The Red Queen by Gibson Morales Read Free Book Online Page A

city curfew. Slinking down the streets, he caught sight of boarded up buildings with red signs warning that the inhabitants carried the Crawler virus.
    As a spotlight weaved overhead, Zubren fell against a drop box on the sidewalk. The crowbar he’d packed poked into his back and he cringed in silent pain. Only when the spotlight passed did he look to see the dim outline of an unguarded manhole cover. He pulled around his backpack and fished out the crowbar.
    He let the spotlight circle around one more time, then dashed over, slipped the crowbar in, and wrenched the cover free. Time to get down and dirty.
    Once he’d reached the sewer below, he flicked on his head-mounted flashlight and checked his map for the route he’d marked. If he followed it, he’d arrive at Site G in an hour. Three times as long as by car, but given the curfew that was impossible.
    The ground was composed of wooden planks and metal sheets over a slush of mud and water. Every so often corroded but familiar objects would appear in the cesspool. Wooden chairs. Plastic bottles. Car doors. His wife told him one of her friends had discovered a carved wooden insect that scientists carbon-dated at 3000 years old.
    When he heard a skittering sound, he scanned every direction, fearing a Crawler. It was only a pack of blood-eyed rats.
    A yellow plastic sheet told him he’d arrived at Site G. He sliced the lining open and proceeded carefully, not knowing how intact the excavations had left this place. As his flashlight met the open space, he registered a vast bottomless pit. A wave of humidity hugged him. The distant drip-drip sound drew his gaze to drops from a water leak disappearing in the darkness.
    He found bolts set in the ground on the far side of the ledge, rummaged for his rope, clipped it to the bolt then his belt, and started down the face of the drop. Orange flags were pinned at various intervals going down to mark important finds. That’s when he noticed the holes running along the wall. No, not holes. Windows.
    Inside the first rested the decrepit form of a bedroom. His curiosity hit an all-time high, but there were so many windows lower on. Those were bound to contain more interesting finds. Each time his feet hit against the wall, pieces of the brick flaked off. No viable spots to set bolt anchors. Dangling just beneath the last flag, he decided to rappel no further. There was no telling how stable these ruins were after the centuries they’d spent buried. Besides, the stench of trash and human waste burned his eyes and nose.
    Getting in the next room was easy. Finding a level area to stand proved deadly as the floor splintered and busted open beneath him. The sudden collapse left him with a bruised shoulder and aching feet before he gripped the harness. He’d just started to breathe again when a chorus of clangs alerted him to the objects spilling out of his backpack until it emptied. Doubtless the zipper snagged on something during his little slip-up. As his wife’s expensive gear echoed in the abyss below, he shined his flashlight around the room. Barren walls, but for a few faded photos and a flag of stars and stripes. The floor barely existed, almost entirely fractured. He’d have to study it still hanging from the rope. The less he touched, the safer.
    He examined several more rooms until he found something promising. Sitting on an old desk was what appeared to be a computer monitor and tower. A surge of excitement shot through him so fast he barely managed to keep from reaching out for it. The computer tower looked like it might still be salvageable. At least the interior.
    As it was, he could feel the rope’s tightness. The extra weight of a computer wouldn’t help.
    Every second the rope seemed ready to snap, but in the end he managed to build his momentum and swing in for it. There was nothing for him to put his feet on to try and shift the added weight, so he balanced on a loose plank of wood. Then he stripped off the