by J. Thorn
A prepubescent girl smirked, and two younger boys pushed her from behind.
“C’mon, Monica. Let’s go with the white man.”
“You know you don’t go with strangers, boys. Especially you, Darius. You’re supposed to be more ‘sponsible.”
Neil saw another fistfight break out on the corner and he felt compelled to get these children inside and away from the chaos. He ushered them in the opposite direction of the fight, using his arms to keep them in a tight group.
He hadn’t felt guilt since his days as a Catholic altar boy, and Neil hated that the feeling had chosen to return now. He had been doing his job. He wasn’t responsible for these people. But they were kids, and he knew they’d die when the pumps stopped and he wasn’t sure he could handle that on his conscience.
“Let’s go inside.”
The boys ran inside, and Monica looked at Neil.
“We ain’t supposed to trust strangers.”
Neil shook his head. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Now let’s get inside before things out here get dangerous.”
Monica flicked her hair at Neil as she walked past. “This neighborhood’s always been dangerous.”
26
Dax woke up, his leg aching and his head throbbing. He tried to raise his hands to his face to rub his eyes but found them to be bound together. His legs had also been bound, zip-tied at the ankles.
His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark room lit by a handful of candles. He could see silhouettes of others nearby but had trouble making out their faces.
“Yo. The asshole’s awake.”
Dax looked to his left, toward the voice. Something about it sounded familiar. A face appeared, illuminated by a candle in the man’s hand—the same face he had last seen when locked in a basement.
“Yes, he is,” Chuck said.
Dax leaned his head back against the wall but didn’t speak.
“We’re gonna kill you, motherfucker.”
“Cut him some slack, Leo,” Chuck said. “He’s in the same shit we’re in.”
“Where are we?” Dax asked. “What are you guys doing here?”
“You think if we knew where we were, we’d tell your punk ass?” Leo asked.
“We don’t know,” Chuck said. “Our place got raided in the middle of the night. We didn’t even see them coming. Most of my men died along with the people we were holding in our basement. Got four of my men in this room, but that’s it.”
“Did the men that caught you have...”
Dax hesitated as he began to cough. He didn’t know how long he’d been lying on the floor, but his tailbone throbbed and his injured thigh screamed at him.
“Speak up,” Leo said.
“Never mind.” He’d hardly slept in days, and it had been so long since he’d eaten anything substantial that his stomach felt like it was starting to eat itself.
“Did you see who took you?” Chuck asked Dax.
“No. I found a restaurant and went to sleep on the floor. And now I’m waking up here. Bound. With you. Did you see who did this to your crew?”
Chuck shook his head. “Fuckers cracked me over the head before I could get a good look at ‘em. Then, I woke up here.”
Dax nodded and looked around the room. “Do you guys—”
“Don’t think just because we trapped down here with you that we’re friends now or some shit,” Chuck said. “You still got a debt to pay. You escaped. Killed my men. I ain’t forgetting that shit.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.”
“You wait,” Leo said. “You’re a dead motherfucker. Gonna shank your ass like I shoulda done in prison.”
Dax rolled his eyes, and Chuck saw it.
“What? You think you’re better than us? You’re a bad dude, Dax. Almost as bad as me. You’re a killer—like us. Don’t think ‘cause you got some pretty crippled hoe that you’re all good and shit.”
“People can change.”
Chuck laughed again. “You keep tellin’ yourself that. Whatever makes you feel all nice and warm on the inside.”
Dax leaned back into the light to where the men could see his face. “Maybe we should cut the shit and figure out how we’re gonna get out of here. Then we’ll see if you fools can live up to all this talk.”
The men looked at Chuck, and he waved a hand at Dax, cursing under his breath. He nodded hesitantly, Chuck’s need to survive seeming to outweigh his pride. “Yeah. Yeah, you right.”
Muffled screams came from another room.
Dax looked around at the room, trying to figure out where they were being held, but it looked like any room, anywhere. Nothing stood out or indicated a specific location within the city. “Is that the first time that’s happened?”
“Heard it one other time since we been here,” Chuck said.
“What they doin’ to people, man?” Leo asked.
Dax thought back to the screams he’d heard at the restaurant. He remembered going to the Italian eatery next door and the man who’d been taken captive, five men surrounding him with those weird eyes. Dax decided to keep that information to himself for now.
“Is that a radiator over there?”
“Yeah,” said Chuck. “What about it?”
Dax followed the piping along the floor and then saw the elbow where it cut through the floor and presumably down to the boiler. The pipe had been sawed off at the elbow by someone who had planned on stealing the copper but never quite finished the job. He slid his backside toward it. Reaching it, Dax felt backward and used his fingers to find the ragged, sharp edge of the cut pipe. He ran his arms up and down over it, working to cut the zip tie with the cut edge.
“What are you doing’ over there, man?” Leo asked.
Someone screamed again. Heavy footsteps came down the hall. Dax stopped rubbing the plastic ties against the pipe.
The door opened.
“Shit,” Chuck said.
A shadow entered the room. Dax couldn’t see the man’s face in the dark, but he saw the same unmistakable glow. The eyes.
“What the hell is that thing?” Leo asked.
“Shut up,” Chuck said.
The man looked down and into each person’s face. Chuck’s gang members groaned and shuddered as the shadow passed them before stopping in front of Dax. He saw the man’s pale face, his skin appearing gray in the dim light. Chuck looked at Leo and then at Dax.
The gray man shrieked, and the sound of it felt like an insect crawling into Dax’s ears. The fierceness and intensity of the voice sounded exactly like what Dax had heard in the Italian eatery.
The gang member next to Leo kicked at the floor, trying to propel himself backward and away from the man standing before him.
“No! Please, leave me alone!”
The shadow man reached down and picked up the gang member, dragging him across the floor.
“Bring him back here!” Chuck said.
But the man ignored him, dragging the guy through the door and then slamming it shut, the scream turning into nothing but a muffled cry.
27
Almost an hour had passed since Chuck’s man had been dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the room. Dax continued working on the zip ties, but the plastic was stronger than he’d expected. He would glance at the door and then move the zip tie faster, up and down on the sharp edge of the pipe.
“How you gonna get us out of here?” Chuck asked Dax.
Dax ignored the question and continued working on the zip ties. He had to go by feel, unable to see how far into the plastic the pipe had cut. Dax pushed harder until he could feel the ties cutting into the soft flesh at his wrists.
He felt a momentary bite from the binds and then a release as the zip tie fell away and his wrists came free. Dax opened his eyes and raised his hands in front of his face. A red line of blood stretched across each wrist, but the cuts didn’t look deep. He then cut the ties from his ankles.
“You got ‘em off?” Chuck asked.
Dax stood up, massag
ing his wrists.
“Get us the fuck outta here,” Leo said.
Dax hesitated, looking into their faces. Chuck had promised to kill him, and Dax had no doubt that he would. And although Dax had learned how to fight from his time in prison, five against one meant the odds were not in his favor. But he couldn’t imagine getting out of the building on his own. He would need help.
He walked around the perimeter of the room but found nothing he could use to cut their restraints. The top of the pipe he’d used went under the floor and was most likely soldered to another run of copper below. Dax walked over to the old radiator and leaned over. He spotted a copper fitting that had also been cut with a hacksaw and tossed to the side. It must have gotten kicked behind the radiator and out of sight. He reached down and grabbed the fitting, feeling the sharp burrs on the end.
“Come on, man.” Leo softened his voice. “Help a brutha out.”
Dax went to Chuck first. He pulled the gang leader to his feet, spun him around and began sawing at the zip ties with the cut pipe.
“Right on,” Chuck said. “I knew you wasn’t stupid.”
Dax sawed at the zip tie for another thirty seconds before it split and Chuck’s hands were free. He then walked around, cutting the zip ties from every man’s wrists and ankles.
Chuck stood at the door, his ear pressed against it. He pulled away. “I don’t hear anything. I think it’s clear.”
“All right,” Dax said. “Let’s stick together. It’s our best shot at getting out of here.”
Chuck stepped aside, smiled and gestured toward the door. “After you.”
Dax looked at the other gang members who had walked around and stood behind Chuck. They gave him cold, hard stares and Dax wasn’t sure what they would do once he turned his back.
“Whatever. Let’s go.” Dax grabbed the handle, but it was locked.
“Allow me.”
Chuck pushed Dax aside. He used his boot to kick the old brass doorknob, which broke into several pieces. The door slid open a few inches.
“Sly. I’m sure nobody heard that.”
“We free, ain’t we?”
Dax shook his head.
Chuck moved through the door. “Come on.”
Dax led Chuck and the gang down a narrow hallway, using his hands to feel the walls and other doors. The emergency lights had gone dark, so Dax looked for the white frames of the exit signs to get them out of the building.
“Where you taking us?” Leo asked.
Dax turned around and glared at him. “How should I know? I’m trying to get us out of here.”
“Motherfucker, I’m gonna—”
“Shut the fuck up, Leo. Are you that much of an idiot? Those damn things are gonna hear your dumb ass.”
Leo slammed a fist into a palm and grinned at Dax. He spread his arms wide and gave Dax a slow, deep bow.
Dax ignored Leo and kept walking. The hallway angled ninety degrees to the right. Dax peeked around it and yanked his head back.
“What you see?” Chuck asked.
Dax held up two fingers and pointed toward the corner. He looked across the hallway and saw their escape.
“We’ve gotta make a run for that open door.”
“But you seen two of those fuckers with the cat eyes. I ain’t about to get my guys caught again.”
“Then stay here, Chuck. I’m not.”
Dax darted across the hall, glancing down the hallway toward where he’d last seen the glowing eyes. He didn’t see anything and didn’t hear movement either. He motioned at Chuck and his gang to follow him across the hallway.
Chuck sprinted across the hall next and joined Dax in the room. Each of his men followed until they were all inside the space. They closed the door, bringing almost total darkness.
“Well, what now?” Leo asked.
“Do any of you smoke?”
“You want a cigarette? Right now?”
“Lighter?” Dax looked from Chuck to Leo. “Matches? We need to see where we are.”
One of Chuck’s men reached into his pocket and sparked a Zippo. Dax grabbed the lighter from the man’s hand and waved it around the room. He saw a desk with a computer and two chairs. A filing cabinet stood in one corner and a potted plant in the other.
“I saw what these things can do.”
Chuck laughed. “Things? These are people, yo, not things.”
“I ain’t so sure of that anymore. I saw a gang of them do something to this dude. Something... weird.”
“You out your ever-loving mind, holmes. This ain’t some zombie movie.”
“No. It was nothing like that. But it wasn’t normal either.”
“What do we do then?” Chuck asked.
Dax walked over to the filing cabinet, opened it and pulled out a folder stuffed with papers. “We burn this fucking place to the ground.”
“Fuck that,” Leo said. “We don’t know how to get out of here. We’ll burn up with it, stupid.”
“Yeah, you crazy, man?” Chuck said.
“We gotta take out these things while we can.”
Chuck sighed, and the rest of his crew waited for him to respond. Leo smacked Chuck on the arm.
“Yo, man, you ain’t seriously thinkin’ about listenin’ to him, are you? This nigga crazy. Dude be goin’ all X-Files on us and shit.”
Chuck looked at Leo and then at the rest of his guys. “Yeah, he’s crazy. But he’s right. These motherfuckers be wrecking our biz. They’ll find us again. I just hope we can get out of here before the whole place goes up in flames.”
Dax thought about what Leo had said and hesitated. Maybe lighting a fire here wasn’t a good idea. They had no way of controlling it and still didn’t know how to get out.
Leo opened the filing cabinet and pulled out folder after folder, dumping them onto the ground. The other men spread the papers out, covering most of the office floor. Chuck fist-bumped Leo and then turned to face Dax.
“Go on. Do it.”
Dax thrust his head out of the door and scanned the hallway. He saw another open door on the other side of the hall, in the opposite direction from which they had come.
“After we light this, we’ll run over and wait in that room. Hopefully, the fire here will draw most of those bastards, and we can make a run for it.” He looked to the thug with the lighter. “You ready?”
Chuck held up a folder filled with papers, and his man lit it. He waited for the flames to take hold and then dropped the folder onto the ground. The fire spread faster than Dax had thought it would. It rose, lighting the shuffled papers on the desk and then the furniture.
“Let’s go.” Dax took one more look down the hall before shooting down and into the other open room. Chuck and his men followed.
They stood against the wall and out of sight. The orange glow grew, and it felt as though someone had turned the heat on in the building. Smoke poured from the burning room, the odor of burnt paper mixing with the bitter tang of melting plastic. An explosion rocked the building and glass shot across the hallway.
Dax heard a shriek come from where he had last seen the eyes. Footsteps followed as the gang—or creatures, or whatever they were—raced by and toward the burning room.
“Now.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Chuck exited the room first.
The other thugs rushed out, following their boss. Leo stopped in the doorway and turned around to face Dax, who was the last man left.
“C’mon. We’ve got to get the—”
Leo smiled before lifting his leg and slamming the heel of his boot into the stab wound on Dax’s leg. Dax screamed as he doubled over and clutched his leg. Leo lunged forward to knock Dax to the ground. He kicked at Dax’s leg three more times. Dax screamed and tried blocking the kicks with his hands.
“You stupid motherfucker,” Leo said, laughing. “You thought I was going to run out of here with you? We told you we was gonna kill you.”
Leo turned and ran out of the room. Dax rolled over, d
oing his best to keep the pain from knocking him out. The smoke billowed into the room, heavy and black as it consumed the building. He felt the heat increasing, and his lungs burned as though the fire was already inside of him.
28
Neil stood at the window, looking out into the night. The city appeared calm, almost peaceful. With the grid down and the backup pump generators running out of diesel, there was no light pollution to compete with the moon. The reflected light sparkled off the surface of the toxic water that had slowly been strangling the city.
Isaac and Chloe had returned, but things out there seemed to be getting worse.
Neil knew the water would continue to rise. The rate and severity of the flood were completely unpredictable. He had seen diesel trucks in the first few days, delivering fuel to the backup generators at strategic pump stations. But like the rest of the governmental services, those had disappeared also.
Once the last of the pump stations went down, the water would flow in—from Lake Pontchartrain and from the Gulf. What would happen then? Neil shivered as his mind pictured the scene in New Orleans, a week or two from now.
They had survived by finding the apartment building, but unless they could escape the punchbowl that was central New Orleans, they would succumb to the floods. The water would ravage the French Quarter like it would the Lower Ninth Ward. No amount of money, history or privilege would protect the city’s residents now.
And even if they could live in the flooded city, they only had so much food and water—not nearly enough to keep six mouths fed and hydrated. Besides that, what would happen if another street gang found the place? Worse yet, what if the same gang found them? Neil tried to apply logic and math to the situation, but each train of thought ended at the same conclusion. Their end would come sooner rather than later. The only variable was how.
A knock on the door startled him. Neil turned to see crutches and big curly hair.
“I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?”
Neil smiled, rubbing his bald head. “No. It’s all right. I was looking outside and doing some thinking.”
