by Hunter Shea
Marvin took to watching in the other direction.
“No, Chris, don’t go. That’s suicide,” I said, getting on my hands and knees, flashlight forward, slowly making my way into the burrow.
The burrow wasn’t long. A little more than the length of my body. I felt the entire city on my back as I wriggled through. How the hell did all those skyscrapers not collapse into the sinkhole we’d excavated?
My head was suddenly free. I spit moldy dirt from my mouth. It was pitch- black, but it sounded like there was a heck of a party going on. Taking a deep breath, I shifted so I could get my flashlight ahead of me.
I would have backed out immediately if I could think coherently.
The cavern was most certainly not man-made. It looked to have been carved with thousands of little teeth. Best estimate would have it at thirty feet high and fifty feet in diameter. The floor of the cavern was a good twenty feet below me. If I had gone any further, I could have fallen and broken my neck.
That would have been a mercy.
Everywhere I looked, there were rats piled upon rats. What was worse is that they were in a frenzy of fucking or fighting. Some looked to be doing both. The best way to describe the rat population was that they had slipped into some kind of psychosis.
They had lost their Degenesis-enhanced minds, degenerating into creatures of pure animus and lust.
I had to grind my molars to keep from screaming when I spotted polished bones scattered throughout the cavern. They were too big to be any animal. Now I knew where the rest of the CHUDs were.
There was no need to see anymore. In a rare stroke of luck, it appeared they’d been too busy buggering one another to notice the terrified human stuck in their burrow like Winnie the Pooh.
Telling myself over and over not to panic, I worked my way backwards. Benny took hold of my shirt and helped me up.
“How bad?” she said, her worried eyes locked on mine.
“Makes the seven plagues look like a Christmas bonus,” I said.
“You did learn something in Bible school.”
“Just enough to pray we get the hell out of here, fast.”
Marvin said, “Any chance you can take some video so we can show the authorities?”
I eyeballed his so-2002 video camera. “Nope.”
We would have run, but Marvin’s pegs only operated in one speed—slightly faster than a tortoise. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a tidal wave of rats spilling down the tunnel.
By the time we made it to the railroad platforms, I was ready to kiss the filthy ground.
Chapter 13
Benny and I were silently drinking black coffee in our office the next morning when the phone rang. I grabbed it before my ex, who didn’t seem to be in a talking mood.
Marvin had said he’d report what we found to our mutual superiors. We’d been anxious to hear what the next steps were going to be.
“Your rats are dead.”
I put my leaking coffee cup on top of some papers I hoped I didn’t need later.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“The rats you brought me, they expired last night.”
Ratticus.
“Just one correction,” I said. “Those are your rats. I’m just the poor schmuck that had to go all Denis Potvin on them.”
He gave an irritated sigh. I gave one right back. Benny had gotten up and was standing over my shoulder.
“So, how did they die?” I asked.
“It was self-inflicted.”
“Was it pills? Did they make out with the business end of a thirty-eight special?”
“Has anyone ever told you your humor leaves a lot to be desired?”
“On occasion.”
I put the call on speakerphone so Benny could hear.
Taking a tone as if he were talking to the dumbest kid in class, Ratticus explained. “The three rats you brought back were highly aggressive. I put one into a cage with several other rats. It attempted to copulate with them, even though they were all the same sex. When that failed, it tore their throats out.”
I shivered, recalling the mass of sex- and violence-crazed rats down in the tomb.
“Alone in its cage, it then proceeded to smash its head until…well, until it expired.”
“What about the other two?” Benny asked.
“Same result. I’ll be conducting a full autopsy on them this morning.”
“How about your lab rats that have been eating Degenesis? How have they been acting?” I said, genuinely curious. Ratticus would need to do some fancy explaining as to why rats in the wild reacted so differently to his wonder poison.
“This was a courtesy call, considering you brought me the live samples,” he curtly replied.
“Covering your ass, huh?” Benny said.
She was answered by a dial tone.
“I don’t think he likes us,” I said.
“But he was being courteous.”
I sat back in my chair, felt it nearly give way and pushed myself forward. “Maybe rats that live on garbage have altered their biology enough so Degenesis drives them crazy.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Benny ran her fingers through her hair. I remembered how it felt, especially when we were just curled up on the couch watching Bruce Willis movies.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because the damage is already done. Now, we somehow have to get all that rotten toothpaste back into the tube.”
* * * *
In the early afternoon, we got a message from the manager of the Hibridge Cinema on Thirty-fifth to come check on the rat traps we’d set a few days before.
“Did he say anything that should make our spidey senses tingle?” Benny said. We’d just come in from taking separate lunches. I ate alone at a pizza parlor. I didn’t want to ask Benny who she spent her time with. I was already stressed enough.
“No, just to check them. Though he didn’t sound very happy.”
“They’re tingling.”
“Mine, too.”
We hauled ass to the cinema. It had ten theaters and looked exactly like every other multiplex in the city. I miss the big old theaters with balconies and cheap double features.
The manager spotted us as soon as we walked in the door, hustling us to the storage area where they kept the food. He was pushing forty and about forty pounds overweight. His face was red as an infected zit. He looked none too pleased to see us.
“I’m going to sue your asses,” he hissed.
The storage room looked as if a cyclone had hit it. The huge bags of popped popcorn were torn to shreds. Popcorn and rat turds were everywhere. Candy boxes were chewed open. Nachos littered the floor, along with the dry mix for the horrible- tasting cookies.
We ignored the manager, squatting low to look through the carnage.
“You see any?” I said.
“Nope.”
The traps were where we’d left them, unsprung and empty.
“Care to explain how this happened?” the manager barked.
I’d forgotten he was there.
“No,” I said.
He looked like a volcano about to erupt. His nostrils flared and he raised a finger.
The screaming in the lobby stopped his tirade mid-throat.
The three of us bolted out of the storage room, red and tubby bringing up the rear.
A dozen people were running out of the theater showing the new Fast and Furious movie. A man had a rat on his shoulder, taking bloody nips from his neck. We watched a woman with a pair of rats burrowing down her shirt and into her bra careen into the concession stand. The glass display case exploded. Everyone started screaming bloody murder.
I couldn’t move. I could only watch in astonishment as a parade of rats followed the terrified moviegoers out of the cinema.
The manager ran to the woman who had badly hurt herself in the concession stand, sputtering, “What the fuck?” over and over.
Benny clutched my hand. “We have to see where they’re going!”
We were buffeted by people as they flooded toward the exit. I kept my gaze down, more concerned about the rats darting in between their feet.
A child had fallen down and had several rats on his back. The crowd trampled him with total disregard.
I dropped to my knees and grabbed the rats by their napes, tossing them behind me and high into the air. I didn’t care if they landed on someone. I was pissed that grown adults could ignore the cries of a child. His back was bloodied. I scooped him into my arms, Benny by my side and keeping people from knocking us down.
We hit the sidewalk and watched people and rats scatter.
In a city where everyone ignored even the craziest shit going on around them, the Blob-like exodus from the theater became the center of attention.
A straggler bounced into the door, staggering outside. His body was a writhing mass of rats. He fell facedown, crushing a few rats in the process.
Still holding the crying kid, I tried to keep the rats off the man. So did Benny. The rats paid me no mind, at least until they’d had their fill of the man’s flesh.
Just like the times before, they stopped as one, scampering off the man and running down the sidewalk. Onlookers yelped, parting the way for them to go through.
“You see that?” Benny said.
I did.
They were headed in the direction of Grand Central.
Chapter 14
“You always seem to find yourself in the thick of things,” Dr. Finch said. We were in a conference room the following day. There were a lot of people sitting around us, some in fancy uniforms, some in expensive suits, a few in starched lab coats.
Benny and I, in our jeans and work shirts, were woefully underdressed.
“It’s what happens when you’re good at what you do,” I said.
Ratticus’s face pinched inward for a flash. He was a different man in his own element. He hadn’t been so cocky and high and mighty in that Bronx apartment.
“You found the nest in the…what did you call it?”
“The tomb,” I said. “Under the Metro-North lower tracks.”
The head of the Department of Transportation, a burly guy with greased-back hair and a perpetual scowl, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’ve been asking for the budget to seal that tunnel up for years.”
I’d seen him on TV every now and then, more so lately now that our rail infrastructure was going to the dogs. He looked ready to chew iron on a good day. And this wasn’t a good day.
“Well, it’s too late to gripe about that,” a man in uniform said. His jacket was resplendent with all kinds of medals and insignias. “This has become a goddamn crisis. Two people from that movie-theater attack are in intensive care today. The fucking city is in a panic. What are we going to do about it?”
That got the two men to jaw at one another for a spell.
Since Benny and I were low on the totem pole, we hadn’t been properly introduced to a soul. In fact, quite a few eyebrows were raised when we’d walked in the room. Even I was wondering why we were there. I didn’t think anyone would give a crap about our opinion.
Benny had been unusually quiet, just taking in the room. There was a lot of testosterone in the air, which meant she was calculating how low the collective IQ could go.
“Have you determined if Degenesis is the source of the changes in rat behavior?” a guy in a pinstripe suit from across the table asked. I assumed he was from the mayor’s office. He just looked mayoral.
Ratticus made a big deal of putting on his glasses, opening a file folder and checking his notes. “It’s still too early to come to any conclusions. The rats we’ve observed have seemed a tad more aggressive than usual.”
Benny snorted.
Ratticus paused, glaring at her.
“And hornier,” I added, deflecting his anger from her.
He looked back down at his notes and cleared his throat.
“We’re running extensive cultures on the samples drawn from the rat procured by Mr. Jackson two days ago.”
“Care to posit a theory?” pinstripe said, leaning his elbows on the table.
“Not at this stage, no.”
“Well, when you’re not covering your ass, have you been able to develop anything that could reverse their aggression and/or fertility rate?” This came from an elderly gentleman in a Brooks Brothers suit to my left. He smelled of expensive aftershave and money. I couldn’t tell whom he represented, but he did get Ratticus to blanch.
“Again, there just hasn’t been enough time. It took ten years to develop Degenesis.”
He was interrupted by the decorated top cop. “Ten years to create such a fuckup, we need to have the military on hand.” He nodded toward the clean-shaven gent in fatigues who stood by the door. “Maybe if you rush it this time, you might get it right. You know what they say about doing things the way they’ve always been done.”
Ratticus straightened in his chair. “I understand how you’re all feeling at this moment, but you can’t rush science or biology.”
The man’s career and reputation were toast. I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost. But not quite.
“None of the behavior we’re seeing was ever exhibited in our lab rats. And trust me, gentlemen, we tested Degenesis extensively.”
“Why don’t we have anyone from the manufacturer here?” pinstripe asked. “Could they have screwed something up?”
Ratticus lightened by several degrees. It was just the life raft he’d been hoping for.
“Yes, that is a possibility.”
One of the science geeks, a younger guy with a man bun and scraggly goatee, shuffled through a stack of papers. He raised a finger to get their attention. “I have the report from the manufacturer and from what I can tell, there were no variations in the finished product.”
“Naturally, that’s what they would say,” Ratticus snorted.
“From my vantage point, no one has the balls to take accountability,” the police chief said.
“This isn’t about blame,” Ratticus said, buoyed by the introduction of a new scapegoat.
“It absolutely is,” the well-dressed man beside me piped in. “All of the lawsuits that are sure to come will need someone to sue.”
The conference room broke into a dozen loud, separate conversations.
Benny looked to me and rolled her eyes. I shook my head. This was going nowhere fast. I wished Marvin was with us only for the fact that his BO in an enclosed room would spur them on to come to a quick and decisive plan of action.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Benny whispered.
“Makes me glad I never took an office job.”
She took a long sip of her water and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Benny’s incisor was visible, pinching her lower lip.
I knew what that meant.
“Can I say something?” she said.
No one even paused to look at her.
I leaned back in my chair, ready to enjoy the show.
“Excuse me,” Benny said loud enough to cut through the cacophony. All mouths shut and eyes swiveled to my ex.
“You’re all missing the point,” she said, taking a breath to let it sink in.
“And what point is that?” Ratticus said.
“Regardless of who fucked up, you have a golden opportunity to correct your mistake. The only problem is, with every second you waste here pointing fingers, you’re losing precious time. The fact that they’ve gathered in the tomb is a good thing.”
I tried not to smile when I saw Ratticus’s cheeks bloom.
“How so?” pinstripe said.<
br />
“For whatever reason, these rats prefer to congregate together. They’ve corralled themselves into one place with, as far as we can tell, only one exit. You see, rats like to stay close to food sources. Those homeless people were a buffet. But now they’re all gone. The rats will be leaving soon. Their numbers may increase too much to be conveniently gathered in one place again.”
“What kind of timeline are we talking about for them to vacate the tomb?” the military guy said, speaking for the first time.
Benny shrugged. “An hour. Six hours. A day, maybe. It’s impossible to know for sure. But I do know that they won’t stay down there without food for much longer. Those rats in the theater may have been scouting. And since it wasn’t right next to Grand Central, there were probably other parties in other locations. If you don’t strike now, you also risk giving them time for another generation to be born, which by my calculations could be a few days from now.”
Someone muttered, “Fucking hell.”
I wanted to squeeze Benny’s leg under the table and show her how proud I was of her, but I worried how she would take it. The way she was going, holding each of their steady gazes, she didn’t need my reassurance.
“And how do you propose we approach the den?” the police chief asked.
“Definitely not with traps,” Benny said.
An idea hit me so hard, I bolted from my seat. I wasn’t keen on being the center of attention, especially among this crowd, but we didn’t have time for my hang-ups.
“Them,” I said.
Ratticus looked at me like I was one of his lab rats. “Them? What the hell are you talking about?”
“The movie Them! You remember it? Black-and-white monster movie with James Whitmore and James Arness.”
The older men nodded. “The one with the giant ants,” the man beside me said.
“Exactly. The ants retreated to the tunnels under Los Angeles. Whitmore and Arness went in with troops and flamethrowers to kill them before the queen had a chance to fly off and make more baby monsters.”
Now everyone was looking at me the way Ratticus had.
“Look,” I said, rising from my chair. “There’s nothing in the arsenal of an exterminator that can handle this many rats. We spend days, weeks trying to outsmart them and lure six or so into traps. We don’t have the convenience of time. You’re going to have to treat them as a combatant and take them by force.”
