by Maguire, Ily
“Your room isn’t too bad. A little too gray and kinda dingy, don’t you think? I’m feeling more blue for you, or even pink. Light pink. Rose pink.” He laughs.
I grimace. I hate pink.
Leland smiles at his own joke.
“It’s not too bad, though, really. We all have rooms like this. Some a little bigger, some a little smaller. You’ve got a sink. You’ve got a privy. And look at that view!” He stares at the bricked-up window.
“Where am I?”
“You’ve been moved from intake on the ground floor to a few floors up. It’s all bricked up so you can’t get out.”
“What about outside?”
“What about outside? You wanna see outside? You wanna go outside? What?”
“Both?” I ask, though I know the only way I am going to get outside is if I escape. “How can I get outside?”
“You’ll see outside when they take you for tests. You’ll invariably pass windows that will show you what you are missing being in here. In order to get outside, well, that’s a different story all together.” He walks over to the sink and runs the water. “Amazing,” I hear him say under his breath.
He splashes water on his face.
“Cold as everything else in this place.” He dries his face on a small hand-towel. “Perfect! You’ve got waterless shampoo if you need it. Better to conserve the water. Sometimes they turn it off or a main breaks. Hang onto this.” He tosses a small, sealed cardboard box up in the air and then places it back down near the sink.
I notice he isn’t wearing the hospital gown anymore, but jeans and a t-shirt. His feet are still bare. He still looks green.
“I’m just a few cells down. You’re locked in. We all are.”
“Then how—”
“There are tunnels all over this place. And I heard you crying. That’s how I knew you were here. I just followed the hopeless sounds of despair.”
“I was that loud?” I touch my face. There are no tears. No streaks of water or salt residue. It burns, raw.
“Nah. When I went back up to see you, you had already been moved. I shoulda gone back sooner to prepare you, but I couldn’t get down there without being noticed.”
“How long have I been here? In this room?”
“Not long. A day.”
“Why did they move me at all?” I ask.
“Once the Imperial Bead pronounces you dead—”
“That was the Imperial Bead?” I am reminded of being stared at in the morgue by two men and a doctor.
“That first day when they pulled you from the freezer. The suits. That was the Imperial Bead and most likely Dr. Flint. She oversees the regenerative program.”
“Was I dead?”
“Probably. Possibly. If you weren’t, The Hollow may try to regenerate life with you. If it’s gonna work with anyone, it’s gonna work with you.”
“Is that how it happened to you?” I ask, wanting not to feel alone. Needing not to feel alone.
Leland shakes his head.
“Another time, another story. The Hollow has no need keeping the front of a regular hospital. Its investors never audit. The Imperial Bead doesn’t care. Here you’ll be monitored and kept alive –”
“For how long? Until what?”
“Until they don’t need you.”
I panic. What does that mean? JJ said something about mismanagement of my traits. Is this what he meant?
My head spins. My hands start trembling.
“Anyone who knows you thinks you’re dead.” Leland states, a little too nonchalant.
“Dead?” But I’m alive! “My parents? Dory? Evie?”
Pike.
“Everyone and anyone,” Leland answers. “It might even have been made public with a memorial or ceremony. Depending on who you are. Who are you, Roz?”
My head still spins. Or is it the room?
Leland is still talking, though I don’t know what he’s saying.
“It’s really a homey little cell you have here, though I’m almost certain your home wasn’t anything like this,” he spreads his arms out and moves them around.
I may throw up. My hands shake now and they hold my head, keeping it from exploding.
“See, I have a feeling they know, but they just don’t care since it doesn’t really bother them. Some of us think it’s just a matter of time before they put an end to it all.”
“They know what? Put an end to what?” I can’t focus. What is he talking about?
Leland laughs and takes my hand. There is no charge. No current. No electricity like with Pike. This isn’t Pike. Pike thinks I’m dead. I’m never going to see him again.
“You want to know what kind of hospital this is?” Leland asks, stretching out his hand.
I nod. I’m helpless.
“Come on, come with me. I’ll show you.”
5
“You want me to follow you down there?” The tile moved out of place, I point to the bottomless pit that Leland has lowered himself into. I’m still wearing a hospital gown and nothing else, but luckily it is one that has been pulled over my head, like a long T-shirt. It isn’t tied because there are no obvious openings other than one for my head and arms.
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
I drop feet first into the floor. Expecting a far fall, I am surprised that it is only two or three feet below the floor of my room.
“You’ll have to get on your belly and crawl, or crouch down on all fours. It’s pretty narrow in terms of headspace,” Leland responds.
I’m in a ventilation tunnel between two floors of The Hollow. It’s dark and tight. I have enough room that my shoulders don’t touch the thin, aluminum walls, and as long as I don’t lift my head, I don’t touch the ceiling either. I look back through my legs and the tunnel continues behind me.
There’s a cool breeze on the back of my legs, the part not covered by the gown.
“Where’re we going?”
“You ask a lot of questions, you know,” he huffs while pushing along the tight space. “You’ve must’ve been given a good education.”
I miss Jenny.
“I don’t need you to think, though. Just follow me.” He crawls on. I crawl on behind him.
“But, my room. I’m not there. The tile.”
“Don’t worry, no one will notice you’re gone. Not yet. Too much energy to do things out of order. Very specific intervals at The Hollow.”
He moves another panel out of place below us.
“Here, take this—” he hands me a rag.
“For what?” I’m not sure what he wants me to do with it.
“Cover your mouth. Better safe than sorry. Just until we get to the tunnels.”
I take the rag and press it to my face as hard as I can. Following Leland, I drop down into an old stairwell. Its iron railing is white and there are embellishments in the spaces between each step. The stairs are marble and a bit slick from the humidity.
“Stay near the wall, but don’t touch it. It could be contaminated,” Leland orders through the rag across his nose and mouth.
“With what?” I can’t imagine. I’ve had to release some pressure to get some air.
“Small pox. Anthrax. Typhoid. Tuberculosis. You name it, it’s been here.”
I pull my body away from the cold tiles.
“Will someone see us? Will we be caught?” I look up and around. The stairs go up at least three more flights. But going down there is a clear path running down the middle that has been tread many times before. Dirty linens are piled along the sides of the stairs.
“Don’t touch them. The monsters that used to run this place couldn’t even be bothered to burn the old sheets. Just disposed of here and there,” his voice trails. “We’re in an un-used part of The Hollow.”
He hurries down the stairs. I run to keep up. Leland pauses on a landing and I catch my breath. The rag is moist and it’s stifling. My nose and chin are wet. I look up.
The layers of paint beneath the ac
tual stairs peels away, the weight pulling it all off and down. We continue down the final flight of stairs until we reach a change in the staircase. It is no longer marble supported by metal, but wood supported by brick. We’ve reached the bowels of The Hollow.
Water damaged, Leland pushes through an iron door. Arch-shaped and covered in flaking rust. It only opens so far. The hinges are rusty as well, and broken. He pushes it closed and pockets his rag. Mine, too. I gasp for air and then clutch my throat. Can I die from respiratory failure? Can I die?
“Where are we?” Where are we going?
“We’re in the Tunnels. Under the building. They radiate out in all directions from the center like a wheel. The tunnels are the spokes and it’s a little like a maze. You’ve got to have a good sense of direction to know your way around and not get lost.”
It’s dark, but there’s a glow in the distance. Water and gas pipes are overhead, covered in film and cobwebs. Walls are painted and chipping, brickwork and cinder blocks exposed beneath. Sediment piles at the bottom of walls around the corners. The floor is covered with wet dirt. Mud. There is a narrow channel down the center of the tunnel. Drainage.
The brick pillars are ten feet apart and hold up larger walls. The farther we travel in, the more narrow it seems to become. I trip and lean against the wall. I slip on it, regaining my balance before Leland notices. The wall is covered in slime mold.
Panels from the ceiling above have fallen and broken into pieces on the ground. What’s landed in the puddles has almost disintegrated and when I glance up, the holes the panels have left are black.
Leland slows down, we’ve reached a fork in the path. On the wall is a warning in red, stenciled paint: BASEMENT AND TUNNELS ARE RESTRICTED AREAS FOR PATIENT USE.
That means us.
Leland goes right and we round a bend. It is much lighter ahead. Almost bright, in fact.
We pass an abandoned wheelchair, covered in grey dust. Rusty. The seat is torn. There are shards of glass shattered around it. I am careful to avoid the glass because I’m barefoot.
“How much farther?” I ask.
“We’re almost there,” Leland calls back. He’s farther ahead of me. I can’t keep up. The dirt underfoot is wet and my feet are cold. I’m painfully aware of my nakedness. While the gown covers me, it feels like it isn’t enough. I jump to avoid another puddle and land in a bigger one. I’m getting tired. I’m making bad decisions.
Was following Leland down here one of them?
“Don’t worry, Roz. A few more days and they’ll put you in something more comfortable. They have no need for you to be wearing that hospital dress inside this place. You’re not going anywhere.”
“How come you were wearing one when I first met you?” I ask.
“In case I got caught. Kinda silly, don’t you think? It’s not like they don’t know where I am at all times.” He points to the flashlight in his palm.
“The nurse stamped my hand when I first got here. Is that how they keep track of me?” I look down at my own palm. I don’t have a flashlight.
“It is, but I don’t think there’s anyone paying any attention. It’s only if we get lost or don’t come back in time.” Leland stops and looks around.
Where are we going? Are we lost?
“There’s an unstated rule around here,” he begins.
I’m listening.
“There’s a place for everyone, everyone in their place.” His stance is straight. “We all arrive to intake on a stretcher. Once we’re moved out, we don’t return. We’ve got nowhere to go around here, unless we want to die. It’s in our best interest to get back to our rooms after a time, no matter what testing they do on us. We can’t survive down here and if we stay too long, it will result in certain sanctions.”
“Sanctions?” I’ve been leaning against the wall. I don’t care if it’s contaminated down here, I’m exhausted. We’re in the farthest corners of The Hollow. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Dark and cold. Lonesome and scary. Empty.
“You know, general restrictions. They take away our water or soap. Our light. I can’t live without natural light, you know?” Leland takes my hand and we continue on, a bit slower than before. His palm light goes out, but it’s still bright. The path is illuminated by some kind of LED light that brightens as we approach, dims as we depart. I didn’t notice it before, but as I look back, I see lights fading in the distance.
“So they know you come down here.” I still can’t believe they would allow us to come down here. I still don’t understand why.
“They know we come down here.”
“Where do these tunnels lead? Where are we going?” I’m still so turned around. I don’t like the feeling of being lost.
“Some lead to the power plant, another to the waste treatment facility.”
“The morgue?” I remember the cold and shiver.
“The morgue is down here, just not anywhere near us.”
“Why did they close it down?” I ask, trying to imagine the sort of place The Hollow was before it was a throw away.
“The population increased from four hundred to twenty-five hundred. It was unmanageable. When it was sold, it included everything including the patients.”
“Where are they all?” How are there 2500 people here? I haven’t seen more than three.
We slow to another stop in the tunnel.
“Most of them have deceased since The Hollow took it over. The disappeared are down here.” He answers.
“Here?” I look around and wonder if they’ve got freedom to roam as we do.
“Yes. But they undergo the more serious tests.”
“What kind of tests?” I want to know before we go any farther.
“Lobotomies, electroshock therapies, gender reassignments in addition to the general organ harvest.” He lowers his voice, “there are even some chemical castrations that have been performed, but I don’t know of anyone who’s undergone that kind of test.”
I shiver.
“They’re harmless,” he reassures. “You’ll see.”
We come to an arch-shaped opening in the earth where the tunnel widens again. There is a large center space, with tunnels radiating out from it. There must be at least a dozen paths. All narrow. All dark. We’re in the middle of The Hollow. Underground.
There is a large puddle in the center, but dry ground around it. Bricks and stones of different shapes surround it and the water within it is blue. It drips down from stalactites on the ceiling. Dim lights illuminate the small space. A few people sit around on flat rocks and the dirt floor. Some even have what look like woven mats. It smells bad.
“It’s a little slice of heaven down here,” Leland says facetiously. There are at least a dozen people that I count, either sitting on the ground or walking, dragging their feet back and forth, their shoulders wearing a groove into one wall where a tunnel has been filled in. Each one has a denim shirt with a number or letter embroidered where a left chest pocket would be. Those who are sitting against the dirt wall have worn an impression into the dirt like a tiny, shallow cave that their bodies fit perfectly into. There are thirty to forty impressions in the dirt.
“Chipchip, chip the code,” I hear a voice. I’ll never forget those words. “You didn’t let them chipchip your code?”
I look around and my eyes widen to see.
“Tithonus? Is that you?” I say to the back of a man away from us. His hair is long and white down his back. Am I dreaming? Pike knew he was alive.
“Rose. Rose. Rosamund.” The man turns toward me. It is him. But his eyes are no longer milky white like when I first saw him, but a crystal-clear blue. I was so scared of him then. I’m not scared of him now, though. I take a step closer and Leland holds me back, his hand on my arm.
Tithonus isn’t wearing the jean shirt like the others, but rather a tattered brown robe, tied at the waist. He has on matching felt slippers. Thin and worn. How long has he been here?
Tithonus extends a hand a
nd waves me over.
“You know him?” Leland asks as he walks with me to the blind man sitting on a small stool against the wall of this dungeon.
I nod and look up.
The ceiling crumbles and part of a brick falls and breaks on the ground.
Leland pats my arm before letting me go. I step closer to Tithonus.
“Rose. Rose. Rosamund.” Tithonus’s old, wrinkled hand waves me to sit. His fingers are bent in such odd directions that it would be impossible to grip or grasp anything for any amount of time.
“They thought you were dead,” I say. I kneel down beside him and he reaches out his hand. Frail and weak, his hand is soft and delicate. Almost like it’s not really there. He’s not scary. I’m not scared. Why?
“They think you are dead,” he responds.
My family.
“Pike. Ezekiel. Your Aegis family,” he adds.
My Aegis family.
“But they don’t know the truth.”
“The truth that I’m alive?” I ask. “Is that why they wouldn’t be looking for me?”
Tithonus doesn’t answer. I look back at Leland who is now looking up, down, all around. I know he’s listening.
“They think you are dead,” Tithonus repeats. “The truth will be revealed. You will see.”
“How? When?” The excitement of hope is invigorating.
“He will find you. It will take time.”
“He, who? Pike? Will Pike come and find me? How could he if he thinks I’m dead?”
“They will find you. Be patient, Rosamund.”
“Well, if they find me, then they find you. Then we can all be saved.”
Tithonus bows his head. “Some of us will leave, some of us will not leave.” His sagging skin hangs lower than minutes ago. He is tired. His hand slides from mine. He closes his eyes. Leland steps closer to me and puts out his hand. I take it and stand up.
“Why is he here?” I ask Leland as we walk away from Tithonus who seems to have turned off. His head rests against his chest.