Our footsteps echo eerily as we swarm through the old subway station. I stare around in fascination, but I don’t have time to see much. It’s clear that Agatha wants to get off the street and into a safe place.
I hurry to catch up with her as we’re rushed into the tunnel, where we follow a set of tracks even further underground.
“Were you waiting for us at the Holland Tunnel entrance?” I ask suspiciously.
It seems like too much of a coincidence that we came out right where the rebels were standing. Not when they guard themselves so well.
“Yes,” Agatha confirms.
I can see Wolfe’s hand drop to his weapon.
“Dr. Summers told us you would be coming. We suspected you would come through the tunnel, but I had people at several key points around the city in case you turned up somewhere else.”
“Sheela is here?” I ask excitedly.
Agatha shakes her head. “She’s being kept at the prison.”
“Then how did you speak to her to find out we would be coming?” I demand.
Agatha gives me a look that tells me I’m less intelligent than she originally thought. “We are the underground,” she says as if that explains everything. “We have eyes and ears all over this city. We knew the moment Sheela Summers arrived in this Sanctuary.”
I’m impressed by the tenacity and coordination of New York’s underground rebels.
“How many of you are there?”
“I don’t know.” She hurries on, and I have to run to keep up with her. It’s obvious she feels vulnerable to attack. What I want to know is who she’s afraid of, Primitives or humans?
“How can you not know?” I demand, coming alongside her again.
I have to squint in the tunnel's darkness. A few of Agatha’s people have lanterns to help lead us, but here, at the front of the pack, Agatha seems to be guided by instinct, memory or a combination of the two.
Agatha makes an aggrieved sound and turns to me, slowing her strides. “There are many people in the underground. We are only one group. The tunnels are a vast system and while some are uninhabitable, most are in use by people who have reason to avoid the Sanctuary police force.”
“Women,” I say, knowing that was the reason Sheela and the others had gone into hiding and finally left to find a new Sanctuary.
She nods. “And allies. LGBTQIA citizens. Men who don’t want to see their daughters and wives persecuted. Anyone who doesn’t conform to the aboveground.”
I follow in silence for a few minutes, contemplating what life underground must look like. Cold, dark, dank. Living without seeing the sun every day. I’d spent half of my life living in a forest in Old Canada and the other half travelling through the desert and living in the south. I can’t imagine a life without light.
As if answering my unspoken question, Agatha says, “Sheela would come to us and treat us when we were sick. Since we’re forced to live underground, it’s not always easy to keep everyone healthy.”
“I understand,” I murmur.
“I’m in her debt.”
Agatha doesn’t sound pleased to be in Sheela’s debt. As though she’d rather not have to help us, but an inner code is telling her she must. I realize that guiding us safely through the city to our doctor is repayment of the debt Agatha feels she owes.
Wolfe comes up alongside me, his brows lowered and his lips pressed into a scowl. He takes my arm and slows, so only I hear him when he speaks in a low voice. “Not sure we should blindly follow these people.”
Normally, I would agree. “Tabby said it’s okay.”
“How well does she know these people?”
I chew my lip and admit, “I’m thinking she might not know them as well as I’d hoped.” I look over at Wolfe. “But what are we supposed to do? We came here without an actual plan and only Tabby as a guide. We need all the help we can get.”
“So we continue on,” Wolfe says grimly.
“Yes.”
I slide my hand into his, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze. I grin into the darkness as I feel a tiny hand fill my other one. Nova. The three of us walk together, several feet behind Agatha.
I don’t see the barrier as we reach it and almost walk into a stone wall built onto the tracks we’d been following. As my eyes continue to adjust to the darkness, I realize the rebels must’ve built it. Off to the side is a door, which Agatha taps on in a pattern. When it opens, she slips through, saying, “C’mon, we’re almost there.”
As I step through, I realize exactly how vast Agatha’s underground is, and why she has no idea how many people live there.
Just past the wall is a mini version of our wall security, with people standing guard and razor wire filling the area. If the wall is brought down, then there’s a second wave of defense before the underground community is breached.
As we pass through the secure section, we begin to see the faces of regular citizens, including children. Nova gasps and points at a child who is clinging to his mother’s hand and watching us curiously while he chews on his fingernails. His mother is standing at what looks like a food booth, bartering.
I twist around to watch the exchange but get caught up in the next group of people who are playing music and dancing. I’m surprised at their lightheartedness, but they look at ease and content.
“I had no idea this existed,” I murmur as we pass so many people my head spins. Then I gasp out loud as something else catches my eye.
A Primitive in a cage. I nearly shove Nova behind my back and pull my weapon, but I realize the creature has been beaten and starved nearly to death. It sits huddled in the corner of its cage, listless. I’ve never encountered a Primitive that didn’t immediately try to attack. I take a step closer, but I’m pulled up short when Agatha steps in front of me.
“Keep moving,” she snaps. “You’re here against my better judgment. It goes against everything we believe in to invite Sanctuary guards into our tunnels. I’m doing this as a favour, but I want you out as soon as possible.”
She hurries away, the expectation that we follow heavy in the air.
“She’s a bowl full of sunshine, isn’t she?” I mutter, gripping Nova harder now that I know there are Primitives being kept in the tunnel. We hurry after Agatha.
“I’m sorry,” Tabatha says quietly, coming up alongside me. “This isn’t the Underground I remember. Agatha has always been a hardass, but this is different. I’m not sure what I’ve gotten us into.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t know, and this isn’t your fault. We need help getting to Sheela and this is it. I don’t care how unpleasant they are as long as we get our doctor back.”
Tabatha stays close to us as we take a left and follow Agatha down another tunnel, this one even deeper than the last, with fewer citizens clogging the way. I notice boxes, bits of wood and plastic sheets to create a housing system lining each wall. My heart aches as I compare this poor setup to the luxury of our palace apartment in Santa Fe.
Perhaps one day, the Sanctuary above will find its way to treating its citizens like equals so these people might live aboveground once more. Maybe wishful thinking, but it’s probably all they have.
Finally, Agatha stops in front of a door built into the wall of a tunnel. She looks back at us before pushing it open. “We think this room was once used to maintain ventilation throughout the tunnels.”
“Was wondering how you breathe underground,” Wolfe mutters.
“There are ventilation shafts throughout the tunnel system, though many aren’t in use. We maintain them, but we’re at the mercy of old systems that break down sometimes and the Sanctuary above. If they shut them down, we would have to leave quickly or suffocate.”
“It seems risky to live here, doesn’t it?” I point out.
She shrugs and steps to the side, allowing us to pass through the door. “Better than being forced to assimilate into their Sanctuary or being expelled out into the wild where we’ll be hunted by the Primitives. We do what we mu
st.”
The room is small and dank, but it’s private. Chairs ring the room, and we all sit. Agatha stands to the side, leaning against the stone wall and staring at us like she wishes we would all just die and leave her in peace. Several of her people have come into the room with us and I’m relieved to see them speaking with our people. Kingston seems to be having an in-depth conversation with another man about the differences in security.
“Now,” Agatha says loudly. “Let’s figure out how to get you out to Riker’s so you can rescue your doctor and get the hell off my island.”
Thirty-Three
We hike from Agatha’s underground town to the edge of the island, using the tunnel system. As we walk, Agatha explains that the city forces and citizens rarely enter the tunnels. The subway stopped working in 2022 and has been abandoned ever since, except for the people who refuse to conform to city rules.
Despite her apathy toward us, Agatha is forthcoming with information. She describes the various islands and their inhabitants. According to her, Staten Island is overrun with Primitives, so few people actually live there. When the Warlord of New York expels someone from the city, they aren’t set free, they’re sent to Staten island.
Long Island also belongs to the Warlord and is where some of his elite citizens live, having taken over the homes belonging to the wealthy of the early 21st century.
The Warlord, his family and his second-in-command, Malachi, live in a high-rise overlooking central park.
Riker’s island is where the Warlord keeps the people he arrests but doesn’t expel from the city. According to Agatha, anywhere between 200-400 people live there at any point. She explains that there’s an entire facility dedicated to women who refuse to conform to the Warlord’s laws, but that Sheela’s being kept by herself in a separate building.
She stops every few turns in the tunnel to spray paint a yellow X on the wall to help us find our way back after we’ve rescued the doctor. Though she’s set up a liaison on the island for us, Wolfe and I are to go it alone most of the way there and back. Agatha explains that the fewer people moving through restricted areas, the less likely we are to be caught. She’s right, though I feel vulnerable without my guards, especially Kingston.
Wolfe is a solid presence at my side. His quiet confidence reassures me. He won’t let anything happen to us.
“Here,” Agatha says as we stop on the tracks next to a platform.
I lift my lantern and look around, catching sight of a sign built into the wall reading 72 Street Station.
“The entrance is filled with debris, so the city force rarely checks down here, but you can climb out through there,” she points, and I see a small, person sized hole in the crumbling concrete. I look at Wolfe’s broad shoulders sceptically. It would suck to make it this far just to be crushed by falling concrete.
“We’ll manage,” I say drily.
She ignores me and continues, “Go straight east until you reach the river, about three blocks. You’ll see a walkway next to the river, follow it north until you find the boat.”
Without another word, she leaves, walking swiftly down the tracks and disappearing into the darkness.
“I think I hate that woman,” I mutter to Wolfe, who climbs onto the platform. I reach up to take his hand, and he lifts me onto the platform next to him. “I don’t like leaving Nova, Tabitha and the others down here with her.”
Wolfe grunts. “She has nothing to gain by killing them.”
Trust Wolfe to cut through to the point. He’s right. If she wanted us all dead, she wouldn’t have invited us into her underground hideaway. She’s taking a risk by allowing us to see where she and her people live.
“I don’t like it. She can’t be trusted.”
“Agreed,” Wolfe mutters, using the bulk of his muscular weight to shift a concrete block, enlarging the hole we’ll have to climb through. “You go first.”
I extinguish my lantern and set it on the ground, blinking several times. It’s pitch black, but I can see a little light coming from above the tunnel. It will help guide us out. Still, as I crawl into the hole and start climbing, I have a nearly overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia. I barely dare to breathe as concrete presses in all around me, just shy of suffocating.
I bite my lip to hold in a squeal of fear when something moves next to my head and then skitters away. I can hear Wolfe climbing behind me, which comforts me. Finally, I see the light of the moon and stars shining above me and crawl faster.
As I emerge from the hole onto the street, I turn around, my expectant gaze on the hole, waiting for Wolfe to climb out behind me. Before he can emerge, though, a hand grabs me by the hair and drags me off the ground.
“Ouch, fuck!” I snarl as I’m pulled to my feet.
“Look what we got here,” a masculine voice says before a bright light is shoved into my face, blinding me. “I’ve heard of gifts from heaven, but this one crawled out a sewer.”
“It’s a fucking subway tunnel, idiot,” I snap, swinging my fist blindly while reaching for my weapon.
“She’s feisty!” Someone laughs before a fist collides with the side of my head. As I go down, I reach for my knife.
Once I’m down, they stop paying attention to me to crow over their new prize. Apparently, I’m going to be taken back to headquarters and passed around before I’m arrested and taken to the prison. If it weren’t for the ‘passing around’ part of their plan, it might actually be a viable way of getting into Riker’s and finding my doctor.
Ah well, the best laid plans… I bring my knife hand up and stab one through the boot. When he hits the ground next to me, I press my gun against the side of his head and pull the trigger, spraying half his head across the road.
The others are stunned, giving me time to leap to my feet. I count two more, but I’m not positive since they blinded me. I can’t shoot without aiming at them, or I might hit Wolfe. As they recover from their surprise and reach for weapons, I point my gun at the head of a man I know can’t be Wolfe. Not tall enough.
Before I can pull the trigger, the man goes down with a gurgling scream, his hand at the gaping wound in his throat.
“Wolfe,” I whisper to myself.
He makes quick work of the last man while I wipe my blade and sheath it, along with my gun.
Wolfe extinguishes their lantern and tosses it away. We’ll have to leave the area quickly, or risk more coming down on us. We hurry down a side street. We make it about twenty feet before shouts rise up.
“I think they were city forces,” I whisper. “They’ll be out for blood.”
Wolfe says nothing, but his grip on my arm tightens.
I glance up at the stars and determine that we’re heading east toward the water. The last thing we need is to get lost now. Though Agatha gave us a solid rundown of the city and its politics, we’re new to the area and disoriented. We can’t risk capture now, not with our doctor trapped on an island and our people closeted away in an underground maze.
We run as noiselessly as we can, slipping from one shadow to the next. We cross a deserted road and make our way to the river. A railing separates us from the water. I stare out into the inky darkness, looking both ways. I can see a few lights from across the river where Agatha had told us some inhabitants live.
“Do you see the marker?” I ask.
“No.” Wolfe takes my hand, and we head up the river, first in one direction, then back in the other. Finally, we see what we’re looking for. A sign with a walking man that reads John Finley Walk. We go back to the railing and look around.
“I still don’t see anything,” I murmur.
“Stay here.” Wolfe climbs over the railing and down an incline toward the river. I hold my breath as he reaches the edge. We were told the water was very cold and the currents are strong, so we want to avoid going in. “Found it.”
I climb over the barrier and carefully make my way down to where Wolfe is crouched. I don’t see the boat until I’m practically on top of him.
It’s covered in overgrowth, so it looks like part of the incline. We lift the branches and vines to reveal the boat.
I look at it skeptically. “We’re sure Agatha isn’t trying to murder us?”
The boat doesn’t look like it would carry a family of rats to the island, let alone two grown adults. Wolfe helps me into the boat and gives it a shove before climbing in after me. I hold my breath as it rocks wildly under his weight. Once he settles into a seated position opposite me, the boat rights itself and follows the current into the river.
“I’ve never been on a boat before,” I muse.
“Can you swim?” Wolfe asks sharply.
“Yes, my dad taught me when I was a child. You?”
“Yes,” he says shortly.
We follow Agatha’s instructions perfectly. Once the boat drifts into the river, we start the small engine on the back. As it starts up, I wince at the noise. Agatha had told us no one should hear it over the rushing of the river.
We’re lucky. The boat doesn’t have to fight the current as it’s flowing in the direction we’re headed. We were told this is not always the case, as the East River is not actually a river, but a strait linked to the ocean, which causes the direction of the current to change with the tides. When I learned of this, I badly wanted to see it. The ocean. I’ve never seen the ocean.
Wolfe controls the direction of the boat, using a handle. I laugh when he experiments, and we go around in a few circles before he gets it under control. Now, it’s full steam ahead toward what I hope is Riker’s Island.
The land masses are much closer together than I had thought when Agatha was first explaining the geography to us. I was fearful that we’d choose the wrong island, but she assured me we would know by the land generators, which are used to keep Riker’s brightly lit for the prison guards.
“There,” I whisper, pointing.
A light bobs in the darkness until I realize we’re the ones bobbing while the light is stationary. As we get closer, more lights become visible until I’m positive we’re headed for the correct island. This must be New York’s island prison.
Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5) Page 19
