The air smelled terrible, it was cold, and whatever Jason was laying on felt like bedrock sanded just smooth enough to pretend to be a sleepable surface. On the flip side, the air wasn’t clogging his throat like he thought it would by now; he wasn’t freezing cold, and he was lying down when the nausea and dizziness ascended on him like dogs to a corpse. And, you know…he wasn’t dead. That was a plus.

“Yer alive!” Liam howled, his voice echoing in whatever foul place he brought Jason. “Never doubted you fer a second!”

Jason could only groan in reply, the pain in his head rising and his parched throat screaming.

“Now, I did halfta bind up that arm of yers with something and, uh…” Liam looked to where Jason’s arms were resting along his side. The suit was torn open near every gaping wound along the sleeves, gloves barely fitted over whatever bandaging Liam had done.

No wonder there was such a frigid breeze crawling up Jason’s skin.

“You understand you’ve just prolonged my inevitable death, right,” Jason croaked. His throat was so dry.

Liam immediately frowned at that. “You Dirt Diggers always underestimate us. I done save more of yer kind than I can count, an’ I ain’t the only one, neither.”

Jason felt only slightly guilty for his assumptions. Key word being slightly.

“None you think we know what we’re doin’ even though we done grew up out ‘ere. An’ it makes you look stupid.”

Amusement flickered in Jason’s gut. Well, that’s fair. Still… “Not to discredit you,” he continued, wincing as he attempted to sit up. Liam, despite having been offended, immediately offered his aide. “But us Dirt Diggers don’t last long up here when we’re prepared. I am very clearly unprepared, and I have literally no experience—”

“Details,” Liam interrupted, waving off Jason’s fears. “I got a secret place. Somewhere warm fer you and yer soft skin.”

Soft skin?

Then he saw it. Rare as it was, people up top had started adapting to their elements. Most of the adaptations came with disabilities—Liam’s blindness, for example—but did a lot to protect them from the cold and, more importantly, the storms.

The patterns ranged from minor to all-encompassing. Liam’s scarred down the left side of his face, over his eye, and up into his scalp. Parted the chocolate brown locks that were tied off to the right side of his head in a thick bun. His left hand was also covered in the wrinkled plates layered expertly over every inch of his skin, though his right was shielded with a thick glove. He also… wasn’t wearing a mask.

“How are you even breathing,” Jason asked, completely missing whatever else Liam had been saying.

Liam quirked a brow, his eyes widening. Thoughts were swirling in his gray-green eyes as he rested his chin on his folded hand in contemplation. “Don’ know,” is his answer.

“You don’t know? You can’t tell me how the hell your throat isn’t coated in soot?”

There was a nasty phenomenon regarding people who breathed in the air without a mask. Soot-rot. A deadly infection that killed anyone within a few hours if they didn’t get treated. Even thinking about it gave Jason the shivers.

“It is,” Liam immediately admitted. “I cough alotta it up, though. Kinda, well, shiet. Don’ know how to explain myself real well….”

“You just…cough it up?” This was insane! Soot-rot wouldn’t even be a thing if you could just cough it up.

“Yeah!” Liam replied, a sudden smile splitting his expression. Then his right brow jumped in excitement. Jason only now realized that Liam’s left brow didn’t move at all, stuck in place by the scaling. “Mucus! That’s what it’s like. Just nasty stuff ya gotta get outta yer system.”

Mucus was the exact reason soot-rot was a thing. It made no sense.

Rubbing his temples, Jason finally moved his eyes to take in his surroundings. The room was tiny, probably more of a storage closet than a room. All the doors were sealed from the inside with buffers to keep out the cold, and a small lantern seemed to be the only thing providing any heat. Liam sat with only the clothing he met Jason in, but Jason, now learning that his feet were caught in something, realized that blankets and pillows and even a few plastic bags had been carefully laid over him as he slept.

“You do this?” he asked that dumb question.

Liam nodded, his bright smile never wavering. “Course! Can’ have my patient dyin’ to the Bite, ya know!”

Jason couldn’t stop the smile that pulled on his lips. The sun didn’t shine down on Earth anymore, locked away behind the shroud of the constant haze. Most of the last two generations only ever heard stories of it, bright and yellow and warm. But, even if Jason had never seen it, he felt like Liam’s personality would match its power.

“Okay, welp,” Liam continued. “Time to getchu outta ‘ere. I gotta place. Somewhere safe and warm, like I done said already, but it’s also,” a glint of excitement sparkled in his eyes, “free of soot.”

Jason felt his eyes widen and nearly bulge out of his head. He was actually kind of angry that Liam had the audacity to lie to him like that. “No way a place like that exists out here.”

Liam met Jason’s hostility with a soft snicker and that warm, beaming smile of his. “It’s ’cause it’s a secret! Just you be lucky I’mma show it to ya. Not just anybody gets to see ole Liam’s abode. But yer special, I think.”

Jason rapidly blinked his eyes at the sudden—unwarranted—compliment. “And how am I special?” he asked, genuinely curious as to what this strange kid from up top meant by that.

It surprised him when Liam’s eyes darkened, and his smile dampened. “’Cause not many Cavern kids git outta Camillo rings like you did.” A far-off look seemed to take hold of him as the smile completely faded. “I done seen lotta you git dumped in places kids shouldn’ halfta be….”

And then Jason remembered Liam’s earlier words. “We don’ git yer kind ’round here all that much….”

Jason didn’t think Liam meant the kids sneaking out of the Caverns to see what crazy shit was above the surface. No. Liam meant escapees.