by Bonnie Dee
Just then several loud screams cut across the babble of worried, excited voices. These weren't like the initial yells of surprise, but horrified screams of pain and fear.
"What the hell?" A low voice came from right beside her.
Lila turned to find GI Joe standing in the aisle beside her seat, staring toward the front of the car.
"What is it? What do you see?" she asked, climbing onto her seat to try to get a better view.
"I don't know, but I think we'd better—"
A woman's howling shriek was cut off, ending in a loud gurgle.
"We've gotta go, now!" The soldier grabbed Lila's arm and jerked her into the aisle with him. He shoved her behind him toward the door between compartments. It was closed. Lila's fingers scrabbled against glass and metal as she struggled to open it. As the screaming at the front of the car increased, she jerked the door open. Hands pushed against her back, propelling her into the space between cars. She tripped on the uneven metal floor, stumbled down the steps to the track, banging her knee against the edge of the car before her foot hit pavement. She was spun aside and slammed against the subway car as people shoved her out of the way..
In the dark, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled. "This way."
"What is it? What's happening?" She didn't know if she'd said it or thought it. Questions repeated in a continuous loop in her head while the horrifying screaming inside the compartment went on and on. It wasn't just one or two voices now, but many as if a massacre were taking place.
"Over here." The soldier sounded confident and his hand was strong. Lila ran with him and so did some others. She could hardly see the other people in the dark, only feel their bodies pressing around her. They were running like a herd of gazelles racing before cheetahs. Jesus, what was happening back there? What was coming after them?
The man running beside her stopped so abruptly he nearly jerked her arm from its socket. He crouched and did something on the ground. Lila stared blindly at his dark shape and realized he was prying open a manhole grate. The crowd divided like water, flowing around them this way and that, but some people became aware of what he was doing and huddled around, waiting.
There was a clang of metal. The soldier rose and spoke quickly. "Whatever's on that train, I don't want to try to run from it straight down a tunnel. If we go into the storm sewer, maybe we'll have a better chance to escape."
The idea of descending into a pitch black abyss didn't seem like much of an alternative to running for the nearest station, but Lila could see his logic. If they couldn't outrun whatever was coming, they should hide. One man was already climbing into the hole. Lila's eyes had adjusted to the very dim light and she could make out the shapes of her fellow travelers enough to see that the next person clambering into the pit was the African American woman with the braids. Following her was her seatmate, the white-haired lady.
Lila turned to the teenage boy and his little sister standing beside her. "You going with them?"
"I guess." He stooped to talk to the girl, who was crying. She shook her head. Her brother grabbed her arms and his cajoling voice grew angry.
Lila looked back at the train, its huge silver body like the carcass of some great beast lying in the tunnel. Adrenaline, sharp as knives, lanced through her veins. Her heart pounded so hard her chest was tight and she could scarcely breathe. More people were spilling out of the subway cars both nearby and farther down the track. More yells and screams, muffled by the closed windows came from inside the compartments. As Lila watched, the silhouette of a person stumbled off the train and dropped to the pavement. The woman crawled across the ground, crying.
Lila took a step toward her to offer help then stopped. Another person was lurching down the steps right behind the woman. There was something wrong with the dark figure and the way it moved with a jerky gait like a marionette. Lila didn't know how she knew the person wasn't a victim. She just felt it.
The hair on Lilas's nape lifted and she backed away. Turning, she grabbed the little girl by one hand and the older boy by the arm. "Move! Now!" She pushed them toward the open manhole, where another man was just disappearing from sight.
"I'll pass your sister down to you," she promised the boy, and he began to climb the ladder. Before he'd gotten very far, Lila lifted the crying girl beneath the armpits and slung her into the pit. She glanced back at the lurching figure—several of them now moving alongside the train. One grabbed a running woman and pulled her close as if in a lover's embrace. Lila didn't see what happened next but screams rang in her ears.
The top of the ladder was clear so she began her own descent, her sandals slipping on the metal rungs. From below came the echoing sound of voices, hands reaching for her and helping her off the ladder.
"Something's coming," she gasped breathlessly. "Something—"
"Is that everyone?" The soldier was beside her. She caught a glimpse of his profile in the darkness as he looked up to the gray circle above.
"Close it! You'd better close it. Hurry!" The whole point of hiding down here would be lost if the—whatever those people were—spotted the open manhole cover.
GI Joe climbed back up the ladder, his body blocking the light overhead. He reached out and pulled the metal cover back into place. The black circle moved across the opening like an eclipse, plunging them into total darkness.
"What now? We can't even see," someone spoke above the little girl's sobbing.
"Anyone have a lighter or matches?" Lila knew the soldier's voice already. How could he sound so calm in the middle of this disaster?
"I do," came a young female voice, followed by the sound of someone scrabbling through a purse. Lila thought of her abandoned backpack, the comparative religions textbook which she knew she'd never see again. She stood in the darkness, listening to the muffled sounds of trauma and running footsteps overhead and felt the warmth of bodies all around her, heard the other people murmuring and moving.
The storm sewer smelled like a monkey house at the zoo, a potent, urine-soaked stench that singed her nostrils. Her body tensed and she fought against the urge to scream. A primitive fear of things that lurked in the dark twisted her gut, but surely nothing down here could be any worse than whatever horrible thing was happening up above.
Several people were whispering about terrorists and the possibility of some kind of massive strike on the city. One man suggested a fast acting, flesh eating virus and someone else told him to shut the hell up. Several people tried to make calls on their cell phones but of course there was no signal down here.
The girl with the lighter located it and struck a flame. In the tiny flickering light, Lila could see little beyond the brown face of the lighter's owner—the woman with the braids. She held the lighter out from her body to try to shed its glow on the space around them. It was less garbage-strewn and rat-infested than Lila had expected, which made sense. This was a storm drain, a run-off for rainwater, not an open sewer despite the smell of piss. Luckily there hadn't been rain in weeks and the concrete floor was pretty dry. The tunnel stretched in both directions like the subway above, disappearing quickly into blackness.
Lila counted ten in their group. In addition to the soldier, the brother and sister, and the two women from the seat in front of her, there was a tall, middle-aged man in a suit and an older Hispanic man wearing a Mets baseball cap. A pretty woman in a tailored blouse and slacks, whose hair straggled from its stylish twist stood with her arms folded protectively over her chest. Beside her was a man with crew cut white hair. The name tag on his gray industrial uniform proclaimed him "Omar Everett."
GI Joe scanned the tunnel in both directions and pointed to the right. "The nearest station would be that way. All we have to do is keep walking straight and we should get there in about ten minutes. We'll conserve the lighter. Only turn it on when necessary."
"No way," Everett said. "I'm not walking blind. We don't know when the next exit will be. We should wait here until whatever's happening quiets down, then go u
p and check things out."
"He's right," the woman with her pale blond hair in a bun agreed. "We have no idea what we'd be heading into in the dark. Besides, someone in authority will come soon to help. We should be nearby."
"I don't think anyone's coming," Lila said carefully. "At least not for a long time. We're probably on our own. Getting to the next station and then the street is our best bet."
"Look. We can stand here and argue or get moving, but either way, the lighter's going off. We'll need it later." GI Joe managed to sound absolutely confident without coming across as arrogant. The woman with the lighter doused it immediately.
"Maybe we should introduce ourselves." The blonde woman's voice sounded louder when they were all shrouded in darkness. "I'm Ann Hanson."
"I don't think it matters, lady. We can talk later. Right now we should just get the hell out of here!" The latino accent gave away the speaker as the man in the Mets cap.
"I agree. We should go before someone finds us here," came the voice of the lighter owner.
Or some thing. Lila couldn't shake the image of that lurching shadow grabbing a woman and pulling her close. The shape had been human, but there'd been something very strange about the way it moved.
"Yeah, something seriously messed up is going on up there. No way should we stick around," the teenage boy mumbled.
"I don't want anyone crapping out halfway there. We can take turns carrying the kid. What about the lady with the white hair. Can you make it even if it's a few miles?" The soldier's voice sounded impatient now. Lila could tell he was frustrated and anxious to get moving.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking for ten minutes or ten hours if need be, young man, and you may refer to me as Mrs. Scheider rather than 'the lady with the white hair'." The woman's dry voice made Lila smile.
"All right. Let's move out. Hold hands with the person in front of and behind you." Once more GI Joe grabbed Lila's hand, scaring the crap out of her. Why did she always seem to be standing right next to him?
But Omar Everett wasn't done speaking his piece. "You all do whatever you want, but I'm staying here."
"Your choice," the soldier said, shortly. "Just don't go up until we're long gone. I don't want you giving away our location. Girl with the lighter, want to hand it over?"
"Deb," she said, and moved past Lila to surrender her lighter to the leader before linking hands with Lila. Her fingers were strong and warm. The soldier's hand was even stronger. It tugged insistently on Lila's, pulling her forward.
"Everyone holding onto someone else?"
A ragged chorus of affirmatives came from the group. Even the little girl had stopped sobbing, only an occasional hiccup coming from her.
Lila felt bad leaving Mr. Everett behind, alone in the dark. It didn't seem right. But no one else, including Ann Hanson, seemed inclined to leave the group to stay with him.
Walking forward, Lila instinctively kept her head ducked low. This was like one of those trust games intended to teach you to put your faith in other people, but which usually backfired when you stubbed a toe or barked your shin. She held tight to the soldier's hand and kept herself close behind his broad back. If anyone ran into something it would be him, not her—and wasn't that a selfish thought for someone who considered herself a kind, even spiritual person? When it came down to it, survivalist nature beat out pacifist ideals.
Deb's hand grew sweaty in hers as the group shuffled along holding hands like a chain of elementary schoolchildren on a field trip. Or a barrel of monkeys. Lila smiled at the silly image of red plastic monkeys linked together, and the smile nearly burst into uncontrollable giggles. She was on the edge of losing control and getting hysterical.
"What's your name anyway?" she asked the soldier in an attempt to distract herself from the surrealistic circumstances.
"Ari Brenner."
"What do you think happened? A terrorist attack?" She already knew it was more than an accident. The train hadn't just stopped. Someone had boarded it. Or something, her inner voice repeated.
"I don't know. No weapons fire so that doesn't seem likely. I wouldn't want to guess right now." He still sounded as calm as if this kind of thing happened every day of the week. Was that part of army training or was he simply the kind of person who kept cool in a crisis?
"A virus, I'm telling you," Mr. Mets Cap called out from behind them. "A flesh eating virus like in the movies. Something like that was killing those people. Could be airborne. We're better off down here."
As if to prove him wrong, the sickly sweet smell of death drifted from the tunnel ahead of them. Lila tensed, terrified of stepping into an animal corpse in the dark. Dead rat? Pigeon? Raccoon? Images of every bloated, fly-ridden creature she'd ever seen by the side of the road filled her mind and she automatically slowed.
Ari squeezed her hand and pulled. "Come on. The faster we get past whatever it is, the sooner we can breathe."
He was right. Without her hands free, Lila couldn't cover her mouth and nose. All she could do was hold her breath, which would ultimately force her to draw in a deeper lungful of the sickly odor if they didn't get past it fast.
"Shine the light. See what it is." Ann Hanson's voice was panicked, as on edge as Lila felt.
"Do you really want to know?" The tall, older man's voice sounded distant and Lila guessed he was at the end of the line.
Ari paused and flicked on the lighter. Its tiny glow was as bright as a flaming torch in the darkness. Lila blinked as her eyes adjusted, then focused on the dirty, damp cement floor. There was a little pile of something furry decomposing only a few yards away. A disgusted shiver rippled through her. Luckily it wasn't directly in front of them so they wouldn't have to navigate around it.
"Keep going," she told Ari.
He let go of her hand to wipe his on the side of his pants, flipped the lighter closed and moved forward. She grabbed hold of his shirt and nudged him in the back. Her fist clenched, bunching up the shirt and she pressed her nose into her arm to shield it from the stench of death.
Ari walked faster. No one complained as he kept up a steady pace until they'd left the eye-watering smell behind.
"Shouldn't we be getting close to the station by now?" Deb asked.
Ari didn't answer. Lila guessed he was as clueless as anyone else about how far they were from the nearest platform—or whether this passage ran parallel with the subway tunnel above. The idea took hold of her that they might not come to another manhole cover, that maybe Everett was right and they should've stayed close to the spot they entered. Her heart beat faster as she imagined being trapped down here forever. A mental image of layers of concrete and dirt between them and the open air made her breathing grow short. She was going to give herself a panic attack if she didn't calm down. In. Out. She breathed, slow and easy. Let it flow. Deal with whatever happens.
"Hey, Captain!" The teen yelled. "My sister needs a break. Can we stop for a minute?"
Ari stopped and Lila bumped into him. Deb, in turn, ran into her. She imagined the lot of them tumbling one into another like the Stooges and again crazy laughter threatened to burst from her lips. Lila put both hands to her mouth and leaned against the grimy wall.
"Okay, roll call," their leader commanded. "Say your name so we know everyone's still together."
"Deb Reeves here. Anyone mind if I have a cigarette? I need one bad."
"Patricia Scheider. I'd prefer you didn't. The air down here is foul enough as it is," the white-haired woman's crisp tone allowed for no argument.
Lila pulled her hands away from her face. "Lila Teske still here."
"Derrick and Ronnie Bronson," The boy said.
"I can say my own name! I'm eight. I'm not a baby." The high voice was indignant and petulant. Lila wondered how much longer Ronnie could go before she broke down and threw an all out tantrum. She thought she might join the kid in crying, screaming and kicking her legs. That sounded pretty good right about now.
"Hector Ramirez."
&nb
sp; "Ann Hanson."
"Joe Morgenstern."
The names floated through the darkness.
"Do you think we should turn back?" Ann's voice came closer, marking her progress toward the front of the line. "What if we can't find another way out? Or what if we walk right past it in the dark? We should've listened to Mr. Everett and waited for someone to come help us. Wandering around like this is a big mistake." Again her voice sounded as if she was barely holding it together and might fly apart at any second. Ann didn't seem like the kind of person a person wanted to depend on in a crisis.
"Second guessing never accomplishes anything," Mrs. Scheider said briskly. "We're here now. We must move forward."
"I agree." Joe's voice also sounded nearer. Everyone was clustering into a group. "There's bound to be more than one exit and it makes sense there'd be access near a station."
"God knows what we're gonna find up there. Everybody dead or dying," Hector moaned.
"Mr. Ramirez, there's a child here. Mind what you say." Mrs. Scheider reminded him.
"Dude's right though," Derrick chimed in. "Something's going on. The way those people were screaming, maybe it was like nerve gas or something. Or maybe--"
"Shh. Stop it," Lila interrupted. "Let's not conjecture. It's not going to help anything. We'll find out soon enough what happened."
"Jesus, I need a cigarette. Gimme back my lighter."
Ari didn't hand Deb the lighter but did flick it on again. The glow illuminated the faces of the little group making them into eerie yellow masks. "Lila's right. Last thing we need is to start panicking or making up crazy stories. We should think about arming ourselves though. Does anyone have a pocket knife or anything that could be used in self defense?"
