New York Deep

by Andrew J. Morgan

  But he didn't.

  'All right, well, let's get you out of there, then,' Craig shouted. 'Sorry I took so long getting the ladder.'

  So long? 'That's . . . okay.' Josh turned around and made his way back over to Craig, following the moonlike hole glowing in the darkness. Before he approached, he stopped, waiting for the dizziness to abate.

  'You okay?' Craig asked, feeding down the ladder for Josh to climb.

  'Yeah, fine, just . . .' Josh paused. 'Just a little light-headed,' he added finally.

  'Does sound like gas. Probably a natural pocket.'

  'Let's get out of here.'

  Josh climbed out of the room, and wandered behind Craig back through the fresh tunnel toward the rest of the team.

  'Are you all right?' Craig asked again. 'You seem quiet. Gas got you feeling rough?'

  Josh snapped from his thoughts. 'Huh? Oh, yeah, probably.'

  'Maybe you should see the doctor?'

  'Yeah, maybe . . .'

  They said nothing more until they reached the rest of the group, who awaited their return expectantly. They stared at Josh and he stared back, saying nothing.

  'Well . . .' Craig said, talking for Josh, 'seems like there could well be gas in there, so I suggest we call it a day.'

  The team groaned. 'What was down there?' Robert asked. Craig looked to Josh.

  'Nothing,' Josh said. 'And something.'

  The awkward silence that followed was broken by Craig, who said, 'All right, let's get on out of here. Come on.'

  The team made audible protests, but did what they were told. As they all headed back to the train, Craig radioed in. 'Lionel, we're on our way out. There's a big space down here. I think there might be gas.'

  'Okay, see you when you get up here.'

  Josh wanted to be sick. Perhaps it was the gas? Perhaps he just needed some fresh air. As they reached the staging area and boarded the elevator, rising up out of the ground and into the light of day, Josh felt a little better. Less tired. Just needed some fresh air after all. A dull, distant headache lingered.

  On the surface, he found Lionel.

  'What can you report?' Lionel asked.

  'There's . . .' Josh started, but stopped. He could feel panic making his insides tremble. He wanted to ignore what he knew was true, blame it on the gas or something like that, but he couldn't. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I have to go.' With that he stumbled away, leaving Lionel confused, watching him leave.

  'Josh!' Lionel called out after him. 'Are you all right?'

  Josh ignored him. The dizziness was coming back, the world spinning, the flames licking at his flesh. How it had burned, how the pain had become him. There was something else there, something that itched in his mind but could not be reached to scratch. Footsteps thumped behind him and a hand clapped on his shoulder as Lionel caught up with him, keeping him upright as he staggered onward.

  'Josh, maybe you should come and sit down, okay?'

  Unable to speak, Josh let Lionel lead him to the temporary office building at the edge of the site, where he took a seat while Lionel went to call an ambulance. Once Lionel was gone, Josh was up again, stumbling his way out of the building and on toward the entrance. Through the gates and onto the street, he headed for the subway, for home.

  The cool darkness of the subway calmed his nerves a little, leveled his head. He needed to focus, to think about what had happened and make sense of it. But when he did, his head seared with pain, the flames rising and the ground trembling.

  When he exited the subway, a couple of missed calls from Lionel appeared on his cell, but he ignored them. Putting everything to the back of his mind as best he could, he boarded a bus to take him back to his apartment. As they passed by 82nd, he pressed the bell, causing the bus driver to lurch the bus to a halt. Josh jumped up and ran down the aisle, squeezing past other passengers to get off.

  'Don't leave it so late next time,' the bus driver reprimanded him as he jumped off. The doors shut behind him and the bus pulled away as he pointed in the direction of Georgie's apartment. He ran there as fast as he could.

  Letting himself into the building, he staggered up the stairs, tripping, scrambling his way up to her front door. He pressed the buzzer and rapped as hard as he could, his knuckles stinging.

  'Georgie!' he yelled. 'Georgie!'

  There was no answer. He rang and knocked a few more times, until he was sure she wasn't there. Back against the wall, he slid to the floor, lungs heaving, heart thrumming. She would be back soon. He would wait. He tipped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes.

  Flames flashed and flickered behind his eyelids, burning his retinas. His body, it felt . . . thin. Stretched. Spread too far, like it didn't fit right. He wanted to cry, to ease the fire in his eyes, but he had no tears. He was drained.

  'Josh . . .' a voice said. Josh opened his eyes. It was Georgie, at the top of the stairs, with Joseph. 'What are you doing here?'

  'Daddy!' Joseph squealed. Georgie held him still.

  'Hey, Joseph,' Josh said, scrambling up to his feet, swaying clumsily. 'Georgie, you're . . . I was waiting for you.'

  Georgie, keeping her distance, pulled Joseph closer. 'Shouldn't you be at work?' she asked. She looked on with disgust as Josh struggled to stay standing. 'Are you . . . are you drunk?'

  Josh was appalled. 'Drunk? I'm not drunk! I just need to talk to you.'

  Georgie shook her head. 'Now's not the time, Josh. Maybe later, when you've sobered up.'

  'I'm not drunk!' Josh shouted, making Georgie jump. The disgust became fear. 'I'm sorry,' Josh said. 'I didn't mean to shout. I just need to talk to you. It's very important. Please.'

  Georgie considered him for a few moments, hesitating. Finally, she said, 'Okay, but let me take Joseph in first and put him in his room. We can talk out here.'

  Josh nodded. It was the best he was going to get, and he knew it. He moved aside to let Georgie by, who watched him as she unlocked the door and let herself in. Once inside, Josh heard the bolt and chain slide into place.

  'Shit . . .' he said to himself. She wasn’t going to come back. She was probably calling the police, in fact. He'd have to go. Waiting a moment more, he then decided to leave, turning for the stairwell. As he made for the stairs, the bolt and chain slid once more, and he spun to see Georgie standing in the doorway, arms folded.

  'This'd better be good,' she said. Her face was no longer harsh; if anything there may have been some sympathy there. Josh walked back toward her, slowly, leaving enough distance to let her feel safe.

  'The CIA . . .' Josh said. 'They—they're going to be looking for me.'

  Georgie's expression turned to one of disbelief. 'The CIA?' she repeated. 'What did you do?'

  'No,' Josh said, shaking his head. 'Not yet. Soon.'

  Even more confused, Georgie repeated, 'Soon? I don't understand what you mean, Josh.'

  Wringing his hands with frustration, trying to fight the fire burning in his head, Josh croaked, 'Soon, Georgie, soon. The CIA . . . they're coming for me. I—I found something, something powerful, something they didn't want me to find. We have to go, Georgie, now, before it's too late and everything—' Josh stopped himself, if only to cease the white hot pain behind his eyes. As they cooled and his vision returned, he saw Georgie making to shut the door. 'Please, Georgie, no! You've got to listen to me!'

  'You're drunk, Josh,' she said as the door swung shut.

  Josh leaped forward and threw his arm in the gap, crying out as the door pinched it against the frame.

  'Josh, what are you doing?' Georgie yelled, opening the door again to see Josh stagger backward, cradling his arm.

  'I can prove it . . .' Josh said, tears pricking his vision. 'Come with me and I'll prove it. Please. I'm not drunk.'

  Again, Georgie was faced with a dilemma. 'I can't leave Joseph,' she said.

  'Bring him with us.'

  'Are you sure it's safe?'

  Josh nodded quickly. 'It will be if we go now.'

&nb
sp; Georgie still wasn't convinced, so Josh approached her, hunched forward, holding his throbbing arm against his chest. She backed away, and Josh stopped.

  'Please,' he said. 'Please. Trust me. I know I've not been there for you in the past, but I'm here for you now, and I need you to trust me. Please.'

  Georgie hesitated. 'You're telling the truth?'

  Nodding, Josh said, 'Yes, one hundred percent.'

  Shifting weight from leg to leg, Georgie sighed. Then she dropped her arms by her sides. 'Fine. Let me get Joseph.' She receded back into the apartment, leaving the door ajar. Josh waited, anxiousness boiling in his gut. They needed to go. They needed to already be gone.

  When Georgie returned, she had Joseph. 'If it turns out you're lying,' she said sternly, 'I'm gone. You'll never see me or Joseph again, do you understand?'

  'Yes.'

  'Come on then, let's get this over with.'

  She followed Josh down the stairs, out into the street. They walked down to Northern Boulevard, where Josh hailed a cab. They all climbed in; Josh told the driver to head down to Manhattan, 63rd and 3rd.

  'Where are we going?' Georgie asked.

  'The East Side Access,' Josh told her. 'You'll see why.'

  As they left Queens and entered Manhattan, reaching the site, Josh signaled the driver to pull over.

  'This is still on the clock,' the driver told him.

  'That's fine,' Josh said. To Georgie, he said, 'Watch.'

  At first, Georgie seemed confused; then the sirens began to ring out. Soon, a group of police cars were forming up outside the site entrance, where Lionel appeared to meet them. They could not hear the conversation Lionel had with one of the officers, but Josh didn't need to. They talked for a while, then the officer left for the site, leaving Lionel with another.

  'I don't get it,' Georgie said, voice low. 'What's happening?'

  'Watch,' Josh said, staring out at the scene. They watched for a few minutes more, until two black SUVs arrived. The men who got out looked like accountants, but Josh knew who they really were.

  'CIA . . .' Georgie breathed.

  Josh nodded. 'CIA.'

  'Hey, what's going on here?' the driver asked. 'I don't want to get involved with no CIA espionage shit. You can get out if you think that's gonna happen.'

  'No,' Josh said, 'we can go. Please take us back.'

  'Okay,' the driver said. 'But that's it, right? No more federal government shit?'

  'No more.'

  'All right.'

  They headed back out of Manhattan, back into Queens and toward Jackson Heights. As they were about to pull onto 82nd, Josh asked the driver to pull over. The driver grumbled, but agreed; the fare was mounting up, after all.

  'Georgie, will you come and get some lunch with me? There's something else I want to show you.'

  'I've already eaten, Josh. I've done what you asked, and I want to go home. The driver's right—I don't want to be involved with any of this either.'

  'Thank you, ma'am,' the driver said.

  'Stay out of this please,' Josh said back to the driver. 'Georgie, please. It's the last thing I'll ask of you. It will all make sense, I promise.'

  Georgie considered Josh's proposal, then nodded. 'Fine. But no more, okay?'

  Josh smiled. His head was feeling better. 'Thank you. Driver, please take us to 103rd, Lou's Pizzeria please.'

  'Sure thing.'

  The driver dropped them off at Lou's Pizzeria on 103rd, and Josh paid the man. 'You better watch your back,' the driver said in parting before driving away, shaking his head. Josh chose to ignore him, following Georgie and Joseph into the restaurant. He chose a table by the window, overlooking the bait and tackle shop, above which was his apartment. The stairs that led up there were visible from the pizzeria.

  They sat down, and Josh passed Georgie a menu.

  'Why are we in a pizza place opposite your apartment?' she asked.

  'You'll see,' Josh said, watching out of the window. 'It might take a while, but you'll see.'

  'A while? How long is a while?'

  'I don't know.'

  Georgie sighed. 'You're paying for this pizza, right?'

  'Of course.'

  'Fine, I'll have three slices of Hawaiian then.'

  Josh gave their order to one of Lou's finest, and soon they were tucking in. Josh didn't think he'd have much of an appetite, but once he started eating, he realized how famished he was. He could feel his energy returning, the blood flowing back to his face, the tingling in his extremities fading away.

  'So what do they want?' Georgie said between mouthfuls of pizza.

  'Don't worry, I haven't done anything wrong,' Josh said. 'You enjoying your pizza, Joseph?'

  Joseph, tomato sauce all around his mouth, nodded enthusiastically.

  'Don't worry?' Georgie said in disbelief. 'You somehow knew the CIA would be coming to your site, and you think I shouldn't worry? How did you know, anyway?'

  'It's hard to explain. I'm not entirely sure why myself.'

  'And what do you expect to happen here, at Lou's Pizzeria of all places?'

  'I don't know for sure.'

  Georgie dropped her slice back on her plate. 'Then why are we sitting here? This pizza—' She cut herself off, leaning closer to whisper. 'This pizza's awful. You know it is.'

  'Joseph seems to be enjoying it.'

  'Joseph is three years old. He enjoys most things.'

  Josh sighed. He needed to buy some more time, but he knew he wasn't going to get away with dodging Georgie's questions for much longer. 'They're going to come to my apartment, they're going to break in, and they're going to steal a picture of us.'

  Georgie almost spat her mouthful of pizza out. 'What?' she said.

  Josh said nothing, looking down at the table.

  'First—if that is true—how do you even know that? And secondly, why would they do such a thing?'

  Josh looked around, knee bobbing, trying to think of the best way to phrase what he needed to say next. 'They want to—to—'

  Not sure how best to put it, Josh ran his index finger across his throat. Georgie shook her head.

  'No, Josh. This is ridiculous. I don't know what's wrong with you, but I suggest you see a doctor, a good one.' She stood up. 'I'm going now, okay? Please don't follow me, and please don't try to contact me either.'

  'Georgie, please,' Josh said, also standing up. 'All I ask is another hour, two at the most, then you can go. That's it. If nothing happens, I'll never contact you again. I'll get help. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I'm begging you.'

  Georgie, eyes narrowed, stared at Josh. She saw something, some honesty, some truth, because she sat down again, albeit slowly. 'You really believe this, don't you?' she said.

  'I do. I—I have to. And I need you to believe it, too. Otherwise . . .' He trailed off.

  'All right—two hours, and that's it.'

  'Two hours. Thank you.'

  The next hour and a half passed with small talk, and Josh even began to enjoy himself. He'd always loved Georgie's company; she had a way of making him laugh like no one else could. She was smiling, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, as she told Josh about a friend of hers.

  'I couldn't believe it,' she said. 'You could see the string poking out of her shorts and—ugh, I can't even say it!'

  'That's awful,' Josh said. 'Did anyone tell her?'

  'How can you?' Georgie exclaimed. 'What do you say? Excuse me, your ripcord's showing? You can't just say something like that to someone!'

  Josh shook his head. 'No, I suppose not. Wow, though. Just wow.'

  'Tell me about it.'

  A silence followed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. As the afternoon grew late, the shadow cast by the buildings opposite left only the glow of the table lamp to see by in the dingy pizzeria. Georgie was beautiful to Josh anyway, but with this light she was stunning. 'I miss this,' Josh said.

  Georgie nodded. 'Me too.'

  Joseph, who'd been drawing with crayons, leaned up against
Georgie. 'I'm sleepy,' he said. Georgie cuddled him, stroking his hair.

  'That's okay, baby. We'll be leaving soon.'

  Josh looked at his watch; only fifteen minutes until the agreed deadline arrived. Joseph moaned, burying himself deeper into Georgie's chest. 'I wanna go home!' he said, voice muffled.

  Georgie looked at Josh. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I should take him back.'

  Josh wanted to fight for those last fifteen minutes, but there was no point. 'All right then. Can I call you a cab?'

  'No, that's okay,' Georgie said, standing and picking up Joseph, whose bottom lip was starting to tremble. 'It's a short walk.'

  'Okay, if you're sure. Here, take my coat. It's cold out.'

  'Thank you,' Georgie said, letting him drape it over her shoulders. She turned to face Josh; they were close. He could feel her warm breath on his face. 'Listen,' she said, 'whatever's going on, I hope you get it sorted out. I didn't mean what I said earlier; I still want you to be in my life, and Joseph's life especially. If you need anything, let me know and I'll do my best to help you out.'

  'I appreciate that,' Josh said. He put his arms around her and gave her and Joseph a quick hug. 'I'm sorry about today. I—I need to have a lie down or something, that's all.'

  'Okay. Well, I hope you feel better.'

  Josh went to the counter to pay the bill, and as he was collecting his change, Georgie called to him.

  'Josh! Come here, quick!'

  Josh turned to see two black SUVs pulling up outside his apartment.

  Chapter 11

  'Georgie, get back from the window,' Josh whispered urgently. He pulled her back and sat her down, where they watched on as four men—all dressed in suits—exited the vehicles and ascended the stairs to Josh's apartment. Two kept watch at the top of the stairs, while the other two went around the side of the building to his front door.

  'Oh my God . . .' Georgie mumbled. Josh looked at her. Her face had gone pale and her eyes were wide and scared.

  'What's going on?' the guy at the checkout said.

  'Don't worry about it,' Josh told him, not turning around.