by David Meyer
I turned at a corner and hustled through a short passageway. At the next corner, I took the turn too quickly. My feet slipped and my hands reached out to brace myself.
It worked, but not enough.
My forehead slammed into the bedrock.
I saw stars. Lifting my hand, I touched my forehead. It felt sticky, gooey. Shifting my light, I studied my fingers and saw smears of fresh blood on them.
Beverly halted behind me. I swung around and faced her. “How bad is it?”
“I suppose it could be worse.” She grimaced. “But not much.”
I felt sticky liquid pouring down my face. “Damn it.”
“You reopened a cut. If you give it some time…”
“We don’t have time.”
I noticed an annoying slur in my voice. It bothered me. Destroying the Bell and rescuing Diane would prove difficult even under the best of circumstances. Losing a lot of blood might ruin our already infinitesimal chance of succeeding.
I turned away from her worried eyes. Pointing my flashlight at the ground, I quickly studied the tunnel that branched off to my left. It looked perfectly ordinary.
Twisting back to the right, I directed my beam down the tunnel and saw bits of mud and wet partial footprints on the bedrock.
I followed them. For the next ninety seconds, I led Beverly down a series of corridors, doing my best to follow the trail. But with every second, it faded.
Blood dripped into my eye. Blinking awkwardly, I swatted it away like a gnat. So far, the wound on my forehead had failed to clot. If I continued to lose blood at my current pace, I wouldn’t have to worry about passing out.
I’d be dead.
I pressed my right palm against my forehead, hoping to quell my blood loss. But my vision dimmed and I began to wonder how much longer I could keep running. Gritting my teeth, I kicked it up a notch and darted through a short, winding passage.
At the end of it, I heard a light shuffling noise. Turning the corner, I saw a silhouette in front of me. It paused for a moment. Then it spun around, pointing a shotgun in our direction.
“It’s us,” I hissed. “Don’t shoot.”
As the silhouette lowered its weapon, I jogged over. I halted next to him and bent down, breathing hard, doing my best not to vomit all over the place. I felt horrible.
After a moment, I looked up and saw Cartwright’s dark, angry eyes.
He flinched. “What the hell happened to your face?”
Lifting a hand, I signaled that I needed a few seconds. Then I stripped off my satchel and shirt. I flopped down on the bedrock, barely noticing its sharp edges. Bunching up the shirt, I pressed it hard against my forehead and began to count slowly in my head.
“Why are you here?”
I opened my mouth to respond. Immediately, a queasy feeling hit my stomach and I doubled over in pain.
“We’re looking for you,” Beverly said. “We want to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You have no electricity, no third rail. As I see it, you’ve got no way of moving the Omega.”
“I’ll stop them.”
To my surprise, my body started to move. My knee jerked under me and then planted on the rock. My sore, scratched palms shifted, one to the wall and the other to the ground. Next thing I knew, I was standing up and struggling to put my shirt back on.
Cartwright shook his head. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Why don’t you just stay down like a normal person?”
My feet wobbled under my heavy body and my mind felt sluggish. But when I spoke, my voice ripped through the air like a jackhammer. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m done running.”
He turned around. In the dim glow afforded by my light, I saw uncertainty in his eyes. “My friends…?”
I shook my head. “They didn’t make it.”
“If you hadn’t followed me down here…”
“Then Chase would’ve found you anyways.” I swallowed thickly. “What’s done is done. All that matters now is destroying the Bell.”
He shook his head. “I already told you. That’s impossible.”
Beverly rolled her eyes. “So, what’s your plan? Sit on top of it with your shotgun?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“We have Hartek’s journal,” she reminded him.
He hesitated. “You realize that this isn’t going to end well.”
My gaze grew hard. “Yes it will.”
He looked closely in my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I can see it in your face. There’s something else going on here, something beyond the Bell.”
I took a deep breath. “Chase is holding a friend of mine hostage.”
“Your lover?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Beverly looking very hard in my direction. I shook my head. “Just a friend.”
“How do I know you won’t try to trade the Bell for her life?”
“Even if I wanted to do it, it wouldn’t work. He’d just kill all of us and take the Bell anyways.”
Cartwright emitted an annoyed sigh. I sensed his internal strife. Abruptly, he turned around and started walking.
I raised an eyebrow at Beverly. She shrugged in return.
I started to follow him through the corridor. We walked for a minute, passing an intriguing metal door along the way.
Suddenly, he stopped. I stepped to the side to avoid bumping into him. Then I looked over his shoulder. “Really? A dead end? When are you going to stop wasting time?”
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he bent down and felt along the bottom of the bedrock wall. His finger pressed something.
I heard a soft crack. The wall shifted open. Turning my beam toward it, I saw a giant room.
It was filled with many things but one object stood out above all the others. As my light glinted off its smooth, metallic exterior, I felt staggered to the core.
“My God,” Beverly whispered. “Oh my God.”
Despite nearly forty years of inactivity, the giant metal monster appeared sleek and polished. My flashlight traced its silver side, illuminating a single word painted in black one-foot high letters. My hand trembled as I read the word.
Omega.
PART V
THE RACE
Chapter 54
Cartwright shoved his hand into my face. Startled, I glanced to the right. “What’s your problem?”
He pointed a finger at the ground. Following it, I spotted a tripwire running just past the open wall.
“Stay here,” he growled. “I need to disable the explosives.”
“You put explosives next to the Bell?” Beverly made a face. “Doesn’t that seem a little, you know, dumb?”
“Just enough to blow up this entranceway,” he replied. “But the tremors wouldn’t reach the Bell. Anyway, the Omega’s a powerful beast. Nothing’s going to pierce her shell.”
“What is this place?”
“The end of the line. According to his notes, Beach got tired of fighting with the politicians. He knew they’d never let him run his system in peace, so he just stopped work and abandoned everything.”
So, that’s why he never went public.
Cartwright stepped carefully through the wall. After he disappeared off to the side, I shifted my flashlight toward the open space.
“Do you see anything we can use?” Beverly asked.
“Not yet. It looks like the other stations we passed through. Just larger and –”
“And what?”
My eyes bugged out. “And you have to see it to believe it. There’s a marble fountain. Chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Windows, fake ones, with velvet curtains. A giant fish tank. Hell, there’s even a grand piano.”
I stepped to the side and she squeezed into the void. For a moment, we stared silently into the station. Then she whistled. “Wow. You have to hand it to Beach…the guy sure had style.”
I felt dizzy. I touch
ed my forehead again. It felt tacky, the kind of slight stickiness one experienced when stepping on dried, spilt beer. Gently, I swept my hand across my head, checking myself for other wounds.
Finding nothing, I shifted my focus to the rest of the room. We stood just outside the western end of the station. To my right, a circular tube entered the room, carrying with it the familiar groove as well as the metal tracks. Beach’s groove continued north, ending at a large pile of debris and trash. The Sand Demons’ tracks drifted off to the east, ending abruptly near the middle of the room.
The Omega rested on those tracks. If it hadn’t been facing the wrong way, it would’ve looked ready to leave the station. Unfortunately, without a third rail, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
The hairs on my arms stood on end. Although it initially seemed wide open, the station suddenly felt closed off and isolated. And although everything had seemed so exciting moments earlier, it now felt ghostly and still.
Cartwright reappeared in front of us. “We’re all clear.”
I walked into the station and took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of dust, trash, and electricity. They were familiar smells but somehow they seemed different. I took another sniff. This time, the odors seemed more muted and indistinguishable.
That’s strange…
I didn’t know what was wrong but I found it unsettling. It felt like I’d lost control of my faculties.
“Are you going to set up the explosives again?” Beverly asked. “They might come in handy against Jack and his guys.”
Cartwright pressed a button, closing the wall behind us and gave her a withering look. “Of course.”
“Are there any others in here that we should avoid?”
“As long as you stay around the Omega, you’ll be fine.”
“Where are your other traps?” I asked.
He jabbed a thumb at the large circular tube. “There’s just one more in the vicinity but it’s a big one. It’s set up in there, just outside the station. Hopefully we won’t have to use it.”
“Did you block off this station?”
He nodded. “We sealed the tube off with one of our doors. It’s just a piece of metal covered with a thin layer of bedrock. If we’re lucky, Chase will think he’s hit a dead-end and turn around. If not, well…”
“Disable the bomb.”
He gave me a funny look. “I made a solemn vow to keep the Bell safe. I’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish that.”
I clenched my fists. “Diane’s out there. If Chase brings her through that way…”
“Not my problem.”
“Then, what about the people on the streets above us? Don’t you care about them?”
“They won’t feel it.” He crossed his arms. “The bedrock will cut off any impact long before it reaches the surface.”
I felt my face grow red. I started to step forward but a small, delicate hand cut me off.
Beverly looked at me. “Cool it.”
I gestured at Cartwright. “Why don’t you talk to him? He’s the one who—”
“I’m talking to you. We need to focus on what matters here. And before we do anything, we need to destroy the Bell.”
I exhaled a few times then walked past Cartwright. As I crossed the station, I felt my anger boiling inside of me. I wanted it to consume me. Reluctantly, I shoved it aside instead.
The pile of debris and trash at the end of the groove caught my attention for a second time. It lay against the north wall, directly in front of some large markings. I could see the exact spot where Beach had planned to continue his tubes but ended up halting construction instead.
For some reason, it filled me with hope. Maybe it was the area’s untapped potential. Maybe it was the unexploited resources that we might find within the debris. Either way, it was the first real positive feeling I’d felt since seeing the Omega. I stowed it away deep inside, knowing I might need it later.
I stopped next to the Omega. Three sets of wide doors were spread out in front of me. The two sets in the rear were closed while the one in the front was wide open.
It was a beautiful car, free of rust and dust. It looked like the Sand Demons had taken good care of her over the years.
I saw a couple of long thick power cables nearby. They rose off the ground and disappeared through a tiny crack in the rearmost window. Shifting my gaze, I tried to follow them, but thick blankets on the inside kept me from seeing the car’s interior.
Lifting my hand, I brushed it against the siding. Shivers ran down my spine. I could almost feel the history and pain that the car had brought on all those who’d touched it. Rictor and his brothers killed the lab assistants while using the Omega to steal the Bell. They themselves, along with Hartek, died when Cartwright hijacked it. The Sand Demons then spent the best years of their lives living like hermits, watching over the car, always wondering if someone was about to steal it from them.
Am I the next to fall under the curse? Or will I break the cycle?
I walked to the front of the car. Holding my breath, I boarded the Omega, as if that act would somehow ward off its curse. But my effort didn’t last long. As I strode into the interior, I exhaled loudly.
The seats were punctured with small holes and splattered with bloodstains. Closing my eyes, I could almost picture the gunfight between the Rictors and the Sand Demons.
I turned my attention to the back half of the subway car. A wide thick blanket hung from the ceiling, cutting off my view into the rear portion.
I knew Beverly was behind me, but I could no longer feel her presence. The blanket dominated my attention. While unremarkable on its own, it carried heavy symbolism for me.
It was the last remaining barrier between the Bell and me.
I walked over to it. As I grasped its coarse edge, I wondered what secrets I’d find on the other side. Would the Bell look the same as I’d imagined it? Could we destroy it?
I pulled the blanket out of the way. My beam lifted, casting into the space.
I froze.
The flashlight fell from my fingertips. It bounced on the floor and rolled. I felt a sudden reverence as if I stood before the Almighty Himself.
“Oh my God,” Beverly whispered. “Is it…?”
“It’s not touching the ground,” I replied dumbly. “The damn thing’s floating. It’s floating in mid-air.”
Chapter 55
My brain wrestled with my eyes as I stared at the large floating object in front of me. I couldn’t comprehend the thing, couldn’t rationalize it. And yet, I knew my eyes weren’t lying.
My wildest impulses rose to the forefront, eager to accept the miracle at face value. But my analytical side slammed them to a halt. Adopting, a cold, methodical viewpoint, I began to study the object in earnest.
It was quite similar to the drawings I’d seen in Hartek’s journal. Shaped like a bell, it measured about six feet tall and four feet at its widest point. Its outer surface appeared to be constructed from some sort of brownish-colored metal. More than a dozen ring-shaped attachments sprouted out from various places along the metal exterior. At first glance, they looked like part of a suspension mechanism, used to hoist the Bell into the air. But another look at the free-floating object stopped that theory cold in its tracks.
Although the Bell stood perfectly still, it seemed to have a life of its own. It crackled slightly and emanated the occasional spark of electricity. I heard faint buzzing and hissing noises that when combined, sounded a bit like a large beehive.
Twisting my head, I searched for invisible wires or some sort of platform that might explain the Bell’s defiance of the law of gravity. After a brief search, I noticed the high-voltage electrical cables I’d seen outside the Omega. They poured in through an open window and branched off, disappearing into numerous ports on all sides of the Bell. At first, they seemed like a promising explanation to the mystery. But almost immediately, I realized that the cables were slack and not supporting a single pound. If anything, their
presence actually added weight to the Bell.
I recalled the rigging installed in Hartek’s laboratory. At the time, I’d thought it was designed to keep the Bell off the ground for the purpose of experimentation. Now, it struck me that its real purpose might’ve been to keep the Bell from floating away.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it. Clearly, the object weighed a ton. So, how was it able to hover in the air like that with no visible means of support?
“When I first laid eyes on that thing, Hartek called it the Ark. He told me that God himself lived inside of it.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Cartwright standing behind us. His face appeared flushed and he looked harried. But I caught a wistful, childlike flash in his eyes. Despite more than three decades, it was clear the Bell’s magic hadn’t diminished for the grizzled old Sand Demon.
“More like the Devil,” I replied. “How’s it able to stay afloat?”
“I don’t know. My friends and I knew everything there was to know about subway systems. But we weren’t scientists.”
Beverly waved her hand to the side. “What do those cables do?”
“I don’t know that either. But Hartek warned us to keep it operational at all times to avoid an explosion. And part of keeping it operational is maintaining a constant flow of electricity.”
“Where do you steal your power from anyways?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Somehow, I doubt you’re paying your own electric bill.”
“All of these tunnels are wired for power. Years ago, we modified Beach’s electrical systems to fit our needs. Then we hooked everything up to the underground power lines that run above us. I won’t go into the details but there’s very little chance that our, uh, adjustments will ever be noticed. And if they were discovered by some fluke chance, no one could ever trace them down here.”
“What about power outages?”
He shrugged. “The Bell can last several hours without power. In any event, we have numerous back-up options at our disposal.”
“You spent a lot of time and energy protecting this thing.”
“We didn’t exactly have a choice,” he replied tightly. “It was either that or risk an explosion. It wasn’t easy, I can tell you that much. There were some moments, especially early on, where I thought we’d fail. But somehow, we always found a way to keep the Bell operating.”
