by Budgett, Jay
“You’re right,” she said. “Now’s the time to be a decent human being.”
My heart beat faster and my hands got sweaty. Charlie made me a better person.
She grabbed a woman and had her take the boy with her , then pushed through the crowd to the compartment. I sprinted to catch up with her.
Fire raged around us as we climbed back into the compartment we’d just abandoned.
“This is a drill,” the voice announced over a loudspeaker. “This is only a drill.”
“Some drill,” Charlie muttered, pushing a strand of hair away from her bright blue eyes.
Another explosion sounded in the Tube. The cracks in the ceiling gave a final hiss and then burst wide open, the water rushing in. The loudspeaker fell silent, and the subway car’s doors slammed shut, sealing us in. Charlie, unfazed, pointed to a row farther down the aisle.
A six-year-old girl sat whimpering on the ground. “I think it’s broken,” she said between sobs. “I’m gonna die in here.”
I shivered. She seemed too young to be talking about death. I was reminded again how familiar it was, the threat of it perpetually hanging over all our heads.
The girl looked around. “Where’s Shawn?” she said. “What happened to Shawn?”
There was a loud crack—the Tube had snapped. The floor lurched beneath us as the subway car groaned and twisted, breaking free of the Tube’s shattered casing. We were sinking.
I offered the girl a hand. “We’re gonna get you out of here. Okay, little dude?”
She frowned. “I’m a girl. Don’t call me dude. My name’s Sandra.”
“Er—right then, Sandra,” I said, “we’ll get you out of here.”
Charlie tried to help her up, but she shook her head. “It hurts to move.”
Charlie offered her a chopstick. “Have a margarita, then.”
The girl smiled and cautiously took the dangling pendant. It was no dinosaur sticker, but it was better than nothing, and seemed to calm her a bit.
Something heavy slammed against the sinking subway car as it plummeted into deep ocean. The world grew dark. Water spurted in through cracks in the doors. Hands pounded against its sealed glass windows. People from the Tube, sinking alongside us, drowning like rats as water rushed to fill their throats.
The compartment began to tilt. It was quickly filling with water, and the remaining pockets of air raced to one side, lifting the compartment vertically. We wedged ourselves in between two rows of seats. My feet dangled beneath me as water lapped at my heels. Sandra held onto Charlie’s arm. Charlie held onto mine.
Beyond the subway’s walls, shadows sped toward us, growing larger as they approached. Shadows that big meant only one thing: megalodons. Monsters of prehistoric proportions. Another byproduct of the war’s nuclear fallout. Creatures born and bred from radioactive evolution. They usually lurked outside Federal waters, kept at bay by electrical nets. But today, of all days, those nets must have failed.
Just our luck.
Charlie squinted out the window. “What is that? What’s going on out there? Are those shadows—?”
A corpse slammed against the subway car. The red cabin lights flickered from the force of the impact. We didn’t have long before the power reserves ran out or the ocean short-circuited it. Red streams danced in the water outside the windows—blood.
A megalodon’s gnashing teeth came into view. It was one thing to be told about them; quite another to see one up close. Seven-inch-long teeth, and its body ran upward of forty feet. It was twice the size of the biggest great whites. It shredded the corpse into bits like paper.
Charlie shut the girl’s eyes and rocked her back and forth. The subway’s lights sparked and went out. The girl screamed again.
“Hold my hand,” said Charlie.
It was pitch black, but we could feel the water rise, and soon we were swimming. The subway dove deeper into the ocean. I kicked my legs to keep my head above the water.
Next to me, Charlie panted, struggling to keep herself and the girl afloat. I grabbed the girl and helped her keep her head above water.
Outside, green and white light flooded the water—lanterns. The Federal guards were here at last.
Charlie sucked in a breath. “You see that, Kai?”
I nodded. “They’ll get the nets back on. We’re gonna be okay. We just have to get out of here.”
A lantern pressed up against a window, lighting the compartment with a green glow. There was now only a foot of air between the end of the compartment and us. Not much time at all.
A guard equipped with a ReBreather motioned to us through the window. A shadow passed and his lantern flickered.
Gone.
His lantern floated away. Blood drifted through the water like leaves on a breeze.
The water in the compartment continued to rise.
Charlie gulped breaths. “What’s happening out there? Are the nets back on? Did they get rid of the megalodons?”
An explosion threw us downward, hard, into the water, pushing us all the way to other end of the compartment. There was no air. Hardly any light. Just enough to see that the subway car had broken apart around us.
There must have been another bomb onboard. My body ached from the force of the explosion. My lungs screamed for air—I hadn’t taken a last breath.
Charlie.
Where was Charlie?
A green glow—a lantern floating nearby. I snapped my eyes open and ignored the burn of salt water. A shadow swam past me, hurrying away from the sinking rubble.
It might be Charlie. I kicked hard and grabbed the shadow’s foot. The shadow turned, startled, and the lantern’s green glow caught the waves of curls that danced around her head.
The girl from the screen. The one I’d seen on the subway. The one responsible for all this.
The Lost Boy.
Mila Vachowski.
She slammed her heel against my nose. I fought back tears and held on.
Lanterns filled the water around us with blinding bursts of green and white light. Guards sped in our direction. Mila slapped a button on her body suit. Fins dropped from the fabric, covering her feet in silicon flippers.
I tightened my grip on her ankle. I couldn’t let her get away. Not after what she’d done. I glanced around me. The megalodons were gone, disappearing as quickly as they’d come; Charlie and Sandra were nowhere to be seen. The sea around me was empty now, save for the guards and the corpses.
Mila kicked hard and swam through the water. I struggled to hold her ankle. Despite her fins, the guards gained on her, rising with the help of jets. They circled us, and the water bubbled as they fired projectiles at her. At both of us.
They must have thought I was a Lost Boy—a terrorist. That I was partially responsible for killing all these people. And there was no one to tell them differently. No one to explain what I was doing. That I was trying to be a hero, not a villain.
Mila dodged the guards’ shots left and right. Bullets couldn’t be used underwater, I realized, so they were firing darts instead. Something pricked my left leg. A burning sensation rose up my calf.
I’d been shot. My leg was going numb. The lack of sensation rose as Mila swam. Soon I couldn’t feel my left leg at all. Then neither of my legs. Eventually, nothing below the waist.
But I couldn’t let go. If I let go, the guards would swarm me.
The lanterns continued to rise with us. One of them lit up two shadows hanging motionlessly in the water. Another revealed blond hair and chopsticks shoved into a messy bun.
Charlie. Blood floated around her head.
At last I released Mila’s ankle, and she swam away. The numbness ran faster up my spine. I paddled toward Charlie, willing my arms to move, to compensate for my numb, worthless legs.
I knew Charlie couldn’t hold her breath like I could—she wasn’t a free diver—and by now, even my lungs were burning. Best-case scenario, she was unconscious. I didn’t want to think about the other scenarios.
The lanterns’ light and the guards followed me. They’d already hit me once. They knew I was the weaker of the two. And now they swiveled their darts toward their single target—me. Bubbles burst by my ears as darts sailed past.
Charlie was an arm’s length away. I tried to stretch out a hand, but my shoulders locked up, numb. My lungs screamed for air.
I threw my head to the side and swung a hand forward with the momentum. The tips of my fingers were inches from Charlie’s.
A dart plunged into the hand stretched toward Charlie. Euphoria filled me. Intense warmth radiated from where the new dart struck. Uncle Lou had told me this happened when a Dummy Dart’s serum recalibrated your brain. He said amnesia followed.
And then there was darkness.
~~~~~~
My eyes burned as they snapped open. The world was blurry. Dark. Cold. Wet?
I fought to remember where I was, and how I’d gotten here, but knew nothing.
Nothing.
Panic crept into the corners of my heart. I gasped involuntarily as my lungs demanded oxygen. Water rushed in instead. White spots floated in my vision.
I was drowning. A green light glowed overhead. I tried to kick, but my legs were numb. My lungs sucked in another breath. Consciousness danced around my head, like the faint memory of black curls and blood.
I stared ahead and saw blond locks floating in the water.
Charlie.
Then blackness again, followed by the slow creep of death.
Chapter 4
I woke in a dark room, with concrete walls and no doors or windows. Prison?
A bouquet of red hibiscuses sat in the corner. Not prison. I shut my eyes, and saw a subway’s flashing red lights.
“This is only a drill.”
The Tube had cracked in half. Megalodons had swarmed. Federal guards had tried to kill me. Charlie had floated motionless in the water.
Where was she now?
I glanced down. I was wearing a white cotton shirt that stretched to my knees. My cargo shorts from the Tube were missing. Dad’s cheeseburger socks were gone, too.
I slid from the cot I’d been lying in and felt the tingle of cold concrete floor on the balls of my feet. My legs had gone numb, I remembered that, but now I felt them. The dart’s paralysis had only been temporary. I did a little dance in the room’s corner.
A red dot stained my forearm. I remembered the Dummy Dart, and the euphoria that had ensued. It had been a small dose, but I still remembered water flooding my lungs. Even small doses could prove deadly underwater.
The Dummy Dart’s serum could stun, drown, and kill a person by making them forget they were underwater and causing them to breathe. Apparently the dose they gave me wasn’t enough to make me forget much else. The Feds had thought I was a Lost Boy, so they probably wanted me to remember everything. I guess I was lucky.
A latch in the ceiling creaked open, and a ladder was lowered into the room, followed by a plump woman in her late twenties. Her hair was short, brown, and curly, and her red cheeks were chubby like a chipmunk’s. She wore a sundress covered in painted hibiscuses. It matched the vase of flowers.
“Ooh! You’re awake!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “So lovely to finally make your acquaintance. We’ve been waiting nearly a week.” She offered me her hand. “I’m Kindred,” she said, “Kindred Deer. Like the animals that used to live in the forests.”
I hesitantly shook only the tips of her fingers. She didn’t seem to mind my reluctance.
I wanted to ask her a hundred questions. Where was I? Where was Charlie? Was Kindred an enemy or a friend? Was she with the Feds? I’d heard the Federation had odd ways of dealing with criminals. People who’d effectively wasted Indigo vaccines by squandering their lives. I couldn’t imagine what they did to terrorists.
I patted my head and felt my black hair tangled in knots. I settled for the first question on my mind. “Where am I?” I asked.
Kindred raised a hand to her face like a caricature and giggled. “Silly me,” she said. “Silly Kindred. Let me be the first to welcome you to Texas.” She skipped around the room and wiggled her hands above her head like a cheerleader.
I glanced around at the room. Still just concrete walls and a crappy bouquet of hibiscuses. Three flowers fell from their stems as Kindred spun. She raced to stick them back on, inadvertently crushing the rest of the flowers in the process.
“Well, not Texas,” she said, “but New Texas. The ‘Republic of New Texas,’ if we’re being politically correct. Though, Lord knows I haven’t the head for politics. Don’t tell the others,” she whispered, “but usually I just call it Texas. The others, however, are particular about that sort of thing. Your safest bet is to refer to it as New Texas or—and perhaps this would be best for everyone—not refer to it at all. Yes, that would be best. Don’t refer to it at all. We don’t want the,” she mouthed ‘Feds,’ “to find out it, do we, dear?”
I smiled and nodded. Kindred returned her attention to adjusting the flowers.
If she wasn’t a Fed, then who was she? If New Texas wasn’t part of the Federation, then where was it? But, most of all, who were “the others”?
Maybe I had drowned.
I remembered grabbing Mila’s—the Lost Boy’s—ankle. I’d been holding it when I’d seen Charlie floating in the water. Maybe Kindred knew where she was.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” I asked.
Kindred glanced over her shoulder. Four more hibiscuses fell from their stems. She hastily threw them in her pocket. “Yes, dear?”
“Was anyone else brought to, uh, New Texas? Like a girl, maybe? About my age? One with chopsticks kinda stuck in her hair?”
Kindred rubbed her chin. “Well, now that you mention it, I think I did hear something about a girl.”
“Oh?”
Kindred nodded. “Dead.”
My stomach dropped, and my heart screamed. I’d been too late.
“Actually,” said Kindred, “now hang on a minute. I suppose I was thinking about one of my radio soaps—Waves of Our Lives. But I did hear something about you reaching for a girl in the water. But don’t worry, dear. That one’s alive.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. A weight lifted from my chest. “She’s here, then?” I asked.
Kindred shook her head. “I’m afraid not. The baddies got her. Keeping her hostage, if I remember correctly.”
My heart sank again. The Lost Boys had gotten Charlie and were holding her hostage.
Kindred patted my shoulder. “How about we go up and I get us some blueberries? That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I think I’d like some blueberries.”
“Of course you would, dear.” Kindred walked back to the ladder and climbed. “What’d you say your name was again?”
I followed her up. “Kai.” I said. “Kai Bradbury.”
The name fell from my mouth before I had time to think. I should’ve given her a fake name. Found out who she was, what her allies wanted from me, before telling the truth. But she just nodded.
We reached the top of the ladder, and I saw that the room above was made from a concrete of sorts, like the basement. I tapped a wall and it echoed—hollow. On one wall was a steel door; across from it, a barred window. Outside, there was a clear view: sunlight sparkling off the ocean waves.
Was New Texas a part of one of the islands? It had to be—Kindred must be using a code name. From the window, I could see that there were no other buildings on the beach. Limited infrastructure. Maybe we were on Kauai? The other islands’ beaches were too built up…
Kindred led me to the kitchen. “You can meet the others once you’ve had something to eat, dear.”
I nodded and muttered thanks, wondering if we were in a mental institution. Maybe one of the Ministry of Research & Development’s experimental departments. That would explain the barred windows.
Rows of glass cupboards lined the kitchen’s walls. Kindred skipped to the fridge.
“Don’t be nervous about meeting the others,” she assured me. “They’re all such dears.”
I wondered how many more times Kindred would say “dear” in the next ten minutes.
She tossed me a bowl of blueberries and powdered sugar. My stomach growled. I was starving. By the time I’d finished, Kindred’s “dear” count was at ninety-seven.
“Nets are down and it’s only nine a.m.,” called a deep voice from the other room. “Gonna be another long day, Kindred.”
She scrubbed another bowl of fruit in the sink. “But I’ve got blueberries, dear. Freshly picked from my garden. That’s got to count for something.”
“I thought we finished those at Bugsy’s—uh…” the voice sniffed as though its owner were crying, “…goodbye thing a couple nights ago. There’s still some left?”
A tall boy, about eighteen, poked his head into the kitchen. His eyes were two spaces too far from his nose, and his top row of teeth jutted from his lips even when his mouth was closed. Stray hairs were scattered across his chin. He looked vaguely like a squirrel.
The boy wiped his eyes and wandered over to Kindred at the sink. I tried not to stare at his sweat-stained shirt and flamingo boxers as I wondered again where I was. I hoped Charlie was somewhere safe.
The boy turned to face me. “Wait a second.” He stared at me with his wide-set eyes. “Who’s this?”
Kindred clapped her hands and pushed him toward me. I panicked and stuck out my hand for a handshake. He gave me a blank look, staring at my hand briefly before giving me a sort of a sideways high five.
Kindred smiled. “You must’ve heard us talking about him, Dove. His name’s Kai Bradbury. He’s the one from the Tube.”
“The clinger? The one who grabbed Mila by the ankle?”
Kindred nodded. “The very same.”
“Well, balls,” said the boy.
“Balls?” I scratched my head.
Kindred patted my arm. “It’s just something he says, dear. You know, like ‘shoot’ or ‘wow’ or ‘crap.’ He wasn’t talking about anyone’s balls in particular.”
“That’s reassuring,” I said. New Texas got stranger by the minute. I shuddered to think what they’d done to me when I’d been unconscious.