Water dripped. The clang of metal echoed through the empty space as the elderly woman descended into the darkness, the hand of a young man guiding her path. She stepped onto the concrete floor and the man followed in suit, moving much more nimbly. The unlikely pair stood there a moment, the echoes of sloshing water the only sound to accompany them in the tunnel. The man had long become accustomed to the revolting stench emmanating from their surroundings, but it was always still enough to make his stomach turn. They must not have a sense of smell, he mused to himself, watching the old woman's contented face. Lucky her. "It's this way," he said, the soft words sounding loud in the space. He took her hand, light and fragile, in his own, and began walking down the concrete path.