hatch, hauled myself back up, and took a deep breath.

The noise of the opening door must have been loud enough for them to hear. I turned to check on my pursuers. They gazed upwards in my direction.

Wolfe still held the gun in his hand.

Did they see me?

A rattling noise made them and me look up. The crane's grapple was right above their heads, descending towards them. And it was fast, its chains clattering like a rockslide.

They ducked and jumped away, instants before the grapple crashed into the ground where they had stood.

The craner! He was trying to draw their attention, giving me the time to flee.

Yet fleeing would mean leaving him behind, leaving him at these men's doubtful mercy. And now they'd be pissed at him.

I glanced at the chute to the right of me once more. I could jump into it and slide down, hoping for a soft enough landing.

And then what? There was nothing I could do to help him.

First my father and now the craner—I had to watch them being arrested, helpless. I clenched my hand around the amulet I still held. A weakling and a coward—that's who I was.

And I was about to run away.

The men below stared at the grapple and the slack chains above it, shielding their eyes against the lamps' light.

I unclasped my fingers. The strange bird on the craner's amulet—the phoenix—seemed to mock me with its one-eyed scrutiny.

'Don't look back.' Those had been the craner's words of goodbye.

He had wanted me to run.

I blinked the tears from my eyes and hung the amulet around my neck, just like he had worn it. I owed it to the man—I had to save myself.

I had to turn my back on the life I knew. I had to leave now.

But I'd return.

I peeked into the space behind the door. The light seeping in from the cavern revealed a metal grid platform beyond the threshold, no broader than the ledge I stood on. Beyond it, yawned darkness. The smell of old metal and wet rock wafted out at me.

This was the smell of the Engineers' realm. And the Manuals said it clearly: the realm of the Engineers was forbidden to man.

Voices from the cavern made me turn my head. The captain was pointing his pistol upwards and shouted something. The other guard and Frankie were climbing onto the grapple.

They were trying to get into the cabin—to get at the craner.

Don't look back, he had said.

I swallowed as I ducked under the doorframe and stepped over the threshold.

My vision was slow to adapt to the darkness. Rough walls of concrete extended up and down into blackness. The platform at my feet jutted into a vertical shaft. Metal rungs formed a ladder along the opposite wall. It was within reach, but a maw of black separated it from the grid I stood on.

The door behind me still stood open. Its dark rectangle might attract attention.

I grabbed its handle and dragged it slowly towards me, hoping to keep the hinges from screeching out once more. But as the gap along its frame narrowed, chewing into the light, I stopped.

If I closed the hatch completely, I'd see nothing at all. I'd be at the mercy of anything lurking here.

I left the door a finger's width ajar.

Up or down?

I turned and listened into the shaft. The grid under my metal feet creaked as I shifted my weight, but all else was silence.

Going up might take me to the upper cavern. I knew the place. It was much bigger than ours. I might be able to leave the shaft and hide there, in the realm of man.

Going down? Was there anything down there at all?

Up it was, then.

My fingers trembled as I reached for a rung on the opposite side of the shaft, testing its strength. It was cold and rough to the touch, yet it held strong. I probed another one with a foot. It supported my weight.

I grabbed the rung with both hands and left the platform.

Above me, shadow claimed the ladder within no more than a couple of steps. I'd have to feel my way up with my hands, trying to locate the exit for the upper cavern. There had to be one.

A draft of air from below chilled my sweaty skin. I started to climb, and blackness crowded in on me after the first few steps.

A sudden rustle from above made me freeze. I listened.

My heartbeat drummed loudly. Apart from that, all was quiet.

I resumed my climbing, groping for a door or the next platform, the one that would take me out of here—back into the upper cavern and back into the light.

Each time I tried, I found nothing.

There it was again, like the rustling noise of a chicken batting its wings.

The birds? They were supposed to live on the surface above. And I was ascending.

My knees shook as I fumbled around me for the exit once more—still nothing. The flapping came closer.

Moments later, it was right around me, and something ruffled my hair—a fleeting touch and a gust of wind.

I swatted at it, but there was nothing but dark air surrounding me.

Fear brought sweat to my palms. I had to get out of here. And the only exit I knew was the door I had come through.

Going back to our cavern would be better than fighting ghosts or birds in the dark.

Forcing my shaking legs into motion, I took a step down, then another one, the flapping sounds growing angrier all around me.

Something brushed my back.

Faster and faster, I retreated, two rungs at a time now. The noise didn't subside, though—it was louder than ever. Again, something crashed into my back, small but quick. A swat to the side of my head almost made me lose my hold on the rung. My ear stung. I squeezed my eyes shut to protect them and hurried on.

The noises continued to harass me.

Was this the Manual's punishment for trespassing?

And where was that bloody platform to our cavern? Had I missed it?

I opened my eyes and glanced up. The faintly illuminated grid, meters above, confirmed my fears—I had passed the exit.

A shadow blotted the outline of the platform and crashed into my face.

With a yelp, I lost my grip and tumbled into darkness.