Before, when man walked the earth, only a scant few weeks ago, despite common misconceptions, the underground was not quiet. It was constantly humming with the noise of humanity: the trains rushing by every other minute or so, the never ending New York traffic noises wafted down, people shouting, honking their horns, even the shootings. They all reached the underground tunnels, and echoed through them, distorting even as they faded to silence.

Now, a short time after the supposed demise of humanity, the tunnels were filled with other sounds, a constant dripping that the noises of the trains and people and traffic and shootings had covered for years and years.

And and night: other noises.

Despite the electricity having been cutoff almost globally for the last month or so, in his hidey-hole beneath the city, Mercedes heard another noise altogether. At night the city seemed positively alive, humming with unseen forces. Sometimes
something would pass directly over where Mercedes had settled for the night, and the hairs on his arms, and head would stand up. He could feel it too, a kind of numbing force.

The dawn was approaching - the new dawn - much more dour and dim than that of the previous world. The holes in the man hole up above told him. If he peered  hard enough at them, he could make out the dull rosy sky gradually brightening.

Then, Mercedes heard the scream.

"Wha...? Danger. A woman in trouble?" Mercedes scrambled to his feet like a slithering rodent. His thing body rolled over on itself and somehow landed him upright. His careful movements were blurred by the dingy, tan trench coat he wore. He had found it the other day rummaging through the desolate city streets. The guy wearing it didn't look like he'd need it anymore.

Another scream resonated through the underground. The young man sprinted towards it only to leap into the air and land on a tall pile of rubble that had once been a subway car. He perched himself on the twisted metal frame like a small animal listening for danger. From here he could see down the tunnel. Light was pouring in from open sewer lids and holes in the streets above.
In the distance there were forms moving around, but Mercedes couldn't make out what they were doing. The scream sounded again form the group of figures followed by soft, silent sobs for help. Mercedes' eyes widened has he began to realize what was going on. Slowly, he let his form slump down against the wrecked train car. There wasn't anything he could do for the girl. There wasn't anything anyone could do short of some kind of hero.

Suddenly a change came over the boy. His eyes, once wide with fear and confusion, now seemed determined. His posture shifted upright as he rose to his full height and leapt down from the train car to the tunnel floor below. "There is not to question why, but to do and die!" He said aloud as he grabbed a long metal rod from the wreckage and began to charge towards the shadowy figures.

He must have looked terrifying in his trench coat, racing towards those thugs, with a glistening metal rod in his hand because they ran like the devil were after them. They were only half right. Though, Mercedes wasn't there to tell anyone about it. As he ran, full steam, and the thugs began o run away, the boy slipped on a pile of loose dirt. His feet flew out from under him and took all
his wind away. He lay there, on the ground, for several minutes before opening his eyes again. When he sat up, the thugs were gone and a frail, somewhat undernourished young woman was left on the ground where they had been.

Mercedes crawled over to her and poked at her shoulder like a scared child testing the temperature of a pool. The woman didn't move. Was she dead? Mercedes got closer. Was she unconscious? Mercedes leaned over her and looked down on to
her face. What she... he didn't know.  Grabbing her by her shoulders, he dragged her limp frame to the spot he has
chosen to sleep in the night before. It was secluded, but not hidden. They would be safe there for a while. It would be long enough to find out if the girl was alive or not. Mercedes fell back onto his rear as he pulled her the last few
feet.

There he sat...and waited.

"Wha...? Danger. A woman in trouble?" Mercedes scrambled to his feet like a slithering rodent. His thing body rolled over on itself and somehow landed him upright. His careful movements were blurred by the dingy, tan trench coat he wore. He had found it the other day rummaging through the desolate city streets. The guy wearing it didn't look like he'd need it anymore.

Another scream resonated through the underground. The young man sprinted towards it only to leap into the air and land on a tall pile of rubble that had once been a subway car. He perched himself on the twisted metal frame like a small animal listening for danger. From here he could see down the tunnel. Light was pouring in from open sewer lids and holes in the streets above.

In the distance there were forms moving around, but Mercedes couldn't make out what they were doing. The scream sounded again form the group of figures followed by soft, silent sobs for help. Mercedes' eyes widened has he began to realize what was going on. Slowly, he let his form slump down against the wrecked train car. There wasn't anything he could do for the girl. There wasn't anything anyone could do short of some kind of hero.

Suddenly a change came over the boy. His eyes, once wide with fear and confusion, now seemed determined. His posture shifted upright a he rose to his full height and leapt down from the train car to the tunnel floor below. "There is not to question why, but to do and die!" He said aloud as he grabbed a long metal rod from the wreckage and began to charge towards the shadowy figures.

He must have looked terrifying in his trench coat, racing towards those thugs, with a glistening metal rod in his hand because they ran like the devil were after them. They were only half right. Though, Mercedes wasn't t here to tell anyone about it. As he ran, full steam, and the thugs began o run away, the boy slipped on a pile of loose dirt. His feet flew out from under him and took all his wind away. He lay there, on the ground, for several min utes before opening his eyes again. When he sat up, the thugs were gone and a frail, somewhat undernourished young woman was left on the ground where they had been.

Mercedes crawled over to her and poked at her shoulder like a scared child testing the temperature of a pool. The woman didn't move. Was she dead? Mercedes got closer. Was she unconscious? Mercedes leaned over her and looked down on to her face. What she... he didn't know.

Grabbing her by her shoulders, he dragged her limp frame to the spot he has chosen to sleep in the night before. It was secluded, but not hidden. They would be safe there for a while. It would be long enough to find out if the girl was alive or not. Mercedes fell back onto his rear as he pulled her the last few feet. There he sat...and waited.

She was not ill, not with the grey sickness anyway. She was wounded and in shock, and soon her breathing returned strongly. Lucky for her, for her condition though not life threatening was certainly uncomfortable. In the dim light, Mercedes could see a bruise forming on one cheek and others on her arms and legs: finger marks, from the tight grip of others, perhaps the men.

She sat up abruptly.

"Where... wha?" And shook her head, as if to clear it. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness she made out Ash and let out a gasp.

"You were the one! The one that scared them off...." She let her eyes wander around the tunnels, and she nodded. "Underground. We're underground."

She gingerly felt herself, wincing as she hit bruises.

"Who were they, did you get a good look. Were they..." Her gaze went to the manhole above them, "You know.... machines?"

Mercedes stared at the woman for a few moments before he could manage anything out of his mouth. He tried to speak sooner, but the words refused to come from his throat.

"I-I-I don't know. Um, I uh, didn't get a good look at them. They looked like people."

Slowly Mercedes moved closer to the woman looking at her bruises.

"They hurt bad," he asked her pointing at the bruise on her face. "I'll, uh, get ya some water if ya want."

The limber young man scurried away from the woman, but only went a few feet before stopping and turning around.

"Uh, name's Mercedes. Um, don't move or make no noise. I'll be right back."

With that, Mercedes took off down the length of the tunnel. He knew of a water main that had a small leak in it. The water seemed clean enough; he'd been drinking it for weeks now. As he moved through the tunnels, he often felt as though something, or someone, was watching him. Occasionally he would think he saw a shadow move, but then he was never 100% sure.

He fetched the water safe enough and began his short run back to his hiding place. It had taken him only 5 minutes to get the water.

She was crouched in the corner, still when he returned, quietly panicking at his subtle noises of approach until she realised it was him.

She took the water from him and sipped it.

"They come inside us..." She suddenly whispered. Her brown eyes sparkled in the dim with unspilt tears. "They come inside us to find out how we work and how they can win. Because they know...."

She set the water down in front of her and turned to him suddenly, combing her fingers through her long chestnut hair. It had been a long time since it had been combed, and she worked the snarls impatiently.

"We've got to get out of the city.... that's where most of them are now.... I heard a man say it.... Find others, rebuild."

She swallowed and was quiet for a time, perhaps trying to stop the tears that were suddenly slipping down her face, perhaps a minute's silence in remembrance of her dead race.

Mercedes cocked his head to the side with a curious expression on his face. "Leave? Why? I ain't got no beat with nobody. Don't no one care 'bout me down here. You can be the same. Ain't no point in rebuilding what ya didn't have part of to start."

He could tell the woman was afraid. Her tears were heavy and caused the dirt on her face to form long dark streaks down her cheeks. Mecedes sighed. He couldn't stand to see people suffering like this. Being poor was one thing; being broken was another. "Don't worry. Mercedes'll get ya outta here. No body knows these tunnels like me." He smiled at the woman. "You got a name? People call me Mercedes. Picked it out myself. Good name huh?"

The gangly young man shifted a little closer to the woman and offered her a dirty, oil-stained rag to wipe her face with. It was all he had to offer her in this place.