by Cross, Amy
"We need to keep going," Cooper says, tugging on my arm.
"Are you sure we should be going underground?" I ask. "If there's a flood, we could get trapped."
"There are drainage systems," he replies, pulling me down the dark steps. "There are tunnels, too. Unless there's so much rain that the entire subway system floods, we'll be fine. This is the best option."
Although I'm a little uncertain, I decide that there's no option but to trust him. The steps lead down into absolute pitch darkness, and I reach out to the railing in order to make sure that I can find my way. I can't even see Cooper or Lacey, but I can hear their footsteps a little way ahead of me, and finally we get to the bottom of the steps. I guess we must be in the ticket-hall by now, although I can't see a damn thing. Holding my hand up in front of my face, I realize that I can't see anything at all. It's like we're heading down into Hell.
"I don't like this," Lacey says, her voice sounding small and frail.
"It's our best option," Cooper says, as there's a crack of thunder nearby. After a moment, the steps are briefly lit by a flash of lightning from up above. "It'd be suicide to stay on open ground, and any water that comes down here is only going to go into the tunnels. It's human nature to be scared of the dark, but don't let superstitions guide you. We'll be fine down here."
"I know," I say quietly, even though I lack his certainty. I can already hear water flowing nearby, and there's the sound of something dripping. I'm terrified that, at any moment, we could be swept away by a wall of water that would take us deeper and deeper into the station, down into the tunnels. With no lights to guide us, we'd be trapped forever; even if we didn't drown, we'd either die of hypothermia or starve to death.
"We're just going to stay down here in the ticket hall," Cooper continues, "and ride out the storm. Just make sure you keep your footing. Whatever happens, don't let the flow of water take you down any of the corridors. In a few hours, things'll calm down and we can go back up in the light of day."
"And then what?" I ask. "The boat's gone."
"Sutton'll come back," he replies firmly. "He's just gone to find shelter. He probably saw the storm coming and realized he needed to protect the boat. The guy's smart, but there's no way he'd just abandon us." He pauses, and a rumble of thunder above is followed within half a second by a flash of lightning, indicating that the storm is now directly above us. "Don't worry about Sutton," Cooper adds. "Worry about us. It's going to get cold down here, and we're already wet."
"How do we know there aren't bodies?" Lacey asks, her voice sounding frantic and tear-filled.
"There aren't," Cooper says.
"But how do you know?" she whines.
"There just aren't!" Cooper shouts, losing his temper for a moment. "I'm sorry," he adds quickly, correcting himself. "To be honest, if there were bodies down here, we'd be able to smell them. Let's just focus on getting through the night and coming up with a way to regroup in the morning, okay? It'll be light soon enough."
Taking a deep breath, I look back the way we came and watch as, for a moment, the top of the steps is illuminated by another flash of lightning. It sounds as if the heavens are coming down out there, and I'm finding it hard to believe that such a huge storm just happened to reach the city a few hours after we arrived. I'm not a superstitious or religious person, but it's almost as if this situation is chaotic on a biblical scale. Hearing the sound of more and more water flowing down the steps and into the darkness around us, I can't help but wonder if the city itself might be washed away before morning comes.
Caroline Jones
Fifteen days ago
"What is this place?" I ask, standing on the sidewalk and staring up at the front of the building. It's way past midnight, and Reed has led us to Brooklyn, but so far he's remained tight-lipped about why we're here.
"This is where my son lives," he says after a moment. "Tommy. He lives here with his mother."
"You're married?" Chloe asks.
He shakes his head. "Divorced."
"And they don't..." I pause, aware that this might be a difficult subject for him. "So, you tried to come here earlier?"
"When I realized that everything was completely messed up," he continues, staring up at one of the windows, "I decided to come and see Tommy. It's not one of my visitation days, but I figured Emma might let me see him anyway. I just needed to touch base with reality for a moment, but..." His voices trails off for a moment. "Emma didn't know who I am," he continues eventually, his voice sounding tight with emotion, "and then when Tommy came to the door, he didn't recognize me either. They weren't lying, either. I could see it in their eyes. They genuinely had no idea who I am. As far as they were concerned, I was just this strange guy standing on their doorstep, ranting about wanting to come inside."
"Did you try to explain?" I ask.
"I tried," he replies, "but Emma threatened to call the police. She seemed to be totally convinced that I was some kind of madman. And then, while we were arguing, Mrs. Varrel came out of the next apartment and asked if anything was wrong. I've known her for the best part of a decade, and she..." He pauses again, and it's clear that he's in a state of shock. "She didn't recognize me either," he adds eventually. "I stood there, with them all staring at me like I'm some kind of madman, and I wanted to argue with them but..."
"But what?" I ask.
"I just left," he continues, turning to me. "I retreated. I felt like somehow I must have made a mistake, but... I didn't make a mistake. This is my family. I mean, Emma isn't my wife anymore, but Tommy's my son, and he looked at me like I was some kind of psycho. I just wanted to get away and work out what was wrong, so I could come back and put it right, but I've been trying and trying over the past few hours, and I keep coming back to the fact that none of them recognized me. None of them. Unless this is some kind of huge joke, and everyone's involved..."
We stand in silence for a moment.
"My roommate had no idea who I am," Chloe says eventually, with fear in her voice. "She and her new roommate, some woman I've never seen before, thought I was some kind of junkie. They actually let me go to my room and open the door, and it wasn't my room. This other woman was living there, in my space, and my stuff was gone. They let me borrow a laptop, but I couldn't log in to my email or my bank or anything. It kept coming back with error messages. Eventually, I got so freaked out, I just had to get out of there, but it's like every trace of my life has been completely wiped out. There's nothing left."
"You can't erase a person," Reed says. "Not in other people's minds. You can't make a kid forget his father. That's not even possible."
"I tried talking to a police officer," I tell them, "but after a few minutes he forgot about me. It's like I was being unwritten from his mind as soon as he looked away. I swear, it was the freakiest thing I've ever experienced."
"Fuck this," Reed says, suddenly walking toward the building and taking a set of keys from his pocket.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I'm going to talk to my son," he says firmly. "I'm going to sit down with him and make him remember. I'm going to find a photo, or a video, or something that proves who I am."
"Maybe you should calm down," I reply, hurrying over to join him as he gets the door open. "Whatever's going on here, we need to take a step back and work out what to do next. If someone's messed with his mind, I'm going to reverse the process. I just need a few minutes alone with him, and he'll remember me. He has to."
"Caroline's right," Chloe says as she joins us in the doorway. "We need to, like, go and speak to someone in authority. This can't just be happening to the three of us. Maybe something's leaked into the water or something like that, and it's causing everyone to have amnesia, but we're not affected because..." She pauses. "Look, I don't have all the answers, but something fucked-up is going on, right? We just need to come up with a better answer, and we need to get professional help."
"He'll remember me," Reed says as he hurries up the stairs. "My own go
ddamn son is going to remember me!"
"Reed!" I call out, as Chloe and I hurry after him. "You've already tried this! You know what's going to happen!" He doesn't reply, and soon the three of us are walking along a short corridor, with Reed headed straight for the door at the far end. "Reed!" I call out again. "You're not thinking straight! You're only going to get yourself into trouble! You can't just go barging in there and expect to brute force your way back into his memory!"
"Have you got kids?" he asks, as he unlocks the door to the apartment. When he tries to push it open, however, he finds that there's a chain holding the door shut on the other side, which only allows him to open it about half an inch. "Fuck!" he shouts. "Emma! It's me! I need you to open this door right now! We have to talk!"
"This isn't the way to solve things," I tell him, even though it's clear that he's not going to listen to me. I don't know Reed very well, but it's already pretty obvious that the thought of losing his son is driving him to the point of madness.
"Have you got kids?" he asks again, turning to me.
"No," I reply, "but -"
"Then you don't know how this feels." He stares at me for a moment. "I'm sorry, but you don't know what it's like to see your own son's eyes as he looks at you like you're a stranger. He and I are so similar. We see each other three or four times a week, and we're not just father and son, we're friends. There's no way anyone could ever make him forget me. It's like my son is being taken away from me, and I don't care how big this thing is, I'm not going to -"
Before he can finish, there's a sound from inside the apartment, and finally the door is opened by a bleary-eyed, shortish woman with cropped blonde hair. A chain is keeping the door from opening fully.
"Hello?" she says, rubbing her eyes.
"Mom?" a voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who is it?"
"I don't know," the woman says, frowning as she stares at us. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"
"We need to talk," Reed says. I can hear the tension in his voice, and he's clearly struggling to contain his anger.
"I'm sorry?" the woman replies, clearly confused.
"I need to talk to Tommy," Reed continues.
"Uh..." The woman pauses. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"It's me," he says. "Reed." He waits for her to say something, but she just stares at him with a look of blank incomprehension. "Your ex-husband."
"Excuse me?" she replies, raising her eyebrows.
"Don't give me any more of this bullshit," Reed says, stepping forward and trying to push the door open.
"Hey!" the woman shouts, stepping back as the chain tightens, preventing Reed from getting inside. "I don't know what your problem is, but if you don't get out of here right now, I'm going to call the police, okay? This building has cameras!"
"Let me talk to Tommy," Reed says firmly. "He's my son."
"What?" the woman says, starting to look angry. "Okay, I don't know who you are, but you need to leave right now. I mean, right fucking now. This isn't funny."
"She doesn't remember you," I say, tugging at Reed's arm.
"Tommy remembers me," he replies, trying once again to push the door open. "My own goddamn son is going to remember me. Bring him to the door."
"Fuck this," the woman says, trying to push the door shut but finding that Reed has put his foot in the way. Turning, she grabs her phone from nearby and starts to make a call.
"You can't be serious!" Reed shouts, trying to reach through for the phone.
"Reed, we need to leave," I say, still pulling on his arm. "She doesn't remember you. This is like it was for me earlier. She doesn't even remember that you came here a few hours ago!"
"Of course she remembers!" he says, reaching inside and trying to unhook the chain.
"Police?" the woman says after a moment. "I need help. There's a man trying to gain access to my apartment." She pauses for a moment. "No, I've never seen him before in my life. He keeps saying he knows me, though. He's acting like I should recognize him. Can you send someone? I've got a chain on the door, but I'm worried he might try to force his way inside. I've got a child in the apartment with me."
"Reed," I continue, trying to pull him away from the door, "you need to stop doing this! Whatever's happening, you're not going to resolve it by breaking into this woman's apartment!"
"This isn't some woman!" Reed replies firmly. "This is Emma, my ex-wife!"
"What the fuck?" the woman shouts at him. "I've never seen you before in my life!"
"Hang on!" I shout, finally managing to pull Reed away from the door. "Let me show you something!" I continue, before turning to the woman. "I'm sorry about this. Please, just shut the door and go back to bed. I'll deal with this. He's just emotional."
"It's okay," the woman says after a moment. "I think he's leaving." With that, she cuts the call and turns to me. "If I even see him here again," she continues, "I'll make sure he's hauled off by the police, okay? I don't care what's wrong with him. I'm not going to be woken up in the middle of the night by some asshole."
"I promise," I say. "Just shut the door. Please?"
Sighing, the woman pushes the door shut.
"That was -" Reed starts to say.
"Okay," I tell him, as I take a step back. I hate having to do this to him, but I figure I need to show him what's happening. "Try again."
He stares at me.
"Bang on the door again," I insist.
He sighs, before banging his fist on the front of the door. "Emma!" he shouts. "I just want to talk to you! I'm not trying to hurt anyone or scare anyone, but I really want to work out what the hell's going on! Can you just -"
Before he can finish, the door opens, and the woman stares out at us. She rubs her eyes for a moment. "Hello?" she says, sounding a little sleepy.
"Mom?" a boy's voice calls out from inside the apartment. "Who is it?"
"I don't know," the woman replies. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"
Reed stares at her for a moment, and then turns to me.
"She doesn't remember," I say firmly. "She doesn't remember being your wife, she doesn't remember you coming here earlier today, and she doesn't remember talking to you less than a minute ago." I wait for him to say something, but he simply stares at me, as if he can't quite process this new information. "I told you!" I continue. "This is what happened to me with the cop! They don't remember us!"
"Do you want something?" the woman asks.
Reed turns to her. "No," he says after a moment. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."
Frowning, the woman pushes the door shut, leaving us out in the corridor.
"What the fuck is going on?" Reed asks. "That... She doesn't remember a damn thing!"
"It's not just her," I reply, looking over at Chloe and seeing that she looks stunned. "No-one remembers us. It's like the three of us have suddenly stopped properly existing. People don't remember us. Even when they talk to us, they forget as soon as we're out of sight. I don't know what's happening, but it's as if the entire world has somehow lost the ability to remember us. It doesn't matter how many times you know on that door. Your ex-wife and your son have forgotten how to remember you. You can't change anything by yelling."
"Then what can I do?" Reed asks, with clear desperation in his eyes. "Because I'll tell you right now what I'm not doing. I'm not walking away from my son!"
Dr. Stef Grant
Today
"You think this is a coincidence?" I ask, standing at the bottom of the steps as the first light of dawn begins to spread light across the entrance to the subway station. The storm is still raging, and a steady flow of water has been running down the steps all night, passing through the ticket hall and disappearing down various passages that lead down to the tracks. There's still not a lot of light down here, but there's just enough to allow us to make each other out in the gloom.
"As opposed to what?" Cooper asks humorlessly, standing next to me.
"This isn't just a storm," I say, turning to him. "This is massive
, maybe even a hurricane, and it hit less than twelve hours after we arrived." I wait for him to say something, but he seems lost in thought for a moment. "I checked the radar systems before we left the boat," I continue. "There were no storms on the horizon. This came out of nowhere. Storms don't just appear overnight, not big storms like this."
"Radar's been patchy lately," he replies. "Since we lost American data and systems, we've been struggling to patch things together. I wouldn't base any assumptions on the reliability or otherwise of our equipment. It's possible that this storm just slipped through the net. Coincidences do happen, Stef."
I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly there's the sound of thunder from up above, followed almost immediately by a crack of lightning.
"Hear that?" I say eventually. "The storm's been almost directly above us for hours now. It's like it moved in and decided to stick around. You think that's a coincidence?" I wait for him to reply, but he seems to be struggling for an answer. "I'm no expert," I continue after a moment, "but I'm pretty damn sure that this isn't how weather systems work. Something's caused this storm to develop extremely quickly, and now something seems to be attracting it to the city."
"The occurrence of one coincidence doesn't make it any more or less likely that another -"
"I know," I reply, interrupting him, "but still..." I take a deep breath as I realize that there's no way Cooper's going to admit that there's something ominous about the storm. He and I are both scientists, but he's always had more of a tendency to cling to cautious ideas, whereas I'm a little more willing to consider explanations that are a little more unusual. Right now, for example, it's clear that there's no way he's going to admit that the storm is unusual, or that its presence here is more than just a coincidence. "So," I continue, deciding to change the subject, "now what? Are we still on our mission, or are we in survival mode?"
