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After an exhausting shift at the Top-Dollar convenience store, Brad was finally heading home to rest.
"Need you in earlier tomorrow, probably around 7:30. Sheryl gave me the word to move some merchandise around. Gonna need help moving some coolers, that okay?"
Butch wasn't an amazing manager, but Brad appreciated that he tried to level with him about the schedule.
"Yeah. Sunday I've got exam group prep for most of the day, so I'll be taking PTO. I uh- put it on the calendar Monday."
Butch swept carelessly around the checkout mat. He then bent down and picked up some straggler candy bars from the floor and replied,
"Yep, I remember. See you in the mornin'."
Brad blissfully extended his left arm towards the plains. His fingers danced across the roadside grass. Work still loomed in the morning, but Brad was glad Friday was finally done. A hefty breeze pulled his hair upwards as moonlight bounced down through clouds above. His home lied just outside the city limits of Davenport. It was a 20-minute walk between his humble home and the inner city. On weekdays, Brad attends Davenport City College as a sophmore.
On weekends, he mains cashier at Davenport's own Top-Dollar convenience store. If he gets off early from his shift, he may pop by Yoko's Noodle House (just across the street! His buddy Henry hooks him up with an employee discount) to order a to-go Pork Ramen Bowl. Unfortunately, Yoko's Noodle House was temporarily closed at the moment. A worn piece of white paper was poorly taped to the front entrance door. It reads as follows:
CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS
After a measley 10 minutes into his homeward bound stroll, Brad paused for a cigarette at Moore's Crossing. As his hand dipped into his pocket for a lighter, he peered over the parapet. The glow of a nearby street lamp glow revealed the bridge's true height above the the stream of water below. He caressed the cigarette with his fingers and struck the lighter with his thumb. The flame was hesitant. He struck the lighter again. Nothing.
"Really, come on-"
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed in the distance. Brad nervously dropped his cigarette. He turned to face the direction of the noise. It came from upstream. Suddenly, a young woman's screams rang into the sky. The wind's howling stopped. The moon hid behind the clouds. The grasses stood straight. Brad breathed heavily and shivered. He darted down the bridge's stone staircase and followed a muddy path along the brook. His pace started as walking but gradually evolved into a hefty sprint. The young woman's screams loosened into thick cries. Brad pushed onwards into the darkness.
He soon discovered the entrance to an underground tunnel. It was very narrow, and a rusty door guarded the entryway. He grabbed handle and tugged. The old metal door creaked and groaned with anger. It wouldn't move. The young woman's cries grew louder. Brad left the handle, lunged back, and rushed into the door with brute force.
The impact snapped the metal hinge, and Brad fell inwards. His body tossed over the door and rolled downward onto a steep muddy slope. Unable to stop his momentum, he tumbled deeper into the confines of the abandoned tunnel. With a sharp thud, the mayhem stopped. He had reached a dry concrete path. Brad slowly stood up, leaning against the tunnel's wall. The darkness was profound inside the tunnel, and the young woman's cries for help lingered closer than before.