They scoffed down a late breakfast on the slimy floor of a small chamber, branching off from a sewer tunnel. Ivory crammed bread and canned peaches into her mouth as quietly as she could. Despite the darkness, they were exposed to anything and anyone, and Ivory wanted to get moving as soon as possible. She leant against the concrete wall. The bread was stale and hard to chew. She tried using peach juice to swallow it, but the fruit had almost spoiled and she cringed every time she tasted it.

The sewer was silent, the air stuffy and humid. Sludge and moss glistened on the walls above the waste. A rat with a missing tail scuttled across the path on the opposite side of the stream. Its squeals rebounded off the walls and Ivory imagined a crank appearing from the shadows to devour it. She'd seen it happen before.

Moose was still and almost timid as he slowly bit into a slice of bread. He kept sneaking glances out into the tunnel. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and Ivory suddenly realised he was paler than normal under faint the sewer lighting. She shook his shoulder. "Hey. Moose. Are you alright?" she asked, searching his eyes for something like madness. But they were empty and afraid.

Moose let out a shuddering sigh, shaking his head. "Sorry. I'm just...okay, fine, I'm scared. I keep seeing those cranks finding us and--and eating us." He licked his lips and bit them. "What...I mean, do you think everything will turn back to normal? Will the Flare eventually disappear? Or..."

Ivory sucked on her cheeks in thought. "I honestly don't know. I don't think they'll be able to stop the Flare," she said silently, having no idea who 'they' were. "But surely some of the Munies might survive until the end, and maybe...maybe they could find somewhere to start over. I don't know." Ivory shrugged and slipped another peach into her mouth. Her mind began to dwell on the Munies, the 1% of the remaining population that was immune to the Flare, the lucky bastards. No one knew how or why, they just resisted the disease, never showed any symptoms of it. The other 99% hated Munies with such ferocity, Ivory was almost thankful she wasn't immune. Almost. Okay, to be honest, she envied the immunes, and would give anything to be one.

"I guess that leaves the rest of us to die off..." Moose muttered, massaging his head subconsciously. "They're at it again in my brain. I wish--"

But whatever Moose wanted to say was cut off by a muffled wave of screams and panicked chatter, seeping into the sewers from above ground. Then the floor began to vibrate beneath them, and a dull thudding subdued the sounds of the people above. It sounded like whirring helicopter blades, but increased by a hundred.

Ivory and Moose scrambled to their feet, spreading their hands against the walls for support. Ivory shoved the bag of bread into her backpack and kicked the empty peace can away. "We need to get up there," she said, staring at the roof.

"What? Are you crazy?" Moose cried over the trembling of the sewer. "We should avoid up there altogether."

"And get crushed by the sewer potentially caving in? We need to see what's going on." Ivory stepped out into the tunnel, and heard a cry of terror to her right. She whirled around to see a crank stumbling along toward her. She raised her gun and buried a bullet in its stomach. The crank groaned and toppled into the stream. Moose appeared beside her. "There'll be more after this guy," Ivory said. She pointed to the left. "I think I saw a ladder before. There, it leads up to a manhole."

They darted along the tunnel to the rusty ladder, that stood in the middle of their path. Sure enough, a manhole waited above them, and Ivory could only hope it lead to the surface as Moose clambered up towards it. After a few heaves the metal plate scraped against its frame and came free. Moose shoved it up and out of sight, letting in a stream of blinding white light and an intense heat wave.

Ivory wheezed and blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the sudden light after spending hours in nearly pitch black sewers. Moose disappeared into the sunlight, and Ivory quickly followed him. The thudding had become much louder now, sounding more like a whirring helicopter than anything. She crawled up onto the sandy ground, and realised they were surrounded by at least 15 or so cranks. But all were distracting, staring and pointing up at the massive aircraft descending towards the ground, thrusters blazing with blue flames. It was a Berg.

The Berg's blades churned up the sand and threw it around the buildings of the town. Ivory wondered how the ship would fit in the small area without hitting any buildings or squashing any cranks. Then she realised she and Moose were almos directly beneath the Berg, and dragged Moose out of the way, towards an abandoned three-storey flat.

"They're..they're rescuing us, Ivory!" Moose exclaimed, a smile breaking out across his face. Ivory hadn't seen him smile in ages, but it wasn't contagious.

"I don't know, Moose...Why would these...whoever they ares come to save us now?" she said.

Suddenly she felt a tugging on her left arm, and turned to see an old woman clinging to it desperately. Her dress was torn and bloody, barely covering her groin and she looked as if she'd ripped out most of the hair from her scalp.

The woman started skipping around Ivory's arm in glee. "We're saved, deary, saved!" she cried in a deranged voice. "Saved, saved, saved! God has answered our prayers--we'll be cured, deary! No more disease, no more--"

"Get off her!" Moose cried, suddenly there and tearing the woman away from Ivory. "Get lost, lady, you're crazy."

The old hag's joyful expression contorted into one of malice at Moose's words. She remained still and silent, the wind whipping up her remaining stringy hair as she glared at them. For a moment Ivory thought she'd attack, but then she turned and skipped off, giggling to herself and waving her arms around in excitement.

"What the hell..." Moose muttered.

Ivory shuddered, wiping self-consciously at her arm as if she could scrape away the trace of the old crank. "Thanks, Moose." Then she turned back to see the Berg settling into the sandy street, and noticed a word plastered onto its side in large white letters: WICKED.

And then her mind transported her back to the settlement in Alaska, where she lived with her mother for three years before the Flare was unleashed. She saw the Berg hovering above the huts and the people that gazed up in wonder and hope. She saw herself clinging to her mother, daring to think for the first time that she'd taken somewhere safe. She saw the same word, WICKED, written on the side of the aircraft.

The Berg's access ramp had lowered, and four figures in yellow hazmat suits appeared, each wielding some kind of tube. The settlement erupted in screams of terror and panic as the figures began firing black darts into the crowd. Men, women and children dropped like bees as the darts buried themselves into their skin. Ivory saw her mother yanking her up into her arms, and running, running as far as they could away from the Berg, away from the settlement. Darts slammed into the ground behind them, but somehow they weren't hit. Ivory remembered watching the bodies of the children she'd befriended growing farther and farther away, watching those who were still standing sprinting off to find shelter from the lethal darts.

And then Ivory was back in the present, the ramp of the Berg before her lowering towards the sand, the word WICKED mocking her from its place on the ship's side, and the cranks scrambling towards the ship in manic desperation.

And Ivory thought, They're not here to save us.

Six figures in hazmat suits appeared on the ramp.

They're not here to cure us.

They held submachine guns instead of tubes.

They're here to slaughter us.

The figures opened fire on the swarm of cranks.