“Where you died,” says Nyla.
“Right. But when we leave the park…”
“Yes?” I need Billy to tell us everything even though I’m pretty sure his news won’t be good.
“Our spirits can join with others who are…like us. We draw on their energy—their rage.”
“Great—a club for pissed-off dead folks,” says Keem.
“The murder rate in New York City’s no joke,” says Nyla. “There must be dead people all over the place.”
Billy nods somberly. “There’s a lot of misery in this land.”
“Why did you help me?” I ask.
Billy hangs his head so that strands of his brown hair fall forward and cover his eyes. “I had a friend like you once,” he admits, nodding in my direction.
“You mean—he was black?”
Billy lifts up his chin. “Color don’t bother me none. Jake was every bit as brave as me—he’d have fought alongside the rest of us if his master had let him.”
“He was a slave?” asks Nyla.
“Yes. He was born a slave, and for all I know, he died a slave. And there we were fighting for liberty.” Billy’s lips twist with bitterness. “Ma said it was right to fight the British. She come over on a ship as a girl, and it took seven years to work off her indenture. But at the end of it, she was free. Jake and his mama—they weren’t ever going to get that chance.” Billy pauses and then looks up at me. “You think I’ll see my mother and Jake up in heaven?”
Nyla and Keem join Billy in staring at me. I try not to squirm before their expectation that I ought to know where the ship of souls is heading. When I asked Nuru if I would see my mother again, she said the ship was only for those who were “long dead.” Does that include Billy’s mother? Finally I say, “I don’t know, Billy. Nuru said the souls of the dead are seeking peace, and so she’s going to take them back to her realm.”
“Is that Africa?” Billy asks.
I shrug and hope I won’t have to answer any more questions. “We better get going. What time is it?”
Keem checks the lit display on his watch. “Just past one a.m. No wonder I’m beat.”
“I’m starving, too,” admits Nyla. “Can we rest for a little while?”
“You all can rest—I’ll keep watch,” offers Billy.
“Hmph. I know I’ll be sleeping with one eye open,” Keem mutters as he looks around for a dry section of the tunnel.
“Shut up already,” Nyla snaps irritably.
Keem takes the bag of chips out of his book bag and tosses it at Nyla. “I hope you don’t talk in your sleep ’cause I sure am tired of hearing your mouth.”
“We’ll never get any rest if you two keep fighting,” I say. “We’re a team, remember?”
Grumbling under their breath, Keem and Nyla move off in opposite directions. Billy watches them go, then turns and reverts to his skeleton self as he heads away from me and back up the way we’ve come. I decide to stay close to Nyla—partly because I’m hungry, too, and she’s got the chips. I think about what Billy told us—how other people’s rage fuels the nether beings—and wonder if it’s affecting Nyla and Keem, too.
I push my sleeve back up and find that the light in my hand has dimmed. Maybe Nuru’s tired as well. I clear my throat and try to find out what’s up with Nyla. “Keem’s not such a bad guy, you know.”
Nyla says nothing. We’re in a narrow tunnel that only has a thin stream of water running down its center. Nyla slides down the tunnel wall until she’s crouched on the dry part. She sticks out her foot and pins a bloated plastic bag that’s slowly floating by on the slimy water. “What are you—his cheerleader?”
“No! I just wondered what happened to change your mind about him. You two seemed pretty tight before.”
Nyla sighs. She doesn’t seem to have the strength to act fierce anymore. “It’s always that way with guys. Things start out fine and then…”
“Then what?”
She shrugs. “Things change—that’s what.”
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy yet,” I say hopefully.
Nyla gives a tired laugh. “Maybe.” She shakes her foot and sets the bag free. We both watch as it floats away. “Maybe there is no Mr. Right. Not for me.”
I really don’t know what to say to that, so I ask for some chips instead. We eat in silence for a while, and then I suggest that we try to get some rest. Nyla tips her head back against the hard tunnel wall and closes her eyes, ending our conversation. I drift off, too, and wake a few hours later when I feel a strange fluttering inside my chest. Wake up, D. We must proceed across the river. The ship awaits.
I shake Nyla gently until she wakes up. Then I go looking for Keem. He’s stretched out in a short, dry tunnel that’s filled with the soft light of dawn. In the distance, through a rusty grate, I can see the Statue of Liberty out in the river. We’ve come a long way from the park. We outran the nether beings and we’re close to fulfilling Nuru’s mission. I have to admit, I feel pretty proud of myself—and my friends. Then my good feeling disappears and I think about how much I’ll miss the city—and Nyla and Keem—when I’m gone.
Keem mumbles something in his sleep, and I remember Nuru’s message. “Wake up, Keem. We’ve got to keep going.”
To my surprise, Keem sits up and looks completely alert. “Give me a few minutes,” he says in a gruff voice.
“For what?” I ask, but before Keem can answer, Nyla calls me over to her.
“Give him some privacy,” she says. “He probably wants to pray.”
I follow Nyla away from the mouth of the tunnel but glance back over my shoulder and see Keem on his knees. He takes up some of the dust on the floor of the dry tunnel and rubs it over his hands and forearms. I want to keep watching but decide I’d better find my own private corner and handle my business. After I’m done I say a quick prayer of my own.
A few minutes later, we gather in the main sewage tunnel and try to decide on the best way to cross the river. Nuru’s light burns bright in the palm of my hand, but I make a fist to shield Billy from the glare.
“So where is this ship docked?” Nyla asks.
“Docked?”
“Are we heading to a pier or something?” asks Keem.
I look at him and take a deep breath. “The ship is with the dead,” I explain.
Keem frowns. “And where are the dead?”
“Underground?” I don’t mean it to come out like a question, but I’m not really sure that’s the right answer. Nuru doesn’t correct me, though.
Keem rolls his eyes as if to say, “Of course.” Then he lays out his plan. “I say we find a way out of here, take the train into the city, and then find another way underground once we get there.”
“We can’t do that,” I say.
“Why not?” asks Nyla.
“Billy can’t go outside the way we can. We’d have to wait until dark, and even then he couldn’t ride the train with us.”
“Maybe he could stay underground and meet us there,” Nyla suggests.
I shake my head. “He doesn’t know the way. Only Nuru does.” An awkward silence settles between us. “Look, you guys—I couldn’t have made it this far without you, but maybe it’s time for you to go back.”
“You’re ditching us for that ghost?” Keem asks, indignant.
“We have to stay down here—you don’t. Maybe we can find a manhole or something and you can go back to the real world.”
“I’m not leaving you down here by yourself, D,” Nyla says, determined.
“I’m not alone—I have Nuru and Billy.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere with him.” Nyla nods in Keem’s direction and folds her arms across her chest.
I’m not sure what to say to that, but there’s no time to think because Billy pipes up all of a sudden. “We should hurry,” he says in an anxious voice.
“Why? What’s the rush?” asks Keem.
“We should go—now,” Billy says, ignoring Keem and lo
oking straight at me.
“What’s wrong, Billy?” asks Nyla.
“I can feel them,” he replies with a shudder. “They’re coming for me.”
14.
“TRAITOR!”
All of us freeze as the hissing voices echo down the dark tunnel.
Billy turns to me, a look of terror on his pale face. “Go—run!”
“You’re coming with us,” I say. “We’ll find a way to get across the river—you’ll be safe with us.”
“No—I’ll only slow you down. Get above ground—get into the light. They can’t follow you up there.”
Nyla tugs at my arm. “He’s right, D—let’s go.”
“There’s some kind of ladder over there,” says Keem. “It must lead up to a manhole or grate.”
I don’t look to see where Keem’s pointing. I look into Billy’s eyes and see the pain that time hasn’t healed. He wasn’t much older than me when he went off to war and died a horrible death while his fellow soldiers fled to safety. “I’m not leaving you, Billy.”
“D—”
I stop Nyla before she can try to change my mind. “You two take the ladder. Come on, Billy—we can outrun them.”
Billy steps away from my outstretched arm. “No, we can’t—they’ll just follow us until they wear us down. But I can distract them—I’ll lead them away from you!”
“What will they do once they find you?” asks Nyla.
Billy shrugs, but it’s clear he’s terrified. “What can they do? I’m already dead.”
“Listen,” I say, and we all grow silent as a soft rumbling moves the water at our feet.
“It’s a train,” says Keem.
“It’s our train,” I tell him, getting ready to break into a run. “Don’t give up, Billy. We can win this battle—just trust me!”
With one last glance over his shoulder, Billy nods at me and together we race down the tunnel in search of the oncoming train. We don’t stop until we come to a sort of intersection. Our tunnel ends and we have to jump down into a knee-deep pool of water. I look up and am surprised to see an arched brick ceiling overhead. If I didn’t know we were in a sewer, I’d think we were in an old church or even a castle. Then a heap of trash on a wide ledge above us catches my eye. I see stacks of plaid shopping bags stuffed to their limit, and two metal grocery carts brimming with equally full plastic bags. Who could have brought so much stuff down here?
Keem nudges me. “Which way?”
I’m about to say, “I don’t know,” when a woman’s voice booms in the cavernous space.
“HEY!”
I jump and grab hold of Nyla’s arm. She doesn’t look scared, but I can feel how tense her arm is.
“Who’s there?” Nyla asks in a defiant voice.
We all scan the damp, dim space, knowing we have to be ready to fight or flee. Billy silently points to a white candle burning on the far ledge. The flame flickers as the pile of trash starts moving—and then talks to us!
“What you kids doin’ down here? This ain’t for you—this is my world, my world!”
The angry voice belongs to a woman—at least it sounds like a woman. She’s wearing a wool cap and square black sunglasses like the ones Mrs. Martin wears for her cataracts.
“Is that a—bag lady?” Keem keeps his voice down, but the woman still hears him and takes offense.
“I heard that!” she cries, standing up. “You think you can come down here and disrespect me? I’ll show you. I’ll teach you to show respect.” Agitated, the woman starts rifling through her heap of bags.
I’ve seen homeless people before, and I know that some of them band together, forming communities in hidden corners of the city. But I never expected to meet a homeless woman down here. I want to ask how she eats and bathes and lives without light—is she really down here alone? But then I decide I better try to do some damage control instead, otherwise we may end up fighting ghost soldiers and an army of homeless people. I step forward and let my home training lead the way. “Uh—we’re sorry to bother you…ma’am. We’re just trying to find the train.”
The woman stops rummaging through her bags and glares at me. “Train? This look like Grand Central Station to you?”
“No, ma’am, but—well…”
Nyla gives an exasperated sigh. “We’re in trouble—can you help us?”
The woman adjusts her sunglasses and sniffs the air. Is she blind? Why else would she wear dark glasses in such a dark place?
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” she asks angrily.
I look at my friends, hoping they’ll have an answer that will make sense to this strange woman. Before any of us can say anything, she starts mumbling to herself again and roots through one of the jam-packed grocery carts.
“Kids always bring trouble, that’s all they do. Up there they always be messin’ with me when I ain’t done nothin’ to bother them. I mind my own business, I keep to myself.” She stops muttering, pulls a golf club out of her cart, and shouts at us, “I don’t want no trouble! Why you think I moved down here? All I ever wanted was to be left alone…”
“I’m sorry—we don’t mean to disturb you. But…” I pause and search for words to explain our dilemma. “Something’s after us—something evil. We have to get away!”
“Ain’t nothin’ down here but rats. And they won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.”
An eerie, anguished moan drifts down the dark tunnel. The woman freezes and peers into the blackness. She looks alert but unafraid. “Trouble comin’ for sure,” she mutters, taking a few practice swings with her golf club. Then she looks at us hard, her gaze settling on Billy’s pale face. “Where you tryin’ to go?”
“Into the city—we need to take the train,” I say.
“I seen fools die tryin’ to surf them trains. You aimin’ to die young?”
“No, ma’am. We’re trying to stay alive. But—” I glance over my shoulder. “We have to go—now!”
She stares at us for another long moment, then turns and points to a small square opening above one of the brick ledges. “Pull off that grate. You gonna have to crawl on your belly ’cause it’s tight in there. When you come out the other end, you’ll see the tracks. Stay away from that third rail or you’ll fry—you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. And thank you—thank you!”
She waves me off and starts pulling the grocery carts around her to form a protective wall. I want to say something more—warn her about what’s coming, but there’s no time. I turn around and see that Keem has already pulled the grate off the wall. He stoops a bit and makes a step for Nyla by locking his fingers together. Nyla accepts the boost without a word of thanks and pulls herself into the square air vent. Keem hoists me up next, then jumps up and pulls himself into the vent without any help.
I use my knees and forearms to pull myself forward, then stop. “Where’s Billy?”
“He’s behind me—hurry up, D!” Keem gives my foot a shove and I wriggle faster. When I reach the end, Nyla reaches up her hands to pull me out of the vent. We both pull Keem out, and Billy manages on his own.
“Watch out for the third rail,” warns Keem, pointing to the hooded rail running along the far side of the tracks. “Try to stay in the middle.”
We do our best to follow Keem’s instructions, stumbling over trash and splashing through puddles as we move forward. Up ahead we can see white lights shining above the station platform.
“Wait a minute,” Nyla says, holding up her hand. We all stop and listen as a distant roar rumbles behind us.
“TRAIN!” shouts Keem, pulling me into a shallow alcove along the tunnel wall. Nyla and Billy do the same, and we all cover our ears as the silver train streaks by.
“Come on—run!” yells Nyla.
We step back into the tracks and race after the train, which is slowing down to pick up passengers at the station up ahead. Keem reaches the train first and easily pulls himself up onto the back of the last car. He reaches down and pulls Nyla u
p beside him, then they both do the same for me.
I turn and hold out my hand to pull Billy up, but he’s retreating back down the tunnel. “Billy!” I try to jump back down onto the tracks, but Keem and Nyla hold me back. “Billy—don’t go! Don’t give up!”
The flesh on Billy’s bones disintegrates as he moves farther away from me. “The light…”
“You can do it, Billy—don’t be afraid!”
Billy stops retreating but stands in the middle of the tracks shaking his head. “I can’t. I can’t…”
“Leave him, D.” Keem wraps his strong arm across my chest as the familiar ding-dong signals that the doors of the train are closing. In another couple of seconds, the train will pull out of the station.
“Billy, please!” I lean forward as far as I can and hold out my hand.
Billy turns, and whatever he sees in the darkness of the tunnel propels him forward into the light. The train heaves and surges ahead. Billy breaks into a run. Nyla gasps and points at the angry fingers of gray mist licking at Billy’s heels.
“Traitor!”
“Hurry, Billy,” I cry out. “Take my hand. TAKE MY HAND!”
Billy runs harder, flinching as the bright lights from the subway platform beat down on him. The flesh returns to his bones as Billy catches up to the train. My heart pounds in my chest as I will Billy not to fall, not to stop, not to give up. Then Billy looks up into my eyes, and in a split second I see his fear vanish. He makes a desperate leap, and a crackling flash of light blinds us all as Billy’s fingers grab hold of mine. I pull him up onto the narrow ledge and proudly shout, “You did it, Billy—you did it!”
I don’t know if anyone can hear me above the deafening groans of the train. The four of us huddle close together. We hold on for dear life as the train hurtles through the darkness and carries us under the river and into lower Manhattan.
When the train finally slows and pulls into the next station, Nuru speaks to me. I hop down onto the tracks, and the others follow me without question. We walk back down the tracks until we come to a metal door that’s been painted bright yellow. A sign on the door says, “Authorized personnel only.” But Nuru says, Proceed, so I try the doorknob and find that it isn’t locked. A short hallway lit by a caged bulb leads us into another train tunnel. There are tracks on the ground, but the tunnel doesn’t seem like it has been used in a long time. Instead of soot-covered concrete, the curved walls are made of reddish-brown bricks. The air is warm, and there isn’t any water trickling down the walls or pooling between the rails.
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