The Only Human

by Rick Mofina

  “Dad, is mom still alive?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Dad what’s the Pit? Where is it, what do they do to you there?”

  His father shook his head. “All I know is that people who go there never come back.”

  “Hey!” Guards rushed Ty and his father. “No talking! Back to work!”

  Ty protected his father from the blows of their clubs but the pain in his heart was worse than any beating as he anguished about the people he loved. His mother may be dead, his father was a broken man, Ella was in rough shape and this gargoyle uprising was exploding around the world.

  That night in his barracks, as Ty lay on the wooden planks of his bed, he again recited the incantation. Then, as he thought of those he loved, he came to a decision.

  I’m going to find my mother!

  Ty crawled along the boardwalk passed the other sleeping prisoners until he found Old Ray, a truck driver from Yonkers, who’d been in Ty’s group the longest.

  “Ray?” He whispered. “You awake, Ray?”

  He grumbled.

  “Ray, help me. How do I get to the Pit?”

  “What? You’re crazy, go back to sleep.”

  “I need to get to the Pit, Ray.”

  “You’ve been here nearly long as me, you know. You get too sick or too worn out to work, or you try to escape. That’s your ticket to the Pit.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But it’s stupid. If you try to escape, they catch you and you either get beat to death, or you go to the Pit. Either way, you lose. So just forget about it kid, and go back to sleep.”

  Ty crawled back to his space, his heart filled with resolve.

  I’m never giving up! One way or another I’ll get out of here!

  25

  Ty woke before the guard’s clubbing.

  He double-checked his goggles.

  He’d become adept at hiding them, concealing them under his armpit in the ice-old shower, or keeping them in his underwear. They gave prisoners a “new,” ratty version of what they called underwear every fourth day. Sometimes they were so large Ty had to knot the waist to keep them up.

  He was thankful that Professor Blair had made the goggles durable and collapsible. Ty tested the apertures. They still worked well. He’d make his escape bid during the morning return trip from the latrine.

  As he joined the line of prisoners trudging to the latrine he noticed two men in front of him, new arrivals from Brooklyn. They were talking quietly and eyeing a drowsy guard ahead. When the guard turned to beat a prisoner, the two men slipped smoothly into the darkened ditch.

  Seizing the opportunity, Ty followed.

  The three of them scurried away in the faint light as fast as they could but one of them was out of shape, his panting and stumbling echoed. In a short time, guards were shouting and running after them. The fugitives were trapped in the blaze of bright, punishing lights and soon they suffered clubbing from the guards who overtook them.

  “You three losers are going to the Pit!” A guard growled.

  Ty and the other men were punched and kicked as the guards marched them back. Old Ray stood among the other prisoners, shaking his head mournfully at Ty as the doomed trio passed.

  The guards walked them a great distance through the tunnel system to an area with tracks. They were forced to wait on their knees until a small train of flatbed cars arrived. Ty and the others were knocked roughly onto the first car and the train moved on through the network to other stops. More prisoners, including those who were sick or bleeding from beatings, were shoved aboard.

  The train continued traveling a great distance before making a decline, as if it were going deeper underground. By this point, Ty guessed they’d gone a few miles. Along the way, guards looked at the prisoners’ numbers, betting on which, “poor slob of this batch would last longest.”

  Finally, the train slowed to a crawl, coming to a set of large, iron doors. They yawned open like great jaws, swallowing the train as it inched into an enormous cavern. It was dotted with torches revealing a massive gaping hole, its mouth big enough to easily devour the infield of Yankee Stadium. The hole, a huge circular shaft which exhaled waves of gagging stench, was lit by more torches that went down through the surreal haze of an abyss.

  Guards forced the prisoners closer to the edge.

  Those who resisted were clubbed. Some were kicked closer to the brink. One man became hysterical and grabbed at the club of his tormentor, fighting for his life until the guards subdued him.

  “You go first, fool!”

  The sobbing man was shoved over the rim, releasing a scream that forced Ty’s knees to buckle as others were pushed to their fate in rapid succession. Ty clenched his eyes shut. Clubs speared his back and neck, forcing him to the lip of the hole. Little by little he got nearer until the ground under his feet failed him and he dropped.

  Into the Pit!

  His heart stopped.

  Instantly the ground rose up to slam him hard and he slipped, crashing flat onto his back.

  He was alive.

  He’d fallen less than three feet onto the thick, slippery, mud coating of a smooth ridge that extended about a yard from the precipice. It coiled down like a natural waterslide. Ty was gliding on his back, thudding and bumping, gathering speed.

  Down, down, down he spiraled at a dizzying rate, the cold muck spraying his face, shooting up his pants and shirt, the rock face and torches blurring by. As he slid deeper, the horrid smell nauseated him and he tried not to breathe through his nose. It was as if he’d been flushed down a humongous toilet.

  After an eternity he reached the bottom, splashing into a pool of cold, murky, foul water. He climbed to his feet, and followed the others to higher ground.

  As he trudged in the smoky haze, the rough fur of a rat passed over his feet. Two more rats passed him, scampering in the same direction, joined by a dozen more, directing his attention to the nearby infield just as an apple thudded to the ground next to him. Then more food fell: a bun, a chocolate bar still wrapped and an orange.

  Ahead, Ty saw clusters of people, perhaps two or three hundred in all. Their clothing hung from their emaciated bodies like death robes as they struggled with each other and the rats for the food raining down from above.

  Ty had already saved a little from his last meal but still he gathered all he could, stuffing it in his underwear, his pants pockets, and knotting his shirt to hold more.

  He stopped.

  At first he thought the ground had come to life then he realized that in the haze, streams of prisoners, too weak to walk, were crawling toward them for food. Ty helped as many of the unfortunates as he could until every scrap had been taken.

  The clusters broke up, people wandered off.

  Having missed breakfast, Ty was hungry. He found a degree of solitude on a large dry rock, sat on it and cleaned an apple. He ate slowly, savoring every bite, the skin, the sweet meat of the fruit, and its juice. It filled him with nourishment and strength as he chewed.

  A man with worn, bedraggled pants and a shirt so torn it hung from him like a cape of ribbons, sat on the rock opposite Ty. Under a mask of mud streaks, the man’s face was hollow and depressed as his dirty fingers worked at peeling an orange.

  “My name’s –” the man stopped and coughed. He sounded extremely ill as he caught his breath. “My name’s Lou, I worked in Little Italy when we got evacuated. U.S. Coast Guard, retired. I got a condition and can’t get my medicine, so it ain’t looking so good for me. It ain’t looking so good for any human these days.”

  “My name’s Ty.”

  “Welcome to the Pit, Ty. The good thing is that when they bring new prisoners, they throw down a little more food and the strongest get it.”

  Ty nodded and ate slowly, looking around in the gloom lit by torches.

  “Forget it. There ain’t no way outta here,” Lou said. “This is the end of the line for us. All of us.”

  “Where are we? Are w
e under Manhattan, the East Side?”

  “No, best we can figure we’re under North Brother Island in the East River, near the Bronx and Riker’s. We figured the beasts hived off of an old subway line.”

  “What’s North Brother Island?”

  “Used to be the place where they quarantined people with terrible diseases. It’s got an old hospital but it’s been abandoned for years. The whole island is like a ghost town.”

  “There’s nobody above?”

  “Nope, ain’t nothin’ alive up there but birds.” Lou ate only one orange slice and wrapped the rest in a clean cloth then asked: “Do you know anything about the Great Works?”

  “That’s where I was before coming here,” Ty said.

  “Are they finished building their monstrosity yet?”

  “No, but they’re close.”

  “Well when they finish that, they’ll finish everyone in the Pit. That’s the word we’re getting from the prisoners they toss down here every day.”

  “What do you mean? What happens in the Pit?

  “Every now and then they take a few humans away.”

  “Take them where? What happens to them?”

  “Don’t know. The time to fear is when the guards appear and call for ‘Selection’.”

  “Selection? What’s that?”

  “That’s when it happens. They select a few humans and drag them off and they’re gone. We never see them again.” Lou stood to leave. “I gotta get back to my wife. She ain’t doin so good, either.”

  “Wait, please! I’m looking for my mother! She’s down here! Christina Price. How can I find her?”

  “Ask around. It’s a big place,” Lou nodded in one direction before walking off. “Most everyone is in the chamber.”

  “The chamber?”

  “It’s that way,” Lou nodded again. “But I gotta warn you, that’s where the people in the worst shape are. Good luck.”

  After Ty finished eating his apple, core and all, for no food was ever wasted, he walked through the dismal haze, following Lou’s direction to another grand archway leading out of the Pit’s bottom.

  He came to a long smoothed tunnel that soon filled with soft, monotonous chanting, pierced by a high-pitched solo. Ty’s first thought was that it was some sort of prayer, or choir, but as the tunnel opened to a great cavern it was clear he was hearing the cries of the suffering.

  Here, in this massive cathedral of pain, he saw row upon row of hilly terraces, like the sections of an auditorium. It was all horseshoed around the base of a massive chimney that shot upwards into and through the rock ceiling. Ty began walking among the prisoners, searching for his mother.

  “Christina Price, have you seen her?” He asked at every turn.

  Everywhere Ty looked, he saw ragged people lying, or writhing in agony. Others sat upright, comforting loved ones in their lap. As he walked among them wretched hands shot up to him, grabbed and tugged at him.

  “Food, water, please! Anything! Food, water, please help us!”

  The smells of body odor, urine and excrement wafted up in thick waves as he continued up one section and down another. In some cases, people didn’t move at all and Ty wondered if they were alive.

  “I’m looking for Christina Price. Have you seen her?”

  The desperate pulling at Ty was relentless. He guessed there were thousands of prisoners moaning and wailing in this godforsaken inferno. Half an hour passed, then an hour before Ty lost any sense of time, and overwhelmed, he simply yelled.

  “Christina Price!”

  Again and again he called for her until his voice weakened and all he could manage was “Mom! It’s Ty! Mom!”

  It was useless, and while he never stopped calling for his mother, his heart began to crack under the mounting weight of despair. Then, through the smoky, darkened air, Ty saw distinct movement in the distance. Something waving, like a tiny flag of hope.

  He wiped his tears as he rushed across the great distance, drawn to a fragile voice that grew stronger and louder as he neared it.

  “Ty! Over here! Ty!”

  26

  Cries and moans rose from the withered prisoners who clutched at Ty’s pants and shirt as he climbed the gentle slopes of the terrace.

  He compassionately disengaged himself and made his way to his mother, who’d sat up to receive him.

  “Ty, oh, Ty! I was so worried I’d never see you again!”

  She raised her frail arms, embraced him, kissed him and wept.

  “I found you, mom!” Ty’s tears flowed. “I found you!”

  He got on his knees and they held each other for a long time until she pulled back to look him over.

  “I think you got bigger.”

  Her skin had tightened on her face, her eyes had hollowed. It scared him to see her this way and he was overcome by a sudden wave of guilt.

  “I’m sorry they arrested you and dad, but I’m happy I found you both.”

  “Your father’s here?”

  “Yes, they had him in the Great Works but he’s surviving.”

  “Oh, thank God he’s alive.”

  “It’s my fault they arrested you, but I had to run.”

  “This nightmare is nobody’s fault.”

  “I’m going to stop it, mom.” He wiped his eyes.

  “Honey, there’s nothing you can do.”

  Ty regained most of his composure and sat beside her.

  “I have food.”

  He cleaned off a bagel for her. She took a small bite and he watched the muscles of her jaw working slowly as she chewed.

  “Why did they put you here?” he asked.

  “I can’t work. I fell and hurt my leg against the rocks.” She extended her right leg. Her slacks were ripped and bloodstained. Ty rolled her pant leg up and discovered an oozing, festering gash below her knee.

  His first instinct was to look away but he held fast.

  “Let me help you,” he said. “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  Ty tore strips of the cleanest fabric from the other leg of his mom’s slacks. He had a small unopened bottle of water and used it with the fabric to gently clean his mother’s wound. Then he used a clean strip as a bandage and wrapped it firmly around her leg. He wanted to do more to comfort her, to give her hope that things would get better.

  “Mom, I really think I can stop the gargoyle revolution.”

  “Honey, this horror is beyond human control.”

  Ty reached into his pants for the sheet of paper with the rune incantation and showed it to her.

  “If I can say this at the right place under the right conditions I can remove the gargoyle curse that was put on humans.”

  He began reciting it softly for her as if it were a prayer.

  She looked at the page then she looked hard at Ty, searching his eyes in the dim light for a long troubled moment.

  “Honey, I know you play your computer games, and go to the movies, but what happened is real. There’s no magical way to end it.”

  “Mom, you don’t understand!”

  She cupped his face with her hand.

  “I do, honey. I understand what’s going to happen.”

  “No, mom, listen. First, I have to find a way out of here.”

  His mother took his hands in hers, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Ty, this is where they’ve banished the sick and the dying. Where they keep us barely alive. On the day the gargoyles replace the Statue of Liberty with their monument, they will start getting rid of the weak and the sick. It’s all part of their plan. The guards told us.” His mother stared at him as tears rolled down her face. “It’s true. The guards taunt us with it. Our time is running out fast!”

  A sudden ripple of panic rose in the air, carrying anxious whispering.

  “SELECTION!”

  Patrols of guards had emerged in The Pit working their way through the humans, their bosses pointing their clubs at people to be taken away.

  “That one! And that one!
”

  Ty saw the gleaming eyes of gargoyles watching like overlords from the dark regions as one patrol moved directly toward him and his mother. Closer and closer they came until one of the boss guards stood before them, scowled and spit on the ground narrowly missing Ty’s mother.

  “You’re stinking scum!” The guard pointed his club at Ty’s mother and turned to the other guards with him. “That one, take her!”

  “No!” Ty shielded his mother. “Leave her alone!”

  The guards seized her arms.

  Ty lunged at them but before he landed his first punch his mother screamed then everything went black.

  27

  Ty was on his back.

  As he came to, it felt like his head and neck had swollen to ten times normal. The pain was numbing.

  “You gonna be okay, kid?”

  He opened his eyes to a familiar face.

  “That was a brave but stupid thing you did.” Lou, the Coast Guard guy Ty had met earlier, helped him sit up. “Have some water. It’s fresh. They threw it down a while ago.”

  Ty drank and groaned at the same time. The water helped.

  “It was dangerous to fight back kid. They could’ve selected you, too.”

  “I’ve got to find my mother, where did they take her?”

  “Nobody knows where they take them after Selection.”

  “I have to find her!”

  “You’ve got to forget it and move on.”

  “No!” Ty got to his feet rubbing his neck. “I have to find her!”

  His words echoed as those around him stared, helpless to help until one man moved toward him.

  “I know where they take them and I know what they do.”

  Ty went to the man.

  “Show me! Take me there!”

  The man remained motionless gazing into darkness. He appeared to be in his thirties. Ty stood before the man and asked him his name.

  “Jackson.”

  “Take me there, Jackson, please!”

  Jackson weighed Ty’s request as if it were monumental.