Level Zero by Dan McDowell (books that read to you TXT) 📕

you, Mr. Wilkerson —  Do you want the stuff for the boys or the stuff for the men?”

Chris slicked his hair back, trying not to show impatience. ”I don’t know anymore. Surprise me.”

Joe laughed, eking out a few words, “Okay, I’ll surprise you.”

He proceeded to the south end of the tunnel with two pewter cups. Chris continued to monitor the birds as they cooked.

How long are you going to be gone? I don’t want to screw this up. Who knows what you’d do to me?

Chris flipped the birds over so the other side could crisp.

Joe arrived back with drinks. “Now, that’s a foul! Fowley boy… I never told you to do that, did I? Making hasty assumptions. Ah, Ah, Ah!” He shook his finger at him and said, “I’m just kidding. That was a test, Chris, and you… passed! If you’d left the bird to cook and burn all the way through while I wasn’t here, you would have failed, and we couldn’t be sharing this splendid meal together. I mean, I wouldn’t have any use for you. You’d be a dummy. Heh-heh.”

Chris struggled to fake a laugh.

Who is this weirdo?

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

The pair dined and deliberated over the bird as CHRIS WILKERSON forced conversation to ease his anxiety.

Is it just me, or are his eyes getting bluer and brighter?

“You’re looking a little different already,” Chris said. “How often do you eat?”

“When I need to. Being malnourished and away from people for a while will do that to you. I never left since… since I decided to call this home.”

“Why not?”

“I like it too much.”

“Like what?”

“Never mind that,” Joe replied. “Quit grilling me and eat up.”

After Chris munched on the quail a bit, he spoke again, “Not bad. Not bad at all. You know, I kind of like this. Peeling back the wings and everything was weird at first, but I’m a strange guy, and I think you are, too. Just the way the Good Lord made us, right?”

Joe’s pale face soured. “No. That’s the depravity of man. The fall. You know, Garden of Eden. The whole sin shebang.” He picked a shred of the bird’s flesh from his teeth.

“That’s one way to look at it,” Chris said, taking a sip from the pewter cup.

This stuff tastes odd. Thought it was just water.

“Well, let’s get to work,” Joe said. “I want to do more in here. The city doesn’t even acknowledge the tunnels anymore. What a failure to Old Town Riverton, not to mention the associated expense of keeping the unworthy dodos out. The outer entry points are sealed, and I’ve never been bothered. You came down the street level’s only way in. There are other ways out, though. The doors only open one way, and they’re engaged from the inside out, masked and hidden away. There are a lot of areas to spread out. It’s not just straight lines either — there are little passageways throughout the place engineered to minimize flooding… you know, that sort of thing. I’m making modifications to it. I intend to exploit people in town to get the supplies I need. You know, the various things I’d like to have — to tweak and make this place more enjoyable. They won’t know the difference, just ignorant imbeciles. That’s all they are.”

“You intend to exploit them? It seems to me like you’re well on your way already.” Chris dropped the pewter cup to the floor. “Hang on a minute. From all you’re telling me, you’ve been here for years. Why haven’t you made more progress?”

“Calm down. I’m not comfortable talking about my time in purgatory. He wouldn’t… I couldn’t do what I wanted for those years. Let’s just leave it at that.”

What are you talking about?

“Purgatory? You dead? Because last I checked… I’m not,” Chris said.

“I’m not going to discuss that with you any further. Now, about my tunnel…”

Chris interrupted as he looked around for an exit, “Okay. Look, I’m sorry I’ve upset you. What about more lights? It’s too dark. I’m guessing you must see a lot better than me or something. I can see you’re into the whole hermit in the ground motif. I hate to break it to you, man, but you’re not the first.”

I’ve got to get out of here now.

The glow in Joe’s eyes brightened. “Thanks for noticing. I do see well,” he said. “I really do. I don’t like it bright. There ain’t no one that wants to see these pores any brighter than they are. I’ve got a new vision for this tunnel now while I pay off the rest of my penance.”

“Penance?”

“I’m challenged to collect a specific group of lesser people to make up for the sins of my past.”

Chris furrowed his brow. “Lesser? You mean like the indigent and the destitute? Or something else?”

“Think more in terms of purposeless people because of life’s unexpected setbacks.”

“You’re speaking as if you’re expecting me to help,” Chris said. “What’s it to me? Is that fair to me, God, or Satan, or whoever the hell your master is? Are we partners now?”

Joe stared at Chris. “Is that what you want? I swear I’ll make your business something special if you want me to. Shake on it?”

I can’t control it. He keeps luring me in. Sad thing is, I drank the kool-aid, too. I’m just enamored by the mystique. Get cautious, before it’s too late. There goes my right hand, anyway.

The two shook hands, and the tunnel thundered with a loud clap as Joe clawed into Chris’s wrist with his unkempt fingernails.

“Ah, shit! You cut me.”

“Total accident,” Joe said. “Here, let’s wring the blood out in this pewter cup. It’ll stop before you know it. Would you look at that? It’s filling up quick. Let me just run this over here and get another. I’ll be right back.” Joe disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel.

The date of Chris and Joe’s peculiar union was October 29th, 1982.

Joe returned with two pewter cups. He handed one to Chris and he sipped