by Hunter Shea
“We could bomb this tomb if need be,” the soldier said.
“And possibly destroy the foundation of Grand Central Station? Not a chance,” the police chief said.
“We can use gas, seal up the exit, and have various artillery on standby for any that manage to get out.”
“No matter how you do it, you have to make a decision now,” Benny said.
That got everyone going in the right direction. The attention was off Ratticus, which he should have thanked us for, and now on the military.
We were dismissed so the big boys could finalize their plan.
“Stay close to your phone,” the police chief said to me before we walked out of the conference room.
It seemed like I exhaled for the first time in a half hour once the door closed behind me.
“You were pretty damn amazing,” I said to Benny.
“You weren’t so bad yourself.”
She looked like she wanted to smile, proud with herself, but the gravity of the situation called for frowns.
“Did you really just convince everyone to follow a monster movie?” she said.
“I was a latchkey kid. Everything I know, I learned from television, and it never let me down.”
“Come on, you’re buying me breakfast.”
Chapter15
They weren’t kidding when they said to stay by our phones. We had no sooner polished off our bagels and cream cheese when both phones started chirping.
“They’re going to close Grand Central in an hour,” Ratticus said. I couldn’t tell who Benny was talking to.
“That’s not going to be easy,” I said. The doctor sounded nervous.
“Not the way they’re planning it. The military is going to claim there’s a terrorist threat.”
“A false-flag operation?”
“In a sense, yes. The mayor is insisting I be there.”
“Lucky you,” I said, not liking where this was going.
“She also said that since you and Benny have been in on this from the start that you should be there as well.”
“I’m no soldier. The only thing I’d do is get in the way.”
“There’s a possible commendation in it for you and I’m sure a more lucrative contract.”
I said, “Are you trying to bribe us?”
Ratticus sighed. “I got the feeling the mayor wasn’t asking if you could be there.”
“Well, shit.”
I heard Benny say, “Yes, we’ll be there right away.”
“Hold on, Rat—Dr. Finch,” I said. “Who was that?”
Benny stuffed her phone in her back pocket. “That was Colonel Benz.”
“The fatigues guy by the door?”
“I assume. He sounded like him. They want us at Grand Central now.”
“Any chance we can tell him no?”
“We’re going.”
“You know, we’re not married anymore. I no longer have to kowtow to your commands.”
I heard Ratticus’s tinny voice say something, but kept the phone away from my ear.
Benny narrowed her lovely eyes at me. “I’m still your business partner and I run the office. They need us to take them into the tomb so they can set everything up.”
I’d rather give my ex–mother-in-law a sponge bath, but Benny was determined to go.
“Fine,” I said, hanging up on Ratticus.
We’d see him soon enough.
* * * *
“Is that Marvin’s van?” Benny asked as we got out of the cab in front of Grand Central. It was one in the afternoon and people were hurrying in and out of doors. You knew who the tourists were by how slow they walked and if they looked up. Real New Yorkers speed walk and never crane their heads back to admire the buildings.
“I called him,” I said.
“This is a top-secret operation. You can’t just call a friend to watch.”
“Hey, Marvin is the one who thought to check the tomb. And he was in the Marines. He has more of a right to be here than us.”
Marvin’s van was parked in front of a fire hydrant. He waved when he saw us.
“You’re gonna get towed,” I said.
“I told the cop I have business inside.”
“That you do,” I said.
“So, where are the big guns?” he asked. He looked a little cleaner than usual. I noticed his shirt looked like it had recently seen an iron.
“We’re meeting Dr. Finch in the lower concourse, by the shoeshine stand,” Benny said.
“Which one?” Marvin said.
“The one with a Ratticus,” I said.
We entered Grand Central, the smell of fresh-baked bread and cookies from Zaro’s calling to me. Marvin had a hard time keeping up with Benny, who was just a tad too anxious to get in the middle of this shit storm for my liking.
Ratticus paced by the shoeshine stand next to the Hudson News store. A man and woman in fatigues with formidable rifles stood by one of the track entrances nearby. It was sad to realize that in the post-9/11 world, that was commonplace.
“They ask you to pull the fire alarm?” I said to Ratticus.
“Who is he and what is he doing here?” he said with thinly veiled disgust.
“That is the man who found the rats in the tomb. Marvin Lasher, meet Dr. Randolph Finch, the man behind Degenesis.”
“Don’t expect me to shake your hand,” Marvin said.
“Likewise.”
Benny checked her watch. “They’re going to evacuate any minute now. We have to stay right here.”
I looked down at my old work boots, considered if a shine would make any improvement. I decided the only way to improve them would be to burn them.
An emergency siren bleated throughout the terminal. It echoed off the walls, piercing my brain like a dagger. We had to cover our ears.
Some people continued as if nothing was happening. Others stopped what they were doing and looked around. A few looked ready to panic.
An announcement was made that they were evacuating Grand Central. No reason why was given, nor should it have been. People started to run. I saw a beautiful woman in an expensive pantsuit start to cry as she darted past us in her high heels.
“They think they’re going to die,” I said, leaning close to Benny so she could hear me over the commotion.
“Can you blame them?”
No. With the escalating insanity all throughout the world, every time you went out, especially in target areas, all sorts of horrible things were possible.
A ton of incoming military fought against the tide, sweeping into the terminal, which only helped to make people more nervous. Within five minutes, everyone was out.
Well, everyone but the four of us and a battalion of troops.
Someone mercifully cut the siren off.
Colonel Benz approached us, his face all hard lines and sharp angles.
“Who is this?” he said, looking at Marvin.
Marvin saluted.
“He knows the tomb better than any of us,” I said. “Marvin is the reason we found the rats down here.”
The colonel looked him over, then said, “Okay, why don’t you show me what we’re up against?”
“Should I wait here?” Ratticus said.
“It’s best you come with us.”
I detected the tiniest hint of glee in the colonel’s eyes.
I liked him.
Marvin led the way, opening the first door and making his way down the stairs. We had ten soldiers in tow. One of them was armed with a flamethrower. The little kid in me wanted to ask him if I could try it.
At least the military had great flashlights. Their high-powered beams brought some artificial daylight to the tomb.
None of them so much as flinched when we came across the first corp
se. In their hunger, the rats had picked the bones clean. It was far less revolting to look at now. Someone in City Hall had made the right decision not to send people down here to recover the bodies and possibly end up with more.
We walked in a straight line down the tunnel, the refuse, bones, and rat feces in full view.
“I can’t believe people choose to live down here,” Colonel Benz said, jaw clenched.
“You should see the shelters,” Benny said. “This is like the Taj Mahal.”
I had replaced the wadded-up newspapers over the entrance before we left. For some reason, I didn’t want to tip the rats off that we’d been there. It was irrational, but so what?
“In there,” I said, pointing.
Marvin kicked the papers away.
I groaned. The burrow was much bigger than before. I worried that it meant the rats had left the building.
The caterwauling of the rats that emanated from the burrow relieved my fear.
“And you say this is the only way in or out?” the colonel asked.
“They could have burrowed several other exits,” I said. “Rats always make sure they have more than one way to get out of their den. I did poke my head in there but couldn’t see any.”
“Could be solid rock even they can’t get through,” Marvin said.
“We can only hope,” Benny said.
The colonel pointed to one of his men. “Go inside with Mr. Jackson; drop a flare so he can look around.”
My heart went into overdrive.
“Why me?”
“You prefer sending your wife or this older gentleman?”
Marvin bristled. “Older gentleman?”
I looked to Benny. She would go in a heartbeat, and that wouldn’t do.
I said, “We’ll have to widen the hole a bit.”
A soldier scampered by me with a small shovel and attacked the burrow.
“Why aren’t the rats coming out?” Colonel Benz said.
“They’re in a kind of frenzy,” Benny said. She hadn’t seen what I’d seen. A kind of frenzy was putting it mildly.
I looked at the guy who was going into the burrow with me. He was older, maybe in his late thirties, with dark, unblemished skin and eyes hardened by combat somewhere and sometime in his past.
“He’ll see,” I said. “Ratticus, care to join us? It might help your research to observe their behavior in their den.”
If looks could kill, I would have been dead five times over.
“That’s a good idea,” Colonel Benz said. “With any luck, this will be your last chance to see it. Use it to make sure you don’t repeat your mistakes.”
Even Ratticus knew to keep his mouth shut. The burrow was widened to accommodate three grown men.
“You recon, and we’ll prepare the gas,” Colonel Benz said. He nodded and a soldier from the rear handed us each some kind of breathing apparatus.
“Do we put it on now?” Marvin asked.
“Yes,” the colonel said.
“Ready to see what you can never unsee?” I said to Ratticus. I think he told me to fuck myself. It was hard to hear with the mask on.
We got on our hands and knees and crawled into the burrow.
When we got above the den, the sound of mad squealing was all-encompassing.
“You’ll want to cover your eyes for a moment,” the soldier said, lighting up a flare that was brighter then the sun. He dropped it on top of the squirming bodies, incinerating them on contact.
We looked down.
Ratticus’s mask muffled the sound of his girlish cry.
It looked like there were more than yesterday.
And they were not happy to have visitors.
Chapter 16
“This is impossible,” Ratticus said.
“Wrong again,” I said.
Rats filled the vast den in a swelling tide of fur and teeth and madness. It was like watching the ocean as it surged against the shore.
I’d seen pictures from the Million Man March on Washington. This made that gathering look like a Sunday tea party.
The flare strobed as rats attempted to scamper over it, burning themselves up in the process. They didn’t care about the deadly heat. They just wanted to either find a mate or savagely attack any rat in their way.
Even through the masks, the stench was unspeakable.
Amid the undulating bodies were dead rats, their fur chewed away. So much blood had been spilled, the rats were crimson.
And there were more human bones. A skull wormed its way to the surface of the rat sea, only to be swarmed under by a pile of battling vermin.
“There’s too many,” Ratticus said. It was the first intelligent thing I’d heard from him all day. “They can’t all have eaten Degenesis.”
“Maybe whatever was in your mad brew made them such alpha rats, they forced all the rest to follow them in here,” I said.
“Do either of you see exit burrows?” the soldier asked, keeping us on task. His voice registered a little higher than before. I wanted to get the hell out of there as much as he did.
“We need more light over there,” I said, pointing to the far edge of the den.
He lit and tossed another flare far across the den. If he retired from soldiering, the Mets could have used him in their bull pen.
“Marvin was right,” Ratticus said.
“He usually is.”
Except when it came to hygiene tips.
The evidence of rats trying to dig fresh burrows scarred the wall. Beneath the surface lay beautiful, solid rock. It must have been a hard choice for the rats. They needed a den that was safely tucked away and close to food. The trade-off was that they had wedged themselves into a corner.
I guessed they weren’t so smart after all.
“Let’s go back,” I said.
We wriggled backwards, shoulder to shoulder, the sound of the rat horde ringing in my ears.
“It looks like there’s no other way out,” I said to Colonel Benz, brushing dirt away.
“How bad is it?” Benny asked.
“Beyond imagining.”
“How many do you estimate are in there?” the colonel asked.
I looked to Ratticus. “It’s impossible to see how deep the den is because the rats are piled on top of one another. It looks like every rat in the city, but it can’t be.”
“Figure on more than a million and you’ll be good to go,” I said.
“More than a million?” The colonel’s eyes went wide. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who was easily surprised.
“I’m lowballing.”
Colonel Benz shouted, “We’re going to have to use everything we’ve got. On the double!”
Five soldiers hustled past us, each carrying extra-large oxygen tanks. Though I’m sure what was in them was the opposite of oxygen. Another one held what looked like a flamethrower low and against his hips.
They opened a panel on the tanks, pressed a series of buttons and launched the tanks through the burrow.
Colonel Benz turned to the guy with the strange-looking weapon.
“You have twenty seconds. Seal it up now.”
Flames didn’t shoot out of the gun. Instead, a yellow foam jettisoned into the burrow. He used a circular motion to plug the hole with what looked to be a mix of soap and hot wax at a car wash.
Once the burrow was full, he stepped back.
The foam made a bizarre sound, almost like rubbing two Styrofoam coolers together.
“What the hell is that?” Marvin asked.
“Instant sealant,” the soldier said. He kicked the foam with his boot. It had solidified in seconds. “Keeps the gas where it belongs.”
“Move it everyone!” Colonel Benz snapped.
I took Benny’s hand, who in turn took Marvin’s hand, a
nd we retreated. For a second, I wondered if Ratticus would join us and we’d play ring around the rosie.
Once we were a good fifty feet away, the colonel ordered everyone to stop.
The silence was deafening. And disturbing.
The soldier with the actual flamethrower got in front of us. They knew if any rats managed to get out, shooting them would be near-impossible. Fire was the only sure way to get them all. Or at least as many as one could.
Who knew the sound of a million rats being gassed to death was the same as one hand clapping?
This was nothing like the tense heroics in the movie Them!
“For one thing, James Arness didn’t have to die,” I said.
“What?” Benny said.
I didn’t realize I had spoken aloud.
“Do you think it’s working?” Marvin asked.
“Hopefully better than the doctor’s Degenesis.”
I couldn’t see Ratticus’s expression through the mask.
“You should get up top,” Colonel Benz said to us civilians. “We’ll stay down here to mop anything up.”
“I’d like to stay and make sure,” Benny said.
Colonel Benz shook his head. “You’ll have to trust us.”
“Come on,” I said. “I think we more than did our bit for the city.”
The ground rumbled.
“I thought all trains had been canceled,” the colonel said irritably.
Marvin stiffened. “That’s not a train. I’ve been down here enough to know what it feels like when the trains come in.”
I didn’t need to ask what it could be.
“Lights!” I yelled, directing everyone to shine their flashlights down the tunnel.
The rumbling grew louder.
The wall exploded, raining dirt and debris. A dozen fresh burrows appeared as the rats, unable to get past the hardened sealant, used their incredible mass and rabid fury to work faster than conventional earthmoving equipment.
“Holy shit bricks!” Marvin exclaimed.
Thousands and thousands of rats poured out of the burrows. The colorless, toxic gas flowed out with them.
