The Tunnel Rat
The scraping sound belongs to a stocky woman in oil-stained overalls, holding a dented gas lantern. She squints at you through the flickering light. "Another tunnel rat?" she growls. "Name's Marta. And this blockage didn't happen by accident."
Her jaw is tight with fury. She jabs a calloused finger at a nearby pipe — the metal is warped and deliberately bent inward, like someone knew exactly where to strike. Someone planned this.
Marta knows these tunnels — but she also knows more about the saboteur than she's letting on.
Start Over