by Scott Mebus
Rory sniffed, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I should have protected her.”
“You did. You have the bullet in your pocket, right?”
Rory felt his pocket, where the bullet radiated heat onto his palm.
“It’s still there. What is it?”
“That’s Bridget’s soul. A soul pistol doesn’t kill you; it simply separates your soul from your body.”
“That doesn’t sound simple,” Rory said, his fingers curling protectively over the bullet.
“Is it still warm?”
Rory nodded. Fritz fiddled with his helmet, straightening one of the antennae.
“Then she’s okay. Don’t worry. Once we reach the surface, we’ll figure this thing out. We’ll get her body back and everything will be fine. I promise.”
Rory silently vowed to get Bridget back to normal if it was the last thing he did. He couldn’t bear to think of her soul trapped in that tiny bullet. He felt water sting his eyes; he was thankful the underground stream hid his tears.
“She wanted to help. And look what it did to her. I told her! Why didn’t she stay home?”
Fritz cast a hard eye on his companion.
“If she’d stayed home, you’d be in Hex’s hands right now with no one on the way to save you. So be thankful for her sacrifice. Hex doesn’t want her; he wants you. We’ll fix this, you’ll see. Just have faith.”
“How can we trust him to give her back?”
“We’ll think of something.”
“Do you think he really shot his own son?” Rory asked.
Fritz nodded sadly. “I think so.”
“I don’t understand,” Rory said bitterly. “I mean, I feel bad about the Munsees and all, but it’s not worth this. Why is Hex willing to throw everything away to let them loose?”
“When he came to us fifty years ago, it seemed to make sense,” Fritz answered. “After all, what could be wrong with letting the Munsees free?”
“Then why did Jason refuse to turn the key?” Rory wondered.
“I don’t know,” Fritz replied, sounding puzzled. “But when the bad guys and the good guys want the same thing, then you have to step back and think that maybe you don’t have all the facts. At the time, we just thought it was a wrong that needed righting. Captain Lymph—he was my old commander who headed the mission—he seemed to understand the reasons. We were angry at the Mayor for what he tried to make us do, and a little guilty as well.”
“You mean that guy Alexander Hamilton?” Rory asked. “Hex told me about him.”
“My cockroach clan, the M’Garoths, used to be his private guard,” Fritz said. Rory snorted at the thought of those tiny roaches guarding a god, then immediately felt bad when Fritz looked offended.
“We may be small, but we were good at our job,” Fritz said haughtily. “We weren’t his bodyguards or anything. We were more like…policemen, I guess. His eyes and ears on the ground.”
Low to the ground, Rory thought, but he didn’t say it. “What happened?”
“It was a hundred years ago or so,” Fritz said, his eyes distant. “I had only just reached the age where I could scout for the patrols. And we came upon someone just like you, Rory. We discovered a Light. He was a four-year-old boy living in a beaten-up old tenement near the Brooklyn Bridge. Cute kid, I thought. We had strict instructions to report any Light we encountered, so we rushed back to tell the Mayor. And then…then he asked us to kill the boy.”
“What!”
“Kieft was there, egging the Mayor on, of course. And to be fair, the Mayor didn’t seem too enthused about the order. But he told us to do it all the same. So my clan packed up all our belongings and walked out on our employer. The Mayor had been becoming more and more erratic since the Trap, and this was the last straw for us. We were guardsmen, battle roaches—not murderers. And we’ve been hiding ever since. If the Mayor ever finds us, it would probably mean the end of my clan.”
Rory took a closer look at Fritz. With his small human head popping out of the brown cockroach body, he looked like two very different action figures glued together by an evil five-year-old. Fritz noticed Rory’s curiosity.
“It’s strange to see you looking at me and not going blank a few seconds later. Not that I minded. That little trick kept you alive.”
“How much do you know about me, anyway?”
“Well, my clan settled just south of you, under Dyckman Park. And when you crossed my path over twelve years ago, I had to pay attention.”
“So you’ve been watching over me practically my whole life?” Rory asked.
Fritz looked embarrassed.
“‘Watching over’ is a strong phrase. I first noticed you when you were six months old. Your mom was pushing you down Broadway in your stroller. I was crawling up the wall of this one restaurant I know that has great chimichangas. I mean the best.”
“You talking about El Cid?”
“You bet. There’s magic in that kitchen.”
“It’s Bridget’s favorite.”
Fritz looked down.
“She has good taste.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment. Rory checked the bullet again to make sure it was still warm. Panic rose inside him as he thought of the time they were wasting floating along here in this endless tunnel. Perhaps sensing that Rory needed the distraction, Fritz took up the story again.
“Anyway, your mother lifted you out of your stroller, and you laughed. It caught my attention because of your sheer delight. It feels good to hear a laugh like that on a beautiful day. Then I realized you were laughing at me. Because I had been in such a rush to get to those sweet chimichangas, I’d forgotten to put on my helmet. And you saw! You were laughing at the silly man with the bug body. I realized what this could mean, so I followed you home. Then a week later I came back with my second in command, Hoyt. We did our age-old test, which involved some not particularly flattering faces, and you laughed again. There was no doubt that you could see us.”
Now they were coming to the part that had worried Rory from the beginning.
“And what am I? Hex told me I could see what’s true.”
Fritz tilted his head to the side in mild astonishment.
“Wow, he told you the truth for once. That’s pretty much right. I don’t pretend to be an expert, but from what I’ve learned you can see the world as it really is, in all of its many layers. And through you, other people can see it, too. It’s a great gift.”
“Hex told me I was the only one.”
“As far as I know, that’s also true. There might be a two-or three-year-old who’s made it this far unnoticed, but once he’s caught looking at things he shouldn’t be able to see, he’ll disappear like all the others.”
Rory shifted uneasily, his stomach tensing with fear.
“Taken by a Stranger?”
The roach nodded, his eyes pained.
“I guess the Mayor decided they were more reliable than battle roaches, though I don’t know for sure if the Strangers are working for him. Maybe they work for Kieft. Maybe neither, though I seriously doubt it. All I do know is that usually Lights are taken by the time they reach four years old. As far as I know, only one kid lasted longer. He made it to nine.”
Rory thought of a grief-stricken paper face.
“Toy.”
“Jason. Don’t call him that awful name. His name was Jason Hill. His father’s name is, or was, Tom Hill. I thought he’d died just like his poor son. I was wrong.”
“Did you know Jason well?”
“Yeah, I did,” Fritz said sadly. “I was assigned to keep watch over him before the raid. He was a great kid. Lively, good at word games. And, boy, did he love to talk. Kind of like your sister. She reminds me of him, actually. And to think his own father stuck him in that paper prison with no tongue.”
Rory checked the bullet one more time. Fritz noticed and gave him a sad smile.
“Still warm, right? As long as that bullet burns under your to
uch, she’ll be fine. She’s a strong girl.”
Rory refused to cry again as they floated down the dark river in silence. His thoughts turned to Bridget. He’d save her. He still had the lock and the key. He’d find Hex and put on that stupid belt. This time, there would be no holding back. It didn’t matter to him why Jason had refused to do the job all those years ago. Rory would turn that key, let the Munsees free, and get his sister back. It was the only way.
Fighting to keep his emotions under control, Rory focused on the passing walls that sloped upward in an arc above them. Trying to get his mind off the burning bullet in his pocket, he asked Fritz about them.
“What are these tunnels? They seem ancient.”
“I believe they were part of the original pipe system that brought the water from the reservoir upstate down into the city. It was built over a hundred and fifty years ago. Then the whole system was changed, leaving these forgotten old tunnels half-filled with water, mostly from the rivers. They connect with some of the old sewers. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of underground pipes and abandoned subway tunnels and even some natural caves beneath the city. And you don’t want to bother some of the folk who live in them, let me tell you. We should be fine on this little stream, though. I hope.”
“Where do we get out?”
Fritz was watching the ceiling, which arched about six feet above Rory’s head.
“I’m sure I’ll see something I recognize soon enough. If those gang members can find their way through this, then I know I can.”
21
DOWN
Rory didn’t know how much time had passed. His stomach felt like a knotted mess as he obsessively checked the bullet for signs of cooling, all the while praying that Fritz could find his way. The tunnel had changed, rock replacing concrete, and Fritz looked openly worried as he searched the walls for something familiar.
“You recognize anything?” Rory asked hopefully.
“I’ve never seen tunnels like this before. I’m sorry. I have no idea where we are.”
“So we’re lost.”
“There has to be a way out!” Fritz insisted. “If there’s a way in, there’s a way out.”
“What if the way out was back the way we came? Maybe we missed a turn.”
“I don’t understand this. Between my people and the rats, we’ve mapped every inch of the underground. We know where every abandoned subway station is, even where the deep homes of some of the low people are. But nobody’s ever seen this. Not that I know of. Look at that!”
He pointed up toward the ceiling. Rory could just make out a faint white sigil painted on the stone. It seemed like a long cigar that tapered off at the end. Small lines surrounded it, making a strange pattern. Fritz peered at it intently.
“I think it’s Lenape. Probably the Munsee dialect. But I don’t recognize it. Not that I’m a Munsee scholar, but I know enough to get around. Wait, what’s that behind it?”
A V with a line shooting up from it like a mast on a ship stood out faintly on the ancient stone. Rory turned his head to study the symbol as they floated under it, trying to get a good look. He squinted.
“Looks kind of like an arrow. Pointing down.”
Fritz rubbed his hands together as he pondered the drawing.
“I don’t think so. All of this must have been built by the Munsees. Munsee culture has always been a hobby of mine. You know, most city folk, even the council, think that the Munsees never built anything more complicated than a hut. But they just kept their greater works hidden. This tunnel probably led out to a swamp back then. The Munsees were more advanced than people realized. They had quite the list of sigils. So I think we can safely say that that sign was a bit more complicated than just some arrow pointing down—
“What’s that sound?”
Rory heard it, too, a roaring sound that was quickly growing louder. He felt his stomach sink.
“That sounds like a waterfall.”
There was a pause as Fritz took this in.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Maybe it was an arrow pointing down. We need to get off!”
The roaring grew louder, and now Rory could feel the river speeding up, pulling them toward the underground drop. He looked around for a way to escape.
“The water’s moving too fast, and the current’s too strong!” he yelled, quickly seeing the problem. “You guys would never make it to the wall. You’d be swept over.”
“But you’ve got a chance,” Fritz yelled over the ever-growing roar. “Go on!”
“But what about my sister?”
“Hex will find you and he’ll give you back her body, don’t worry. Quickly, swim for it! You’re running out of time.”
Rory could hear the waterfall rapidly approaching. He didn’t want to let Fritz and Clarence go over, not to mention, he didn’t want to be left alone with a warm bullet he didn’t know what to do with, lost underground. The tunnel walls came closer as he floated along, heading for the fall. He looked down the length of the alligator and, just like that, an idea came to him.
“I’m gonna try something. Hang on!” he yelled.
“Don’t be stupid. Save yourself!” Fritz protested.
Rory ignored him, pulling himself forward until he was holding on to the very tip of the alligator’s snout. Then he began to swim backward, pulling with all his might. He reached out and grazed the stone wall briefly with his fingertips, and that was enough to help him drag the alligator’s head sideways. The waterfall was deafening, making Fritz’s yelling impossible to hear, which was probably just as well. Rory had just about dragged the alligator fully sideways when he looked ahead. He could see a dark space that could only be the drop. He hoped he was right. He held on tight as the gator sped up to the edge of the waterfall and started to plunge over.
Rory was jammed into the body of the gator as it suddenly stopped short. He looked up and gave a sigh of relief. The tunnel had become narrow enough that the body of the alligator wedged between the walls right at the mouth of the falls, saving them from going over, just as he’d hoped. But the water was rushing up against it, and Rory could see that it would soon be pushed through and over. He screamed over the noise.
“Get off! Quick!”
Fritz didn’t need to be told twice. He and Clarence scurried down the neck and over the head of the alligator, hopping off onto the stones just above the waterfall.
“Come on, Rory! It’s moving!” Fritz yelled. Sure enough, the gator was being pushed over the edge by the relentless stream. Rory felt the body give way and he barely had time to reach out and grab a rock before the gator was swept away and over, falling down into the black. Rory almost followed it down; it took all his strength to keep his grip on the rock. His legs were swept over the edge, and suddenly he was dangling over the big empty hole, the water falling past him on its way to the depths of the earth.
“Pull yourself up, Rory!” Fritz cried.
Rory’s arms screamed. They’d been holding on to the alligator for so long now they were tired from all the work. It would be so much easier to just let go….
“No, Rory!” Fritz sounded frantic. But Rory almost did it. He almost let go. It was the bullet in his pocket that gave him strength. He wasn’t going to give up on Bridget. He wasn’t his father. He’d promised to save her, and he would. This thought gave him a new burst of strength, and he used it to pull himself up and over the rock. A small space lay between the falls and the wall, and he collapsed there, amazed to be alive. The battle roach crept up to his side.
“That was a very brave thing to do,” Fritz said into his ear. “Thank you.”
Rory nodded, not having the strength to answer. He watched the water shoot out into the dark and disappear into the black hole beneath them. Then he noticed something.
“Is that another passage?”
Around the hole the water was falling into lay a small ledge of stone; on the other side he could see another tunnel. This tunnel was dry, though Rory couldn’t tell ho
w far in it went. He pushed himself up to his knees.
“I guess we can try that way.”
Fritz smiled, nodding in relief.
“I guess we can.”
It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. They had to inch their way along the narrow ledge to the other side. Rory had to keep himself from looking down at the endless drop beneath him.
“How far do you think that goes down?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Fritz answered, petting Clarence to keep him calm as they made their way. “A long, long way. My granddad used to tell us about a huge cavern deep underground where monsters live on the shore of a bottomless lake. If the creatures catch you, they tie rocks to your feet and throw you in, where you sink for eternity to the center of the earth. But my granddad was kind of full of it, so I don’t know.”
“I hope I never find out,” Rory said with feeling.
They reached the other side and fell gratefully into the new tunnel. There were no glowing plants to light their way, so all Rory could see was nothing.
Fritz called up from his feet as he hopped up on Clarence. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the lead.” He stuck on his helmet. “My helmet has pretty good night vision, so I can see a little bit. Just keep a hand on the wall to stop yourself from falling and follow me.”
Clarence reared back and scurried off into the dark tunnel. Rory put a hand on the cold rock and followed them into the shadows.
After what seemed like an eternity walking in the dark, Rory caught sight of a dim light ahead. Reaching the source, they stepped out into a man-made tunnel with small lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling.
“This is a good sign!” Fritz said cheerfully. Looking back the way he came, Rory saw that the tunnel they’d come through was a dark, dank hole in the wall. He shuddered to think of where he’d just been. How close did he come to falling into that underground cavern Fritz’s granddad told him about? He patted the bullet in his pocket, but what he felt gave him a shock.
