by Chris Colfer
“Walk north on this street for six blocks and make a left—you can’t miss it,” he said. “Although I doubt they’re letting anyone get close after what happened last night.”
“Are you talking about the gas leak?” Bree asked.
“A gas leak? Is that what they said happened?” The homeless man snorted and shook his head disapprovingly. “Typical. They’re always trying to control people by keeping them in the dark. Well, they can’t control me! I was at the library last night and I saw what really happened with my own eyes.”
Conner and his friends formed a half circle around the homeless man, which seemed to make him a little nervous.
“Mind telling us what you saw?” Conner asked. “We’d love to know what’s really going on.”
“I’d love to tell you, but a story will cost you ten bucks,” the man said.
“Ten bucks?” Conner said. “But you only charged me a dollar for directions.”
“Listen, kid, I didn’t wind up on the streets from being a bad businessman. If I got something you want, it’s gonna cost you.”
Conner rolled his eyes and gave the homeless man ten dollars. Once the man had inspected the money, he tucked it away and began his story.
“It was around midnight and I was sleeping down by the library,” he said. “They’ve got this bench near a fountain—it’s my favorite place to take a snooze in the city. Anyhoo, I was dreaming about playing in the World Series when I was rudely awoken by the sound of police sirens. I was worried the library security guard had called the fuzz on me, so I hid behind some bushes. The next thing I know, some broad comes floating out of the library like a ghost! She raised her hands into the sky and BAM! Lightning struck both the lion statues! Naturally, once I saw that, I bolted like a rat in a cathouse. To be honest, it’s not even the first time I’ve seen magic in this city—but hey, who’s gonna believe a bum like me?”
Conner’s heart was beating so hard, he could feel it in multiple parts of his body. He leaned down and looked the homeless man directly in the eye.
“The girl who floated out of the library—what did she look like?” he asked.
“She was really pale,” the man said. “She had bright blue eyes and long reddish-blondish hair, and wore a white dress. Come to think of it, she looked a lot like you, kid.”
“Alex,” Conner gasped. “We were right—she’s here! She’s at the library!”
Without any warning, he dashed up Fifth Avenue as fast as he could, and his friends followed. They weaved through the crowds on the sidewalk until they came to a dead stop at a barricade on Thirty-Eighth Street.
The blockade was an overwhelming sight. A dozen police cars were parked in a row across the street to prevent pedestrians and traffic from going any farther. Beyond the cars, dozens and dozens of police officers were scattered throughout the vacated area. Conner tried sneaking past the barricade, but an officer blocked him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the officer said. “Where’s the fire?”
“Please, you have to let me through,” Conner said. “It’s an emergency.”
“Sorry, no one is allowed past this point,” the officer said. “They’re clearing up a nasty gas leak up by the library. It isn’t safe.”
“Yes, I know that’s what they’re telling people, but my sister is the one at the library! I need to get to her before someone harms her!”
“Young man, the library has been evacuated,” the officer said. “I promise, wherever your sister was, she’s been moved to a safe location.”
“No, you don’t understand!” Conner yelled. “She’s the one causing all this! You need to let me through so I can help her!”
As if Conner were on autopilot, he pushed the officer out of his way, squeezed between the rows of police vehicles, and made a run for the library before he even realized what he was doing. Unfortunately, he was only half a block past the barricade when he was tackled to the pavement by another police officer. Conner fought the officer off with all his might, determined to reach the library. It took two more officers to keep him pinned to the ground. They handcuffed him and threw him into the backseat of the nearest vehicle.
“You’ve got to let me go!” Conner pleaded. “The whole world may be in danger if you don’t let me find my sister!”
“You’re out of your mind, kid!” an officer said, and slammed the car door. “Stay in there and chill out!”
It all happened so fast, none of Conner’s friends knew what to do. They were vastly outnumbered by the police officers standing nearby. If they tried to intervene now, they’d all get arrested. Conner looked through the window at his friends standing helplessly on the sidewalk and mouthed “Sorry.” Now that he’d been detained in the backseat of a police car, the odds of finding Alex had plummeted. One impulsive move to save his sister might have cost them everything.
Suddenly, the ground began to vibrate. Everyone in the area worried it was an earthquake until the vibration was accompanied by the sound of roaring engines. Conner, his friends, and all the police officers looked down Thirty-Eighth Street and discovered a long row of beige Hummers speeding toward them. The police allowed the Hummers through the barricade, and they parked side by side in an impressive straight line. Swarms of United States Marines emerged from the vehicles in camouflage uniforms with their weapons ready.
An older man with gray hair and broad shoulders stepped out of the first Hummer and all the Marines lined up behind him. Unlike the soldiers, the older man wore a green dress uniform decorated with medals. He also wore dark sunglasses and was smoking a cigar. He scanned the area like he had just stepped into a war zone and then directed his stern gaze at the police officers.
“Which one of you is Commissioner Healy?” he asked.
An older African-American man in a navy blue suit stepped out from the group of police officers.
“General Wilson, I presume,” the commissioner said. “Thank you for coming, sir.”
The commissioner and the general shook hands just a few feet from the police vehicle that Conner sat inside. Thanks to a slightly rolled-down window, he could hear every word the men were saying. He ducked down in the backseat so they wouldn’t see him eavesdropping.
“Commissioner, will you please tell me what the heck is going on in your city?” the general said. “What could possibly warrant the president’s decision to put boots on the ground?”
“I wish we had more answers for you, General, but we’re still trying to figure it out,” Commissioner Healy said. “Long story short, the library is under attack. Two of my officers responded to a distress call early this morning and discovered a young girl with strange abilities. She caused lightning to appear and somehow made the lion statues on the library steps come to life. The lions are currently guarding the library and attack anyone who tries to enter it. Once we were able to obtain photographic proof, we contacted the White House.”
Interestingly, the general didn’t question the commissioner’s report, as Conner had expected.
“And where is the girl now?” the general asked.
“As far as we know, she’s still inside the library,” the commissioner said. “What she’s doing is anyone’s guess.”
General Wilson took a long drag on his cigar and slowly exhaled as he absorbed this information. After a moment, he turned on his heel and addressed the Marines behind him.
“All right, soldiers—it’s time to get to work,” the general ordered. “I want the barricade around the library extended eight blocks in each direction. Contact the Pentagon and have them establish a no-fly zone above the city of Manhattan—I don’t want anything leaking to the press. I want snipers stationed on every roof surrounding the library. Once we take our position at the base of the steps, we’ll open fire on the statues and try to take them out; then we’ll find the girl inside.”
The commissioner was appalled by what he heard. “General, you can’t shoot the lion statues! They’re national landmarks!”
Gener
al Wilson removed his sunglasses and looked the commissioner in the eye.
“Thank you for your input, Commissioner, but your little backyard circus is now a matter of national security,” he said. “I’ll decide what measures I should or should not take to ensure that your city stays in one piece. If you have a problem with that, I’ll have you placed on the other side of that barricade faster than you can say ‘I Love New York.’”
The commissioner didn’t argue any further. The general nodded to his Marines and they spread out like cockroaches to fulfill his orders. The general returned to his Hummer and was driven up Fifth Avenue to get a closer look at the library. As the commissioner and his police officers watched the Hummers drive off, Jack snuck past the blockade and quietly opened the back door of the police car Conner was sitting in.
“Come on!” Jack whispered. “Quick—while they’re all looking away!”
Once Conner had regrouped with his friends, they raced down Fifth Avenue and ducked into the first alley they could find. With one slice of his axe, Jack freed Conner from the handcuffs binding him. Conner walked around the alley in a huff and angrily kicked the side of a dumpster.
“This is getting more difficult by the second!” he moaned.
“At least we know where your sister is,” Goldilocks reminded him. “That alone puts us in a better place than we were.”
“We still have to get to her, though,” Conner said. “These army guys won’t care if Alex is being controlled by a witch or not—they’ll kill her the moment they think she’s a threat. We’ve got to get to her before they do, and I don’t have the slightest idea of how to do that. And I’m sorry, Jack, but no amount of imagination or positive thinking is going to help us get past the NYPD, the United States Marines, and two possessed lion statues!”
Bree, Jack, Goldilocks, and Red didn’t even try to persuade him otherwise. They paced around in silence as they tried to brainstorm a possible plan. Their train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat—someone who wasn’t in their group. They looked up and saw that the homeless man from earlier was standing a few feet away.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “I saw your little scuffle with the fuzz back there. I know they didn’t want to listen to you, but I’d like to help if you’ll let me.”
“Sorry, dude, I’m out of cash,” Conner said.
“This time I’m offering my services free of charge,” the homeless man said. “I know I may not look like much, but I know how to get to your sister.”
“No offense, but I sincerely doubt that,” Conner said. “We need to get inside the public library, and every entrance is being guarded by the US Marines and two man-eating statues!”
A sly smile spread across the homeless man’s face. “You’re wrong,” he said. “They aren’t guarding every entrance.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE CALVIN COOLIDGE EXPRESS
Per General Wilson’s orders, the US Marines began evacuating every building within a ten-block radius of the New York Public Library. Watching the soldiers move from building to building and forcing people out of their homes and businesses made Conner feel like he was watching a scene from an apocalyptic movie. Judging from the looks on the New Yorkers’ faces, everyone knew the situation wasn’t a gas leak—something far worse was happening in Midtown Manhattan.
The homeless man led Conner and his friends covertly from alley to alley, careful not to attract the attention of the Marines. With every step Conner wondered if they were doing the right thing by following him, or if they were putting their trust in a complete lunatic.
“Where are you taking us?” Conner asked.
“Shhhh!” the homeless man said, and placed a finger over his mouth. “If they catch us sneaking around, we’ll never get to your sister.”
“Sorry—where are you taking us?” Conner whispered.
“We’re going to a subway entrance on the corner of Fortieth and Broadway.”
“We’re taking the subway?” Conner asked. “But a train won’t get us inside the library!”
“We don’t need a train where we’re going,” the homeless man said.
The homeless man dashed across the street to hide behind a pile of trash, and the others followed him. They moved from building to building very slowly and only crossed streets when they were certain no Marines were watching. By the time they reached the intersection of Fortieth and Broadway, Midtown Manhattan was practically a ghost town and it was getting dark out. After a quick huddle behind a large delivery truck, the homeless man raced across the intersection to the southwest corner and hurried down the steep steps into the subway station. A moment later, he popped his head up and whistled to the others.
“The station’s empty!” he called to them. “Hurry—while the coast is clear!”
Conner and his friends joined him underground. Their footsteps echoed off the station’s title walls. The homeless man jumped over the turnstile to avoid paying, and the others copied him. Red was the least agile, and her gown got caught in the revolving turnstile. Goldilocks had to slice off a layer of her dress to set her free.
“Now everyone follow me to the end of the platform,” the homeless man said.
“Wait!” Conner said. “We aren’t going any farther until you tell us exactly where we’re headed.”
“Kid, I promise it’ll make sense once we’re there, but until then, you’ll just have to trust me.”
The homeless man reached the end of the long platform and jumped down onto the train tracks.
“He can’t be serious,” Bree said. “We’re not actually going to follow him down there, are we?”
“What choice do we have?” Conner asked.
“Don’t stop now—we’re almost there!” the homeless man said.
Conner, Bree, and Jack jumped off the platform and then offered their hands to help Goldilocks and Hero, but Red took their hands first. The homeless man removed a flashlight from inside his coat and sprinted down the train tunnel.
“You might want to hurry—trains usually run through here every ten minutes,” he warned.
Fearing a speeding train would hit them at any moment, Conner and his friends ran after the homeless man as fast as they could. The farther they went, the darker the tunnel became. Soon the shaky light from the homeless man’s flashlight was all that was keeping them from tripping over the train tracks. Suddenly, the homeless man made a quick left turn and disappeared from sight. When the others caught up with him, they entered a different tunnel they would have never spotted on their own. Unlike the previous one, the new tunnel had no visible cables or train tracks on the ground.
“Welcome to the Calvin Coolidge Express!” the homeless man announced. “Or at least what’s finished of it.”
“The what?” Conner asked.
The homeless man chuckled. “Don’t worry, very few people know it exists,” he said. “In 1928, construction began on a new transit system to take New Yorkers from Staten Island all the way to Central Park. The following year the Great Depression hit and construction came to a halt. Later, the need for steel was so high during World War Two that plans were scrapped altogether. By the time the war ended, the Calvin Coolidge Express was completely forgotten.”
“Whatever it is, it smells awful,” Red said. She took the can of Febreze out of her purse and sprayed the air around them.
“Unfortunately, the tunnels were built right beside the sewers, but you get used to the smell after a while.”
“Why would you bring us to an abandoned subway tunnel?” Conner asked.
“Because one of the many stops planned for the Calvin Coolidge Express was Bryant Park,” the man explained. “The city didn’t want to obstruct the park, so they decided to place the stop in the basement of the New York Public Library.”
Conner’s face lit up so much, he practically glowed in the dark tunnel. He heard the man loud and clear, but it sounded too good to be true.
“So you’re
saying we can get to the library from this tunnel?” he asked.
“Like I said before, they aren’t guarding every entrance,” the homeless man reiterated. “See why I didn’t tell you where we were going? You wouldn’t have believed a bum like me unless you saw it with your own eyes.”
Conner was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but the homeless man was right. If he had been just a tiny bit more critical of their guide, they would have been rounded up and sent away like all the other New Yorkers in Midtown Manhattan.
“I just realized we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said. “I’m Conner Bailey, and these are my friends Bree, Red, Jack, Goldie, and their son, Hero. What’s your name?”
“The name’s Rusty—Rusty Bagasarian,” the homeless man said with a quick bow.
“Thank you so much for leading us here, Rusty,” Conner said. “How did you even know this tunnel existed?”
“You learn a lot about a city when you live on its streets,” Rusty said.
“Have you always been poor?” Red asked.
“Red, don’t be rude!” Goldilocks reprimanded her.
“It’s all right—I get that all the time,” Rusty said. “Homelessness is a recent chapter for me. I used to live in Brooklyn and worked as a janitor at the Belvedere Castle in Central Park. A couple of months ago I was fired and lost everything.”
“Why were you fired?” Jack asked.
“Well, to put it bluntly, I saw something magical and it changed my life forever.”
“Was it Hamilton?” Red asked. “I keep seeing signs about him posted all over the city. If he’s anything like Shakeyfruit’s Hamhead I hope we get a chance to meet him.”
The others rolled their eyes and ignored her.
“Earlier, when you told us about the library, you mentioned it wasn’t the first time you’d seen magic in the city,” Bree said. “I didn’t think you were being serious, but now I’m really interested to hear about it.”
Rusty let out a deep sigh before telling them. Clearly, it was a difficult subject for him to talk about.
