Undertow (The UnderCity Chronicles)

by S. M. Stelmack

  “I suppose so.”

  “You ain’t answered me. You can’t resist his charms, can you?”

  Lindsay smiled, despite the man’s intrusiveness. “Don’t see how that’s any business of yours, Reggie.”

  “Maybe not. Still, I think you’d do him a world of good. He doesn’t belong in this neighborhood. Man like him is made for better things. He needs to forget what happened to him down in the tunnels, and get on with this life. Needs new, better memories.”

  Even if it were her exact thoughts, it meant tons coming from Reggie. It felt like a blessing. Lindsay slid onto the kitchen table which creaked but held. “You two are good friends.”

  Reggie laughed. “Jack and me, we’re like brothers. Nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and it’s the same back.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Long story.”

  “We’ve got time.”

  Reggie shifted into a more comfortable position. “Well, used to be a time I thought I could be king of the underground. Me and my crew took over a lot of it, and made our money taxing tunnel-folk. For a while nobody set foot down there without my say-so. Even Seneca was paying me dues to leave ‘em in peace.”

  Reggie’s voice dropped. “The only thing people down there feared more than me was the Moles, and I got it into my head that that had to stop.

  “Me and my crew, we went down thinking the Moles were nothing but a bunch of crazies running ‘round in The Pits. Figured we’d kick their ass and show all New York who was really in control. You can guess what happened.”

  Reggie bowed his head, and Lindsay gave him a moment of silence before softly prompting, “Did anyone make it out aside from you?”

  “No.” His own voice was little more than a whisper. “Nobody. Lost my whole crew, and I would have been dead, too, by rights. The Moles let me go as a warning. Let me go so New York could see what happened to men who thought they could be king of the underground. After that I held Grand Central on my own and lived quiet in the Burbs for a while. Only I wanted payback, Lindsay. I was full of hate.”

  “How does Jack fit into the picture?”

  “A few years passed. The Burbs got busted by the cops, and I was slowly putting together another crew when Jack showed up. People told him about me and my fight with the Moles, so he found me and asked a lot of questions.

  “I liked Jack. Liked him right away. So I cut a deal with him. He’d pay me enough to arm my new gang, and I’d show him the underground, including The Pits.

  “As I was getting my plans made, I had to do a lot of recon, and I took Jack with me. He could keep up, no problem, and we became friends. Never thought I would have some Oxford professor as a brother.

  “Anyhow, the day came that I was ready, and down I went with my new crew, and they was real bad men. Toughest, meanest motherfuckers I could find. And then we had us a war in The Pits. War like you wouldn’t believe.”

  Reggie’s eyes became distant and sad, and his great body deflated. This time, Lindsay didn’t interrupt the silence but waited it out with him.

  “Was my pride that did that, Lindsay. We killed some Moles, except they killed more of us. Next thing I knew I was out of bullets, out of crew, and out of luck. They swarmed me like rats, and when I woke up I was chained to a pillar in some cave. Why they didn’t kill me I don’t know—guess they wanted me to suffer. And suffer I sure as hell did.”

  “How did you get out?” Lindsay asked.

  “Jack came and got me,” Reggie answered. “When I didn’t come back he went down there himself and busted my ass out. Took them all on by himself. I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t been there.”

  “He got captured?”

  Reggie sighed. “Jack led them off my trail—only reason I made it out. And yeah, they got him. I crawled to Grand Central, and it was Najib that looked after me. I went back to holding my gate, and never thought of being king down there again. There’s something you got to understand, Lindsay, I thought he was dead after what I saw them do to my guys. If I thought they was holding him I wouldn’t have sat on my ass.”

  Reggie’s face was haunted. He would never forgive himself, Lindsay realized, even though Jack already had. Oh yeah, they were brothers. Although they might not share a drop of blood, they’d lost plenty for each other. “So two years later he escaped?”

  “Yeah. Second I got wind he’d made it to Agharta I was down there in a flash. Got him to the surface as quick as I could, and into a proper hospital. It was the happiest day of my life, Lindsay. But then….”

  Lindsay waited. Reggie smiled.

  “But the rest is for Jack to tell, isn’t it?”

  * * *

  Reggie soon fell asleep in the armchair, head bent to chest, and despite his injuries—or perhaps because of them—Tocat did, too. Lindsay continued to sit on the kitchen table, unable to even think of sleep while Jack was away.

  She understood now why her childhood friend had changed so much, and the answer lay ironically in how much he had remained the same. More than anyone she had ever met, he was genuine. Though his suffering had dampened his spirit, his loyalties ran right to his core, and his courage was unshakable. Once again he’d returned to that nightmare land beneath the city, and why? To save the life of a criminal he barely knew, and could have called an enemy.

  More than anything she wished for his return, to hold him and be held. Jack and Seline. Both in the underground, both out of her reach. The first might return. The second—. She pressed her knuckles to her lips. How could they ever hope to reach her now?

  Eventually Lindsay stretched out on the kitchen table and continued her vigil. For Jack. And Seline. If her eyes closed on their own, fear shot adrenaline through her and she become alert again. She played Tetris on her phone, answered emails from work, surfed the web for articles on post-traumatic stress disorder. Finally when her screen displayed 5:00, Janice’s regular wake-up time, she called her.

  “Lindsay? That you? You okay? Did you find Seline?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she whispered. “No, no Seline.” And no closer to getting to her, either. She couldn’t tell Janice that. Saying it made it real somehow. “I’m at Jack’s place. We’re okay. A man from below got injured so Jack’s getting help. He’ll be back soon.”

  “What? Take him to the hospital.”

  “Can’t, Janice. It’s complicated. Jack knows a doctor. He’ll be back with her soon.”

  Janice paused. “That’s the second time you said that. One more time and you’ll have cast a magic spell.”

  It was what her subconscious had been chanting the second he left. “Yeah. I—I’m worried for him. I know you don’t like him much—”

  “I said no such nothing.”

  “Janice! You didn’t even try to be nice to him.”

  “Just because I wasn’t nice to him doesn’t mean I don’t like him.”

  Lindsay worked through all the negative phrasing to conclude, “You like him.”

  “He stood up for you. Which is more than I can say about your ex.”

  “That’s because you didn’t say anything insulting in front of Dan. He didn’t need to defend me.”

  “I was too bored, that’s why. Your Jack gets people fired up.”

  “I don’t know that he’s my Jack.”

  “Who else’s would he be?”

  Tasha’s.

  “How about,” Janice said, “we all have dinner sometime? After Seline’s home? I promise to be sweet as sugar to your honey. Okay?”

  Lindsay smiled at the ludicrousness of that ever happening. “Sure. Soon.”

  And then she caught the sound of footfalls above her. “He’s back!” she said and ended the call without waiting for a reply. Rushing to the staircase, she arrived in time to see Gali step over the threshold. The woman was huddled in Jack’s coat, her grayish skin making her look like an animated statue, her eyes hidden by a pair of extra dark aviator sunglasses. Gali shed the jacket as she descended the stairs
, and beneath it, Lindsay saw that she was still armed with her tarnished pistol and bandolier of knives.

  “Where is he?” she said, brushing past Lindsay.

  “There,” Lindsay pointed to the bedroom, her eyes still focused on the top of the stairwell. Jack stepped onto the landing, a heavy pack strapped to his back.

  Lindsay took the steps three at a time, and threw her arms around him, nearly tumbling them both down the stairs.

  His arms wrapped around her, as much to regain their balance as anything else. “Whoa, Lindsay. What’s going on?”

  She smiled at his bewildered expression. “I’m glad you’re back, that’s all.”

  Jack squeezed her, a smile softening his haggard face. “Glad to be back,” he whispered, then added quickly, “I’m sorry it took so long. Getting up the elevator shaft with this pack was like pushing a truck through a rat hole.”

  “You didn’t run into any trouble, did you?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied. “But Seneca’s gone. Looks like King’s slaves managed to free themselves and get back into the tunnels. Helped themselves to the drugs before they left—that and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. Everything here been okay?”

  “Yeah. Reggie and Tocat slept most of the time. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Jack touched his thumb under her eye, his palm against her cheek. “All night?” His voice was gentle, even humble. Lindsay folded her hand over his. She opened her mouth, but was cut off by Gali’s harsh call.

  “Hey! Can I get some supplies over here?”

  Jack dropped his hand and clumped down the stairs, shucking his pack as he went. It was as if the woman timed it, Lindsay grumped.

  Still there was no doubt that Gali needed help. She’d injected Tocat with her strongest painkiller. It would not be enough. She slipped a tightly wound rag between the gangster’s teeth, and after having Jack sterilize a number of cruel-looking surgical tools, went to work on his knee.

  They had to call on Reggie to hold the man’s legs down, and Jack helped by handing Gali the implements she needed. Lindsay sat behind Tocat and mopped his fevered brow with a cool cloth. The bloody business took a solid hour, and all of them were exhausted by the end.

  Gali pulled off crimson-stained latex gloves and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She bent over to look Tocat in the eye. “Your knee cap got broken into five pieces,” she summarized. “I’ve removed the three smallest ones and wired the other two together. You’re going to have to stay in bed for at least a week, and then you’re going to have to begin rehab if you ever want to walk without crutches. I’m leaving you some heavy antibiotics for infection, and you’ve got to keep taking them for three weeks without fail.”

  Tocat nodded, though his face was deathly pale. “Thanks,” he croaked.

  Gali paused. “You’re a pretty tough guy. I’ve never met a man who could take that much pain without screaming and all that bullshit.”

  Lindsay stared in disbelief at Gali. “The guy had his knee shattered. You make it sound as if feeling pain somehow makes him weak.”

  Gali turned on her. They were less than arm’s length from each other, and her voice dripped venom. “Where I come from weakness means death. Up here, it’s an act princesses like you put on to get a man to help you—even if it means he could get himself killed.”

  Lindsay gasped. “I don’t take Jack for granted.”

  “The hell you don’t. You got your hooks into both him and Reggie, and they’re too blind to see you for the conniving little bitch you are.”

  “Gali! That’s enough,” Jack interrupted.

  She never took her eyes from Lindsay, anger tingeing her gray skin to a faint pink. “Don’t fret, Jack. I’m leaving. Not before I make a prediction. You’ll regret this woman ever walked into your life. And when you do,” she turned to Jack, “come to me. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Gali.” Jack’s voice was soft, but unyielding. “I’m never going to live in the tunnels again. You get that, right?”

  Gali's jaw clenched, then she snapped her attention back to Tocat. “I’ll be back in a few days to check on you. We’ll move you down to Agharta when you’re well enough. In the meanwhile, lie low and keep out of ”—she sneered at Lindsay—“trouble.”

  She scooped up her bloodied instruments and headed for the bedroom door. “I’ll clean these up in the kitchen before I go, and I’m leaving most of the supplies here so I don’t have to lug them up again. And don’t worry. I’ll see myself out.”

  Jack closed the bedroom door behind Gali, and Lindsay, angry as hell, focused on Tocat, handing him a tall glass of water. He gulped it down before turning to Jack.

  “I don’t know why you helped me, man. I owe you. I owe you my life.”

  Jack gave a faint smile. “Don’t worry about it. You focus on getting better.”

  Tocat persisted. “You still want to rescue that topsider from the Moles?”

  Jack gave a wary nod.

  “Good, because I know how to do it.”

  Lindsay felt a burst of excitement. Jack’s brow furrowed. “How?”

  “You know the way to The Pits?”

  “Through Devil’s Crawl. That’s the only way to reach them except for Schenley's Chasm, and that’s impassable.”

  Tocat shook his head. “No, it’s not. We used the elevator at Seneca to get drugs to our distributor, but sometimes the park got too hot and we used a smuggler to get them out though The Chasm.”

  Jack’s frown deepened. “How? The opening to the Hudson is underwater.”

  “There’s a storm drain that reaches it. Our man brought a boat down in pieces and put it back together underground, so now he can carry stuff from Hell’s Kitchen all the way to Dyer’s Pass.”

  “So he could take us right into The Pits,” Jack said, understanding. “Who’s this guy?”

  “His name’s Crabbe. Isaac Crabbe.”

  Jack grabbed pen and paper from the bedside table, noting down the phone number that Tocat gave.

  “Drop my name. Give him a couple grand for the job, and he’ll do it. He knows this city's guts as good as anyone. ”

  Jack shoved the paper into his pants pocket. “Thank you, Tocat. That’s our way in.”

  “Just pay those freaks back for taking out my gang.” Tocat said. “Tecocualli means ‘snakebite’. They may have killed the snake, but that won’t save them from our poison.”

  They left Tocat in peace and gathered in the living room, where Reggie hobbled over to the armchair and eased himself back down into it. Lindsay took cokes from the fridge and passed them out. Above the crack and hiss of cans opening, Reggie said, “So you’re going to go in the way you came out, huh? The Moles won’t be expecting that.”

  Lindsay looked at Jack, puzzled. “You escaped through an underground river?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “The Chasm runs from the Hudson, past The Pits and Agharta, all the way to another community called Dyer’s Pass. I figured I could let its current carry me to the Pass. I didn’t count on how cold or sluggish it would be. It was sheer luck that I made it.”

  Lindsay tried to keep the snark from her voice. “Gali pulled you out, right?”

  “She heard me splashing around down there," he confirmed. "Neil lowered her down on a rope and they managed to drag me up. Without them I would have drowned. It was two weeks before I was well enough to take two steps without help.”

  Reggie smiled at the memory. “Even then you looked like shit. Almost as bad as I did when I made it back to Grand Central.”

  Jack set sharp eyes on Reggie. “You’re not doing so well now, either. You’ll have to rest yourself.”

  Reggie took on a stubborn look. “What about the Moles?”

  “Look at your leg. You’re not going to be any good in a fight for at least a couple of weeks. You’re in good enough shape to take care of Tocat, and you can help Gali get him back underground when the time’s right.”

  “You can’t do it alo
ne, Jack. No way you can carry Seline out of The Pits and hold off the Moles.”

  Lindsay’s chin came up. “That’s why he’s got me.”

  Jack sighed. “Linds, how many times do we have to go over this?”

  She reached for her jacket and her pack. “I don’t know, Jack. How about we tally it up at my place?” She handed him his parka. “Reggie and Tocat could do with some rest, and so could you.”

  She half-expected him to dig in his heels, but he took it from her without hesitating. “I’ll see you later then, Reggie.”

  “Sure. You guys get to bed, okay?” Reggie flashed them a golden grin. “Maybe even sleep.”

  The second Lindsay and Jack got inside her apartment, she headed for the shower, stripping off clothes as she went. Boots, jacket, gloves and socks he expected, then she brazenly peeled off her shirt and was unhooking her bra as she heeled the door closed behind her.

  Despite how tired he was, Jack had a mind to follow her in, shed his clothes and make wild love to her as the warm water sluiced away the blood and grime of the underground. What was she doing getting undressed in front of him anyway, unless she wanted him to follow?

  Outside the door he could hear the patter and slap of the water as it hit her body, and thought of his own hands entering that stream. His jeans grew very tight.

  He turned the doorknob. It was locked.

  Guess not.

  Jack sought refuge in the kitchen, and, going on her previous invitation to make himself at home, he opened the fridge door. Lettuce, yellow pepper, carrots in the crisper, chicken and fish in the freezer and lots of condiments. The buns, at least, were instantly consumable, and there was always cereal. Just like home.

  He concentrated hard on not thinking of Lindsay’s naked body locked away from him at the other end of the apartment, and after what seemed like an eternity he heard her step out.

  “It’s all yours,” she called out, her voice followed by the click of the bedroom door. It’d be a cold day in hell before he made a fool of himself and tried the knob on that one.

  He cleaned himself off quickly, then twisted off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He looked in resignation at his filthy clothing. Nothing wearable. Still, he’d be damned if he was going to put on those—