But he wasn’t really mad at Samuel. Even though the two men had only known each other properly for a few days, they had become firm friends in that short period of time and Austin knew that Samuel was a good guy. He was just tired, scared and he missed his husband and son – Austin knew he was acting out by saying mean things to Samuel and he knew he needed to apologize before they stuck him in too much trouble to get out of.
“I’m sorry,” he exhaled, unclenching his fists and letting out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know,” Samuel said, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I was just –”
“I know,” Samuel repeated. “Seriously pal, don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.”
“I – thank you,” Austin nodded after a pause. “It’s a lot to deal with, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Samuel agreed. “Let’s figure out where we are and find somewhere to hunker down for the night. Do you have any ideas?”
“I think we’re near Yankee Stadium,” Austin said, though he was guessing. “I’ve been to a few games and it does look a little familiar. Though game days are always a bit hazy.”
Samuel let out a little chuckle. He wasn’t much of a baseball fan but he knew how much the fans liked their beer. If they really were near the stadium, then they had run further than he’d originally thought. The pair of them needed to find a main road. There had to be a motel or something that they could crash in overnight.
“Let’s try down here,” Samuel suggested, picking a street at random and starting to walk down it. “I’m sure we’ll find someplace sooner or later.”
But the further the pair of them walked, the more uncomfortable they began to feel. Shadows danced unnervingly in the corner of their eyes and the city became unfamiliar and frightening. The sound of metal clanging onto the tarmac caused both men to jump, worried about what was most likely only a garbage can lid blowing off in the wind.
“I think we’re in the Bronx,” Austin whispered in Samuel’s ear as both men stopped dead in their tracks. A large group of men in hoodies stood on a street corner just ahead of them. They ducked into an alley before they were spotted. “I don’t like this, Sam.”
“Me neither,” Samuel chewed on his bottom lip. “Not the best part of the city to be stuck in after dark. What should we do?”
“We just need to get off the streets.”
Samuel agreed, the sound of a distant siren sending a shiver down his back. Inching forward slightly he peered around the brick wall to the group that still hung about on the corner. “Probably a gang. Probably all armed. We wouldn’t stand a chance. Let’s go back this way,” he suggested to Austin. “We can try and get into one of those boarded-up apartments.”
The gang on the corner made it a priority to get inside for the night. “That okay with you?”
“Sure,” Austin nodded, “come on.”
Back-tracking by a couple of hundred yards, Samuel and Austin stopped outside a building they had dismissed as they passed. The bottom rungs of the fire escape ladder were just out of reach above their heads, but with a jump either one of them would be able to reach it and pull it down. The windows on the second floor were boarded up and it looked like no one had lived there for some time. They hoped that was true.
It was Austin who made the jump for the ladder, springing up and closing his hands around the last rung of the ladder with ease. He hung there for perhaps a second or two, swinging in the air with his heavy rucksack before the ladder eventually started to move and lowered him down to the sidewalk. But it didn’t happen quietly. The rusty metal grated and screeched with every inch that slid down, creating an ear-splitting noise that could be heard for several blocks in the still of night. They looked at one another in panic, worried about who the noise might attract.
“Go, go,” Samuel urged Austin upwards once the ladder was fully down, not wanting to be caught on the ground next to it if anyone appeared. “Climb.”
Austin did as he was told and once he was high enough for Samuel to stand at his full height below him, the former Marketing Director of Trident put his hands on the ladder and tried not to think of his immobilizing fear of heights. Memories of being in the Trident building and being forced to look out of the windows made his palms feel sweaty, the salt from his glands reacting with the rusty metal to produce a metallic smell.
He told himself he was only climbing a few feet upwards. Samuel put his right foot on the bottom rung and gritted his teeth. By now, Austin had reached the first floor and was carefully pulling at the shutters, trying to see for certain whether anyone was inside the apartment. He had no idea that Samuel was struggling so much, the man’s vertigo not once crossing his mind as he had made the short climb.
“I don’t think there’s anyone inside,” Austin started to whisper, turning around and expecting to see Samuel behind him on that first platform of the fire escape. Instead his friend was stuck about half way up the ladder, shivering as he tried to overcome his fear and continue the climb.
“Hey pal,” Austin leaned over and looked at Samuel, noticing even in the pale moonlight how his complexation had changed to an ashy shade of grey. “Are you okay?”
Samuel swallowed and nodded, bile rising in his throat.
Austin realized what was happening and leaned further out, offering Samuel his hand, though he remained just out of reach.
“Come on Sam,” he encouraged him. “Just look up at me. It’s really not that bad once you’re here. You’re basically half way there already.”
Samuel exhaled slowly. There were more dangerous threats around the corner than the one he was facing right now. There were gangs, criminals and delinquents hidden down every alleyway and in every shadow. He should be afraid of staying on the ground with them, not climbing up to safety. He had tackled an elevator shaft inside a burning building not one week ago – if he could do that, surely he could reach a second floor apartment.
With a shake of his head, Samuel started climbing again. He looked up at Austin the entire way, refusing to even consider the solid tarmacked ground he was leaving behind.
“Nice one pal,” Austin slapped him on the back once he’d reached the solid metal grating of the fire escape. “You made it.”
“Please tell me that apartment is empty,” Samuel implored.
Austin chuckled in response. “Yeah, I think so.”
They pried the largest wooden panel away, revealing the glass of the window behind it. Both men held their breath and waited for a response, but nothing came. The apartment was indeed empty. Austin began working on jimmying the window open to create a gap wide enough for both men to shimmy inside. They were finally off the street. They removed their rucksacks and sagged into a chair, feeling relief and peace for the first time in several hours. It wasn’t much, but they had a place to spend
Chapter 9
With his family at the forefront of his mind, Dante knew he had to make a decision that was right for them. His husband was just under one hundred miles away in the center of the Trident disaster, but things were unravelling quicker than he could’ve ever imagined in Poughkeepsie and he couldn’t rely on the promise that Austin was coming for them. Dante needed to make a choice and he needed to make it now.
“Daddy I’m scared. Can we go back please?”
Looking down at Bowie, who Dante and Austin had named after their shared musical hero, Dante knew what he had to do. They had left his mother’s house which was further inland from the river, with the hope of crossing it and getting out of Poughkeepsie so that Austin could reach them. Now that Dante stood in front of the Mid-Hudson Bridge – the only way out of Poughkeepsie over the river – he knew that it had been the wrong decision. He should have never brought his son out into this madness; the little boy needed to be protected and instead Dante had led him into the belly of the beast.
The people of Poughkeepsie had officially lost their minds. The small, riverside city which sat in the
foothills of the Catskills was brimming with adventurers and explorers alike who loved nothing more than disappearing out into the mountains for weeks at a time and surviving off the land. Unfortunately, these same people all shared a very narrowminded view that when a disaster came, thousands of ‘city-slickers’ would flood to their area from New York and soak up their natural resources, bleeding them dry and leaving them to suffer.
Dante’s mother, who they were staying with, lived among them, though thankfully did not share the views of the majority. His father had however – before his passing – and so Dante knew just how extreme these people could get if they all united over something. Despite everything he knew though, he could’ve never imagined what was about to happen, hundreds of locals all grouped together at one end of the Mid-Hudson Bridge while those that didn’t want to remain in Poughkeepsie desperately fled across it over the water.
Bowie tugged on his father’s arm, anxious to return to his grandmother’s house and escape what was about to happen. Taking his son under his arm, Dante turned and started walking away from the bridge and up the hill that led back to where they had come from. He carried a suitcase in his other hand that was filled with unfolded clothes and random belongings he had hurriedly thrown into it just over an hour earlier. As soon as the news of Trident’s collapse had reached his household, Dante had panicked and tried to find a way back to his husband in the city. Only now he was realizing what a foolish idea that had been. Austin would come for them and the safest place their son could be for the time being was in a house with his loved ones, even if the rest of the people who lived around them had gone into apocalypse mode.
A loud boom shook the surrounding area just as Dante and Bowie reached the top of the hill, both of them turning around to look at the bridge, Dante with his arms around his son to protect him from the blast. Down below where the abundance of local residents gathered, men and women cheered as the Mid-Hudson Bridge cracked in the middle and started to collapse into the water.
This had been the plan all along. The people of Poughkeepsie were determined to outlive this disaster and they firmly believed that meant keeping themselves to themselves. Road blockades could be put up and defended on all the other major routes into the city, but the bridge was by far the most valuable. Reserves of dynamite had been laid across it and once everyone who wished to leave that way had done so, the mayor of the city had pressed the button and blown the concrete structure to pieces.
“Wow!” Bowie shouted over the noise, his tiny hands pressed against his ears as more explosions erupted, ensuring the supports of the bridge tumbled into the water as well and there was no way of rebuilding the structure.
Dante squeezed his son closer to his body and grimaced, wishing he hadn’t brought Bowie out to see this happen. The streets of Poughkeepsie were filled with people applauding the moment; the first step in making their small city self-sufficient through the upcoming weeks and months. They reacted harder and faster than almost anywhere else in the country, which meant they would be more serious about sticking to their guns. Austin had said he would come to Poughkeepsie and rejoin his family, but as Dante saw the determination in the people around him, he wondered if his husband would even be allowed in.
The father and son remained where they stood throughout the remainder of the explosions, the air around them filling with smoke and silencing the crowd for a few moments. When it finally subsided and a clear view of the bridge was visible again, a large cheer erupted throughout the city and people whooped and clapped their hands at the sight in front of them.
Dante himself stood silently, his son looking up at him with a confused expression, the little boy not tall enough to see what everyone was applauding. Dante could see it clear as day though and he questioned whether remaining in the city had been the correct choice. Where the Mid-Hudson Bridge once stood, now there was nothing put a pile of ash and rubble. The bricks had fallen into the water and lost their place, leaving a huge hole in the road more than five cars width in diameter. No one was getting into Poughkeepsie that way, nor was anyone getting out.
“Come on Bowie,” Dante looked away and down at his son, regretting his choice to bring the little boy outside once more. “Let’s get back to grandma’s house, shall we?”
“What’s going on, daddy? Why is everyone clapping at that noise?”
Dante didn’t know how to reply to his son and simply shook his head. “I’ll explain it later, bud. I think grandma will be missing us.”
The look on his mother’s face when Dante walked back into her house with Bowie said it all. She had never wanted them to leave and she practically broke down in tears as Bowie ran into her arms, the old woman dropping to her knees to hold him.
“Did you hear the explosions, grandma?” Bowie asked her, still curious about what had happened and eager for an explanation. Dante had been quiet the rest of the way back, the man worrying about what he was going to do for his son in the next few days and how he was going to let Austin know what had happened. With his mother the focus of his son’s interest, Dante stepped into another room and drew out his cell phone, pressing the first name at the top of his favorites list and holding the device to his ear.
“Dante?”
“Austin,” Dante’s breath hitched in his throat as he heard his husband’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“I’m – office – elevator shaft – fire.”
“What?” Dante furrowed his brow and held his cell away from his ear for a second, checking the service and the battery were both still full. “I can’t hear you Austin. Where are you?”
“…hear me? I’m – apartment – hide – wait – coming for you.”
“Austin, listen to me,” Dante spoke seriously, worried that he might only have a short period of time left where he could speak to his husband. The effects of what had happened with Trident were cascading through the country like dominos. The phone lines were already struggling and Dante could only guess at what would go down next and how it would change their lives. He needed to tell his husband what had happened in Poughkeepsie; warn him about the bridge. They had both agreed that once Austin got out of New York, he would come and join them. Dante needed to let him know that their original plan was going to be harder than they thought.
“They’ve destroyed the bridge to Poughkeepsie. They’re putting the city in lockdown. No one wants anyone coming in from New York and they’re doing everything they can do to make us self-sufficient. Where are you? How long do you think it’ll take for you to get here?”
Dante stopped talking and waited for a response, silence greeting him from the other end of the line.
“Austin? Austin can you hear me?”
A faint, muffled sound came from the other end, Dante swearing he could make out the tone of his husband’s voice behind it. But no words were discernable. It was like Austin was speaking underwater.
“Austin please,” Dante begged into the phone, desperate to hear his husband’s voice, or at least have some reassurance that Austin had received his warning. “Please talk to me.”
Another few seconds of muffled static and then the line went dead. Dante froze. How much of what he said had Austin been able to hear? Had he received the warning about the bridge into Poughkeepsie, or the other lengths the locals were going to? Would his husband still try and reach them? Dante didn’t even know if he had made it out of New York yet, the ominous, disjointed noise on the call worrying him that Austin was in danger. Of the few words he’d been able to make out, none of them had been positive. The fear that Austin was in more danger than he’d originally thought grabbed hold of Dante and threatened to suffocate him.
“Is everything okay, dear?” Dante’s mother, Meghan, stuck her head around the door and asked. The drawn and pale look on her face made it blatantly obvious she had heard the end of her son’s phone call.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do mom,” Dante shook his head. “I can’t get through to Austin.”
> “That man will be fine,” Meghan replied, “and you know he will. He’ll be doing everything he can to get back to you and Bowie and he won’t stop until he’s managed it.”
“But how will he get here, mom? They’ve blown up the bridge! They’re blocking off all the roads in and out of the city. These people are crazy. I swear dad was never like this.”
Meghan laughed, looking up to the sky. “You know what your father was like,” she smiled, “but you only remember the good bits. He perhaps wasn’t quite as extreme as blowing up a bridge to stop people from the big city coming up here, but he sure hated everyone from there just as much as the next guy.”
“Do you think they can really stop anyone from coming in?”
“I think they’ll certainly try,” Meghan nodded. “But you still shouldn’t worry about that husband of yours. Austin has got his head screwed on properly. He’ll figure out how to get to you and Bowie and he’ll do it with ease. You should be more worried about keeping that boy entertained until Austin does get here. He’s already a handful and I’m not sure we can have him running about outside anymore.”
Dante smiled, appreciating his mother’s words of wisdom, and knew that she was right about Austin. He and Austin often argued about who was the stronger of the two of them, both suggesting it was the other, but Dante knew, with the positions they were in now, Austin was in the right place. He had the skills to get out of New York and find his way back to his family and Dante would keep things in place in Poughkeepsie for when his husband eventually arrived.
What was happening to the small city was frightening to think about, but Dante also wanted to believe it was for the best. The crazy preppers that lived there knew how to handle almost any situation and the fact they were working together meant that everyone left in Poughkeepsie now stood a decent chance of survival. However this financial crash unfolded and expanded, they were in a strong position to deal with it and to adapt and grow. Dante could deal with getting Austin into the city when the time came, but until then, just like his mother said, he had to focus on his son.
Wipeout | Book 2 | Foul Play Page 7
