Paste story IN HTML hereThey were just kids, old enough to know better, young enough to be susceptible to dares.
Bryan moved from the “wilds of Montana” and always talked about adventure – swinging from ropes in the haymow, canoe trips, even caves. Cody and Nick got sick of hearing about it, said the city had plenty to offer. But they said such while throwing pennies at the grate of Cody’s air conditioner on a pointless August day.
They had to move fast. The city workers left the cones up, and the little barricades, but essentially abandoned the manhole during lunch. All they needed were flashlights and a piece of chalk to mark their path.
Nick was the most scared. He kept talking about animals.
Bryan urged them on, saying there couldn’t be anything in the sewers worse than Montana. He’s talking bears, mountain lions, wolves.
Cody said there were alligators and giant python. People flushed their pets. You know where those end up. They eat the rats, grow huge, and treat the sewers like concrete everglades.
They walked for over an hour without seeing one hint of an urban reptile. But when they returned, the manhole was closed.
“This isn’t the right one,” Cody claimed.
“Yes, it is.” Bryan pointed to the chalk mark.
“Did you hear something?”