Betty noted the size of the opening. “Looks like it would be a tight squeeze.”
Finn noted how loose several of the blocks surrounding the opening appeared to be. “Stand back,” he warned. With surprisingly little effort Finn pushed blocks forward until they fell off the wall, opening a space that could be easily traversed by the Hillmans and himself.
Standing at the newly widened entrance, Finn immediately noticed the cold breeze rushing from the tunnel. Sound was carrying strangely as their chatter at the entrance produced a far-off echo with an eerie quality. Finn found the sounds of dripping and sometimes running water combined with the damp, cold darkness a suitable backdrop for a horror movie.
George and Betty produced large, powerful flashlights from their backpacks. Finn activated the flashlight feature on his iPhone. The three explorers stepped inside the newly illuminated tunnel. Finn noticed numerous alcove type indentions along one side of the tunnel. The remnants of old electrical junctions populated these spaces. Finn slowly moved his light along the length of a huge graffiti tag covering an entire wall. “I guess we weren’t the first people here,” he announced. The Hillmans did not respond. Finn felt bad for making the remark that likely crushed their feeling of discovery. He tried to make up for his callousness with humor. “Don’t feel bad. Vandals know about all the secret spots in New York City.”
The illumination of the flashlights made it easy for Finn to follow the Hillmans down the now brightly illuminated tunnel. Finn noticed two roads. On the right side of the tunnel was an elevated path approximately three feet wide. This path was bordered by the same type railing that had led to the tunnel entrance. Adjacent and below the walking path was the much wider horse path. As the flashlights illuminated the arced walls and roof overhead, Finn could see the rough overlay of crumbling concrete and multitudes of water stains. The horse path beneath his feet was hard packed and graveled.
About a hundred yards into the tunnel, Finn was beginning to question his decision. The novelty of the Hillmans and the tunnel had worn off. In terms of "sightseeing", the tunnel didn’t provide much. Besides the graffiti, Finn noticed an ample number of hypodermic needles spread throughout.
The Hillmans were still ecstatic with their discovery. As they moved through the tunnel, George continued the history lesson. “There was a reason the roads around here were called parkways. There was a park on the side. They contained a bridle path, bike path and a hiking path. They originally ran the length of the parkways. Financial crisis of the 60s and 70s caused the city to end the maintenance on them. It became a nuisance and was sealed up in the 70s.”
They had walked cautiously for at least ten minutes. Finn was the first to notice it in the distance. “Look!” he blurted. “Light!”
George nodded. “Yup, that must be the other end of this tunnel.”
Finn arrived at the light source first. There were only two missing blocks providing the light path. The view through the small open space revealed only weeds. Finn warned the Hillmans back while he tested the surrounding blocks. They were as loose as the blocks on the other side, and very quickly Finn had opened a hole large enough for them to crawl through.
Pushing through the weeds was like entering a new world. Finn stood in between George and Betty at the top of a hill and gazed downward. The dominating feature of the scenery that caught Finn’s eye was the sign - ANGELINA’S.
“Angelina’s has the best Italian food in Queens,” George opined.
Finn was confused. “Where the hell are we?”
“Union Turnpike,” George responded. “It’s amazing. That tunnel passed under two parkways. It must have run for almost a mile.”
“Ready to go back, Finn?” Betty asked.
“Sure.” Finn was flexing his leg, trying to remember that this exercise was supposed to be good for his knee.
When they were all back inside the tunnel, George made a sweep with his flashlight before they began the return trip. When his light hit the east wall adjacent to the footpath, Finn called out. “What’s that?”
George’s light had stopped on a three-foot square opening in the wall. There were remnants of a long gone grating around the perimeter of the opening. George rubbed his chin while keeping the light on the opening. “It looks like some type of old vent or drain.” George shined his light directly into the opening. “Holy cow! The vent looks like it runs for at least five hundred feet.” George turned to Finn with a twinkle in his eye. “You want to crawl down the vent, Finn?”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Maybe another day.”
Chapter 11: What You Don’t Know May Hurt You
May 20th
Finn lay on his back, his body completely at rest. The beautiful figure straddled him, her silk panties rubbing slowly and suggestively against his crotch. She threw her long dark hair back and stared into Finn’s eyes. Carmen was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – more beautiful than the night he met her with Kevin.
Slowly, she moved her face closer to his. Finn could feel her warm breath against his face. He never wanted to leave his bed. Finn stared into the eyes of this beauty, but something was wrong. His feeling of total relaxation was gone. Carmen’s face began to distort. Her sexy whispers had transitioned into guttural groans in a language not known to him.
Carmen was hissing and spitting and she took-on snake like qualities in both her body language and her face. She kept rolling her eyes, and let out an incredible scream. A pointed, red tongue shot out from her reptilian mouth and brushed back and forth across Finn’s face. He tried to push her away, but her hands found their way to Finn’s neck.
Finn’s consciousness was trying to convince him this was a nightmare, but he could feel his breath leaving him. This nightmare was so real. Finn was panicking because it felt as if he might die from the hands around his neck. Finn desperately tried to wake up, screaming for help, yet nobody came. He left his bedroom on his hands and knees. Carmen had disappeared, but he still felt that he was being choked. Finn clawed his way to the stairs. Soon, he had a feeling that Carmen was still in his house, and that he may have been given some sort of drug to make everything he saw appear real. Finn asked himself if his house looked right. Were there any clues to tell him that he wasn’t standing in his living room with Carmen hissing at him from the couch? And there in the corner of the room was a Christmas tree, bare of any ornaments. Christmas was months ago. Finn knew there was no tree in his house.
Finn was trying to grasp consciousness. This had to be a nightmare, didn’t it? Suddenly, Finn was awake in his bed, his brain feeling shot through and coughing as if he had just been choked. He sat up in the bed shaking. It was the most intense nightmare he ever had and Finn was never gladder to see the light of day.
Finn was having difficulty concentrating. Gladys had left no indications of priorities on his call back sheet, and she was AWOL, as usual. Based on the scanty notes she made, Finn needed to figure out who to call first. His mind refused to focus on the call back list. It kept drifting back to that dream. He shook his head, took a deep breath and looked out the window to Woodhaven Boulevard. That dream had really shaken him - it seemed so real. It was also unnerving that he remembered every detail of the dream so vividly. Whenever he did recall a dream, the memory of it was usually gone within an hour of waking. Why was this dream staying with him? Finn recalled a psychology class in college that dealt with dreams. The professor had said that the dreams that you remember the longest are the ones that cause you fear and anxiety. He shook his head again. Was he letting Kevin and all this demon and devil crap get to him?
With no insights available in his secretary-free office, Finn decided to put his exercise in concentration on hold and visit what he hoped would be a more positive setting - the tranquil environment of the late morning pub. Finn's anxiety was not eased when he pushed through the door and noticed the garlic still suspended from the curtain rod. He noticed a couple of other things that were not part of the usual late morning pub sce
nery. First, there was someone already drinking at the bar. Finn approached from behind and slapped the drinker on the back. "What's up Pete?"
To be generous, Finn would describe Pete Hennessey as an elderly boozehound who lived around the corner. Pete frequented all the bars within walking distance, which was very fortunate since Pete seemed to be in a constant state of intoxication. Finn didn't know what schedule Pete maintained, but obviously, The Shamrock was in his rotation, as he would show up hunched over the bar at least a couple of times a week in the late morning and early afternoon.
Pete stared down at his glass. "Same shit, differed day," he grunted.
Finn rolled his eyes. "Good to see you too, Pete."
Finn's view of the basement door provided a second anomaly to the usual morning routine. Kevin emerged from the basement being followed by another figure, and it wasn't a demon - It was Meg. Finn focused on her as she carried a box of supplies into the dining room. Suddenly, he wasn't bothered by the dream. Why was he continuing to keep this girl at arm’s length? Meg was a beautiful person. She wasn't a classic beauty, but she was pretty enough. What impressed Finn most about Meg was her caring nature. It was like God had planted a seed of perfect caring in her soul. She cared for all - humans, animals and the environment.
Meg's eyes lit up when she noticed Finn at the bar. "Hey!" she waved. "Come back here and keep me company while I set tables."
Finn began to make his move as Kevin appeared behind the bar. "Morning, Finbar. What's up?"
"Not much," Finn replied. "I was just shooting the breeze with old Pete."
"Better you than me," Kevin groaned. "I don't like talking to that nasty old Polish prick."
Finn did a double take. "Polish? Pete's not Polish - he's Irish."
"Duh," Kevin blurted. "I think Witkowski is a Polish name, don't you?"
Finn looked down the bar toward Pete and then back to Kevin. "I thought his name was Hennessey?"
"We call him Pete Hennessey because all he drinks is Hennessey." Kevin noticed Meg wave again. "Don't stop for me, you better hurry back to where you were summoned."
Finn waved a dismissive hand at Kevin. He began walking from the bar, but then stopped and turned back. He placed his right index finger on his temple as if in deep thought. "So, I guess your name is actually Kevin Sambuca." Finn dodged the bar towel as he continued to the dining room. He was glad to see that Kevin seemed to be back to normal, and was not ranting about demons and devils.
"Hey, Finn." Meg was beaming
"Hey, Meg." Finn could see Meg begin to strain her neck and stand on her toes. He took the non-verbal cues and planted a polite kiss on her lips. Finn looked around the dining room. "What's happening today?"
Meg unfolded a tablecloth. "Retirement luncheon for a police officer."
"What precinct?" Finn asked.
"Not sure," Meg replied as she moved on to the next tablecloth and table.
"Do you need any help?" Finn asked.
"That's sweet," she smiled, "But, no. I got it covered. Meg stopped in the middle of unfolding a table cloth and turned to Finn. "By the way, I almost forgot to tell you. We're having a big party for Katy next week and I hope you're going to come with me."
"Sure," Finn shrugged. "What's the occasion?"
"Baby sister Katy is turning sixteen, and she talked my parents into a big sweet sixteen party." Meg shook her head. "These parties get more and more extravagant. I think we played pin the tail on the donkey at my sixteenth."
Finn chuckled. "Where's the party?"
"Some Italian restaurant in Bayside that my parents like. I'll let you know all the details. I just want to make sure you'll go with me."
"Of course, I will," Finn smiled.
Finn and Meg locked eyes. The moment called for something more than a polite peck, but the chemistry was broken by a frantic plea from the bar.
"FINBAR! come over here, right now."
The fearful quality in Kevin's voice resulted in Finn almost tripping over a chair as he sprinted to the bar. Finn did not want to regress to the prior scene at the bar, but as he approached his friend, there was only one way to describe Kevin's expression. He looked like he had seen a ghost. "What's wrong?" Finn exclaimed.
Kevin pointed to the end of the bar.
Finn observed only old Pete slumped over his whiskey. "What?" Finn was confused.
Meg had left the dining room. "Is anything wrong?"
"No, no. Just Kevin being a jerk. Go back to the table set ups." Finn turned back to Kevin. "Now, what the hell is your problem?"
“Mee gloo-tos vee-an an-ee-mon!” Kevin blurted
"Have you finally lost it completely?" Finn commented.
Kevin pointed to Pete. "That's what he said."
"Who?"
"Pete!" Kevin yelled.
Finn tried to maintain some sense of decorum. "OK, just calm down and tell me what happened."
Kevin took a deep breath. "I'm wiping down the bar, and I look over and see that Pete is asleep on the stool. That's nothing new but I see he's drooling on the bar. I just wiped the bar down, so I go over and tap him on the shoulder and tell him not to drool on my bar."
"That's it?" Finn questioned.
"Not quite," Kevin gasped. "When I tell him not to drool, Pete turns his head quicker than I've ever seen him move. His eyes were wide open and were bright red, like a fire. Then he said it."
"Said what?" Finn asked.
"Those words I already said. In this gravelly raspy voice that sounded nothing like Pete he said Mee gloo-tos vee-an an-ee-mon!”
"Calm down," Finn cautioned. "Maybe he was just trying to clear his throat."
"Yeah, right!" Kevin scoffed.
Finn walked down the bar. "Hey Pete. Is everything alright?"
Pete remained focused on his whiskey. "Same shit, different day."
Finn looked toward Kevin. "See." He pulled his iPhone out as he walked back to Kevin. "Just to further show you there's nothing going on here, tell me those words again."
Kevin thought for a moment. " Mee gloo-tos vee-an an-ee-mon!"
Finn tapped the google app. "Sounds like it may be Latin"
Finn tapped the screen again.. "I was right, it is Latin. Its "Mi glutos vian animon!"
Kevin's voice was still excited "Come on, what’s it mean?"
"Let's see," Finn focused on the screen as he waited for the page to load. "This is much to do about nothing, I'm sure." Finn's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
"What's wrong?" The pace of Kevin's voice was increasing in urgency. "Tell me! What does it mean?"
Finn was too stunned to express any emotion. In a very even tone he said. "I'll swallow your soul!"
"That's it!" Kevin threw his hands in the air. "That ghoul is gonna get me! All I did was report him for killing chickens, and now he's going to torment my life with demons. And after he was screwing my date on stage in front of a crowd. I should be sending demons after him."
"Calm down," Finn was trying allay Kevin's fears while masking his own. "Pete doesn't remember what he did five minute ago. He was probably telling you to screw off, or something like that, and it just happened to sound like those Latin words."
Kevin was breathing heavily. "Is that what you really think, Finbar?"
Finn was becoming annoyed at having to sooth his friend while dealing with his own anxiety. "Well, what's the alternative, genius. Accept the fact that there are demons flying around this pub. I can't wait till Pete gets back from Aruba. I want to be there when he asks you if there's anything new and you say 'Not much, Pete, just a few demons have taken up residence in the pub.'" Finn took a couple of deep breaths. "Oh, and by the way, I don't think your garlic is working."
Kevin sat on a stool and shook his head. "This isn't funny, Finn. I think I'm losing my mind over this."
Finn sat on the adjacent stool and slapped his friends back. "Well, at least you don't have much of a mind to lose."
Kevin shot Finn an angry look.
Finn put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "I know, I know - not funny - sorry."
Kevin put his elbows on the bar and buried his face in his hands. "I know I seem like I'm going off the deep end with this stuff, but it's all building up on me, including that dream I had last night."
Finn's attention perked. "What dream?"
"It was friggin terrifying, it was so real. I was laying there in bed and all of a sudden Carmen was on top of me looking oh so sexy. Just when I think we're gonna have sex, she starts choking me and turns into some kind of snake." Kevin grabbed his neck. "It was just so real I woke up coughing trying to catch my breath - just like I had been choked."
Finn was speechless. He stared at a scratch in the wood on the bar.
"What's the matter? You're not gonna tell me that it's silly to get worked up over a dream?"
Finn continued to stare at the bar.
"What's wrong with you, Finbar?"
Slowly, Finn turned to face Kevin. His voice was even and measured. "I had the same dream last night."
"Oh my God!" Kevin's eyes were moist. "What are we gonna do?"
Finn snapped out of his fearful trance and tried to get into problem solving mode. "Don't tell Meg anything about this. I'm gonna call Chris.
The opening door and flash of street light startled Finn and Kevin. Two middle age men in suits headed directly for the dining room. “Looks like your luncheon is starting to arrive,” Finn commented. He placed his hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Now, get a grip on yourself until we get this figured out. Chris will know what to do.”
Finn stepped out to the sidewalk on Woodhaven Boulevard. He took a couple of deep deliberate breaths in the midday air. He wanted to clear his head and collect his thoughts before calling Chris Moritz. Finn pulled his phone from its holder and began to swipe through his contacts. Before he could locate Chris’s number, a voice from down the sidewalk interrupted his progress.
“Hey, it’s Delaney!” The voice sounded very jovial. Finn turned toward the voice and was horrified. He would rather have been facing a demon, but instead, a smiling Rocco Gentile was approaching.
The Demon Within Page 13
