The Push Chronicles (Book 2): Indefatigable

by J. B. Garner

  With desperate speed, I replanted my legs and felt for the hole I had just made. There it was! Water splashed on my legs, soaking instantly through the thin cotton scrubs as I gathered up the free chain, grabbing the block through the ring. I drew back my hand with this new, crude weapon, and threw it forward, trusting on my amplified mind to direct it dead on target. The sea of sewage lapped at my waist as stone met stone. There was a violent sound as new concrete beat out decade old brick.

  There was a suction of air as the water in this chamber shoved what air there was out of it's brand new escape hole. The sewage was up to my breasts and armpits as I drew the block back out and began to drive it like a jackhammer into the older bricks around the hole. It was going to be close, I thought to myself, as I took a deep breath.

  The water washed over the top of my head as I shattered through the aging mortar. My right arm felt like lead, I was sure I had torn a muscle or pulled a tendon, but I had my hole now. My last battle was with air as I wrapped both of my hands around the last chain that held me prisoner. I resisted the instinct to scream out as I pulled with all of my might. I couldn't hear the cracking of stone through the turbulence, but I could feel myself suddenly come free from the wall. Now I just had to navigate the blind darkness and disorienting currents of the sewer water.

  Or let myself go with the sucking new current I had made with my hole. I ceased struggling against the water and let it carry me, putting my arms out ahead of my head to deflect any debris or jagged edges I might encounter. The rushing current shot me through the hole like a torpedo.

  For the briefest of moments, my head crested the water's surface to feel cold, fetid air, but that moment passed as the weight of my chains began to pull me straight back down to the bottom of whatever chamber I was in now. My lungs were already starting to cry out for oxygen, but I pressed on, pulling myself down the chains to the blocks below. Whatever my body wanted, it wouldn't get until I was free of these weights.

  I fumbled for a moment with numb fingers, trying to feel out the rings themselves. There was no way out of these manacles, at least not the moment, but I thought I could probably fake swimming enough to survive without the stone weights. What seemed like eternity passed without fresh air until I had I found the first ring. I quickly wrapped a few lengths of chain around the enlarged ring, following up by planting my feet on either side of it. I tried to think of it as a very important rowing session as I pushed with my legs while pulling on the chain itself. After an agonizing second, there was the wonderful sensation of freedom as I pulled the short length of chain past my submerged head.

  By the time I had torn the other ring free, I could feel myself graying out. I barely knew which way was up, but I focused my willpower and kept myself awake, kicking hard. Panic started to overtake me after a moment. I should surely have reached either the water's surface or the roof of the tunnel, I wagered. Still, I had one more kick in me.

  I was never so glad to take a lungful of smelly, rotting sewer air in all my life. Though the sudden onrush of water had almost filled this sewer tunnel, I could tell already the water was receding slowly, redistributed throughout the network of tunnels and pipes, like so much excessive rainfall. That was as much a problem as a solution. I wasn't just floating; I was rushing through the darkness, barely staying afloat in the equivalent of white-water rapids with steel chains around my wrists. I didn't give the sewer rats the satisfaction of hearing me scream as I careened through the rushing current into whatever new peril lay in the darkness of the sewer.

  I was being tossed like so much salad by the waves. The initial turbulence was the worst as the water from the pumping room I had been imprisoned in was focused through the narrow hole I had punched out, but it still took all of my attention and a fair bit of luck to both keep my head above water enough to breath and to avoid loosing a major body part to some obstruction or debris.

  It didn't matter how strong or nimble or quick I was, nature and the laws of hydrodynamics were far superior. Between the strong currents, the disorienting darkness, and the pounds of steel chain around my wrists, I spent far too much time with my head below the sewage line and it was starting to wear on me. Before my head was driven once more under the surface, a chance for salvation glinted ahead in the form of some overhanging pipes crossing the tunnel.

  I had wound the chains around my wrists to keep them from pulling me to the bottom. Now, though, I quickly unwound one of those lengths. The tunnel and my current condition offered a hundred distractions, all of which I tried to ignore. I wouldn't have another chance at this, not for sure. On the surface, the idea was simple: swing chain around pipe, pull up, then enjoy a victory breath. What complicated matters was the four or five inches short I thought I would come if I just swung it over my head, the unpredictable waters, and the sheer insanity of the plan. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I had already defied death several times over recently. What was one more time?

  I stopped fighting to keep my head above water, taking a single deep breath as I let myself plunge into the depths. That terrific, accelerated brain was the only thing I could count on to give the cue to kick straight up with all of my might. If I calculated right, I could just get enough height off of the jump. If I was wrong, I would probably plow into the walls of the tunnel, knock myself out, and drown. I just felt my bare feet touch the tunnel floor when that mental timer went off.

  I kicked hard off the floor, launching my body up through the murky sewage. There was time for one more powerful kick of my legs before I broke the surface. No time to clear the sewer muck from my eyes; I simply swung the chain over my head and prayed. My forward momentum was suddenly arrested, as clattering metal and a horrible creaking sound filled the air. I had no time to cheer for my safety, because that chain started slipping immediately.

  I yanked with my chain hand as I grasped overhead with my other arm. Before I was tossed once more into the dank water below, my fingers gripped around a grime-covered pipe. Grimacing with effort, I pulled my other arm free and grabbed hold before hauling myself up onto the pipes.

  For the first time, I was able to find the time to assess where I exactly was. There was a faint luminescence that provided some dim light here, probably from some fungus or chemical, allowing me to see a little. From the rundown of the sewer system Rachel had given us, this had to be a main tunnel. It wouldn't normally be so flooded and it was likely that the water would recede shortly once the engineers realized there was a breech in the system. In theory, if I waited a few minutes and paid attention, I should be able to fumble my way to the surface in short order.

  So I waited, hanging like a drowned rat from my sewer pipe. There were so many questions running through my head. How much time had passed since our sewer assault? Was anybody hurt? Was anybody dead? What exactly did Mackenzie's last cryptic statement mean? What was this theft he mentioned before he left me to die?

  That was the only question I had an answer to. Ian was going to steal my bio-feedback device from the Georgia Tech campus and my old laboratory. If he was still planning on trying to reverse the Whiteout, he would need that and undoubtedly that was one of the reasons he had tried to get me to join up with him. Of course, there was no telling if I would be able to do anything with that knowledge, trapped down here with no lines of communication.

  It was the thrashes in the water that caught my attention. There was a figure in the darkness as the waters continue to dwindle, human-shaped by what I could see. Who it was I couldn't tell and frankly didn't care; what was important was that he or she had just gone into a dead man's float after a last splash. So much for staying safe and dry.

  I let go, angling my descent to put me in the water just a little ahead of the floating body. Hopefully the current had weakened enough that I could actually get to whoever it was before they drowned. I touched off the bottom of the water almost immediately and broke the surface once more. The current had, indeed, dialed back from 'whitewater death' to 'swift m
ountain stream', so a few hard kicks was all it took to torpedo me beside the floating figure. I grabbed the figure, a man it turned out, by his armpits and flopped him over on his back. For now, faith would have to be the only thing guiding us safely as I had to focus all my efforts to keeping the two of us above water and trying to bring the man around.

  At least the man was able to breathe on his own which he showed off by letting out a tremendous shuddering gasp before coughing up water. After that first convulsion, I recognized the person. The high-and-tight hair, the paramilitary garb; this was the one human assistant I saw during my talk with Mackenzie. What the hell was he doing here? It was with that question in mind that his body floated high on a wave, breaking the brackish sewer water. The reason for his condition, at least, was now quite obvious: There was a large exit wound in his gut; the man had been shot in the back.

  My mind raced, trying to figure out how to save the both of us. He needed a trauma center on the double if he were to have any chance of living, but how could I get him there? I could barely be sure I would be able to keep myself alive, let alone get us both to safety. I scanned the environment, hoping to find an answer. His loud groan of pain interrupted my thoughts.

  "He shot me," the Hog moaned. "Why? I was a good solider." He didn't seem to realize the full extent of his condition and I was forced to spend valuable energy keeping his thrashes from overturning the both of us. "I just didn't want to die like my buddies."

  "The vampires?" I found myself asking. The urge to pump this poor bastard for information felt so wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I had to know what was going on or there would be far more casualties than this one man. It didn't make me feel any less slimy though.

  "Yeah," he croaked, spitting up some more dank water, "he said they'd be martyrs and would go to heaven but that's crazy." He clutched the collar of my scrubs and stared hauntingly into my eyes. "God doesn't make monsters like that ... like you." I felt a little less bad about my questions after that.

  "What's he up to then? Where are they?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw an approaching wall. Maybe I could brace us against it until the water finished draining?

  "Pumps to the barracks, change 'em all at once," he choked out. "One night, one big surge."

  There was that wall. I kicked hard to turn us around and got ready. As the water swept us towards the stones, I managed to make contact with both feet, slowing us for a moment. Even barefoot, I couldn't find purchase in the rough bricks and we would have been swept away once more if luck hadn't presented itself in a series of rungs. I managed to snag onto one of them and held on, holding the dying man against the wall for support.

  "The barracks, where are they?" It was obvious from what Ian had said that the actual attack hadn't happened yet. Maybe there was a chance to prevent this from even happening.

  "Skyway." That was the one word he gasped out before falling unconscious. I felt numb; I never thought I would hear that name ever again. Why there? Had Eric left something behind that Ian was using? The Hog suffered another spasm that brought me out of my thoughts. Maybe he would die before I could save us both, but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to try. I kicked against the current until I managed to snag one foot, then the other into the rungs.

  "Hold on, buddy, this isn't going to be easy." I snaked my arm as best as I could manage around his chest, trying to loop his arms, and then began to climb. Painfully, we ascended. As we rose into the darkness above, I could only hope that whatever was up there was better than what was below us.

  Chapter 15 Reunion

  I made a final heave and tossed my badly injured human cargo into drier air. There was only the usual amount of sewer slime and muck instead of the raging torrent below us. Unlike the faint luminescence below, this tunnel was pitch black, which still made it a million times better than the watery grave we had left behind.

  The Hog made another wheezing gasp beside me. Gently feeling in the dark, I found his hands clutched over his gut wound. I couldn't help but feel sympathy for the man. No matter the horrible things he did before, death is never the right solution to the problem. Dead people can't make amends for the past, they can only rot. Even so, I surprised myself when I clutched his trembling hands, trying to be soothing.

  "We'll get you out of this, I promise." I hated giving promises I couldn't keep, but this once, if it could maybe make his last moments easier, I would do it. I was being realistic: No matter how hard I tried, the chances that this man would live through it was next to none. I closed my eyes, trying to center myself and push on.

  What became apparent as I closed my eyes was that we weren't alone. I heard metallic scrapes and the crunch of debris under a boot sole from down the tunnel to my right. Was it the sound of salvation or damnation? I didn't know, but I took my usual stance, expect the worst but hope for the best, as I pulled the Hog to one side of the tunnel. Luck was on our side, as we moved behind some vertical pipes just as bright white lights flashed down the tunnel in our direction. I pressed my back against the pipes and kept my breathing low and under control.

  The lights danced as their owners moved, first in an indecisive circle, then a slow advance towards our place of concealment. I tried to peek through the small gaps in the pipes, but the lights were far too bright for my eyes, adjusted as they were to the bleak darkness of the sewers. The boots sounded ever closer and I could make out at least two sets of steps. I held my breath, trying to be utterly still. I would need the element of surprise until I figured out if these were friend or foe.

  As the figures moved past the pipes right next to me, I acted. I reached out quickly, one hand gripping around the lapel of a jumpsuit that had to have snakeskin leather sleeves if the arm I caught in my other hand was representative of the whole. My physical reflexes were firing faster than my brain as I yanked the female form into the little alcove and jammed her against the pipes.

  "What the hell?" came the hissing shout. Wait, was that Medusa? It had to be, even though I was blinded by the headlamp on her head, as my fingers seeped through the unreal scaly skin to touch the flesh of her arm. I didn't have time to formulate a reply as two armored hands grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked back with a mechanical whir.

  "Stay away for her, knave, or else I will -" The threat ended abruptly, interrupting itself with a question: "Milady? Is that you?" I put a hand up to shield my eyes, but my ears told me everything I needed to know. It was the Argent Archer and Medusa. It was salvation, after all.

  "Yes, it's me," I said. "Why do you even need to ask that?"

  "Chica, let'sss jussst sssay that ssscrubs and blood aren't you," Meds snorted, then threw her arms around me abruptly. "We thought you were dead." I couldn't help but reciprocate the gesture. The joy at seeing even a few of my friends again was seeping in.

  "Egads," Archer cried. "What happened to this man? Is he even still alive?" I pulled away from Medusa with a touch of guilt. I had someone to take care of and I had forgotten completely about him for that one moment.

  "He's been shot and took a dip in the sewers," I explained quickly. "I don't know if we can but we've got to try to save him." Archer certainly had to have recognized the Hog's uniform, but there was no hesitance at all as he scooped the man up in his armored arms.

  "Then it shall be!" The knightly Crusader dipped his helmet to the two of us. "I shall get him to aid more swiftly alone. I shall meet you back at the Foundation." His jet pack unfolded as he turned. "Huzzah!" he shouted as he flew off down the tunnels.

  "Lead the way, Meds," I nodded to the snake-woman. "We can't dally either. Mackenzie is about to move." Medusa raised her brow as she started to backtrack.

  "Sso he really iss behind all of thisss? Between looking for you and dealing with Hog bombingsss, we've been completely tied up for daysss."

  "Days?" I followed Medusa automatically, paying far more attention to the conversation than the scenery. "How many?"

  "Only two," she answered. "I sssuppose the 'only' part issn't
very comforting, iss it?"

  "No, not at all." From the sound of it, Ian had been very busy these past few days. At least his big finale hadn't happened yet, had it? It couldn't have been an hour since he chained me to that wall to die. "There's still time, though."

  "Mind filling me in?" We had to be close to the surface now, climbing up another set of rungs. Natural light seeped through cracks in the grate above us.

  "All at once," I said as we came out onto the sun-baked streets. From the sun's position, I guessed it was mid-afternoon. "Damn, I just wish we had more time."

  Medusa looked into my eyes and smirked. The past few days had not been kind to my friend. The bandaged arm, the fresh scratches and gouges in her scales, the weary look in her snake-eyes, they were all marks of her condition, but still, somehow, Medusa could always crack a smirk.

  "With you back, we have more than enough time."

  "Indy!" The Human Tank was surprisingly contained in his speech, but not so contained with the monstrous bear hug around my ribs.

  "Tank," I interrupted, trying to worm my arms down to get myself some breathing room. "I'm fine, I'm good, nice to see you too." Diligently, the teen cyborg set me back on my own feet. I looked around the room, glancing from face to face to face. Tank, Meds, Hex, and Mind's Eye were here, in the Foundation meeting room where it had all started a few days ago.

  "Shucks," Hexagon said, "I knew we'd find you somehow." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm still awful happy to see it happen sooner as opposed to later though."