“Go,” I shot Eli a look.
He scowled back at me, but for once, he didn’t argue. He nudged Christa ahead of him and sauntered off into the shadows, muttering under his breath about bad choices and self-preservation. Falisha grabbed Ballard’s sidearm from the floor, slid it into the front pouch of her backpack, and flung her bag back over her shoulder. She nodded at me and hooked her elbow through Riley’s. My best friend’s voice caught in her throat as she stared down at the small creature that had gone after Bella.
“She was just a little girl.” Riley croaked. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Was,” Falisha said softly leading her away from the child’s body and into the darkness of the tunnel.
Chapter 23
Light at the End of the Tunnel
Ballard’s soft moans and the muffled sounds of our feet shuffling across the concrete echoed softly within the walls of the tunnel until it became little more than white noise. The rhythmic repetition somehow comforted me as we made our way into the darkened tunnel.
There was no guarantee that the scritters wouldn’t find a way in. With any luck, the collection of metal hatches and the never-ending tunnels that separated us would at least slow them down. Besides, thanks to Zander’s latest agonizing adaptation, we now had our very own early warning system.
“What is this place?” Jake grunted, stumbling awkwardly under Ballard’s half-conscious weight.
Ty slid his arm around the guard’s waist, lightening some of the burden from Jake’s shoulders. Though Jake hadn’t noticed the maneuver, his gait immediately became less encumbered. Ty kept his head down, but the smile that spread across his face when Jake heaved a sigh of relief was unmistakable.
“This is mechanical bridge A. It’s one of three maintenance tunnels that span the subterranean mid-line of the airport.” Tessa shone her light in a slow arc from dusty floor to the rounded ceiling and back. “This particular passage was decommissioned in the late 90’s after the last round of renovations was done. Actually, until a few days ago, we didn’t even know it existed. Ballard, there, actually stumbled upon the hatch on his first supply run. It was plated over and hidden behind a huge stack of crates he was trying to bust open down in the sub-basement.”
“Looks like his dumb luck saved our lives,” Ty said, hefting Ballard’s slumped form higher onto his hip. “We got ya, buddy. Hang in there.”
“Hold up. How is that even possible?” Jake asked. “You work in security. How could you not know about this?”
“It’s standard protocol,” Tessa shrugged and kept walking. “When a transport passage is decommissioned, any and all evidence of it is redacted from the system records.”
“To what end?” Eli asked honing his flashlight beam on the center of her back.
“To prevent it from being used as an infiltration point by outside forces,” Tessa shot him a look over her shoulder then turned her attention back to Jake. “When they built the new Bridge A, back in ninety-two, this one was completely scrubbed from every map, blueprint, and security document in the federal database. Essentially, this particular tunnel was erased from existence a full decade before I was assigned here. Even if I had thought to look for a retired maintenance tunnel, there would have been no record of it anywhere.”
“Hey, lady,” Christa said running to catch up to Tessa. “How are you rent-a-cops supposed to keep the terrorists out if you don’t know all the super-secret spy passageways?”
“First of all, I am not a rent-a-cop,” Tessa scowled down at her, the scar on her cheek twisting into a warped frown that swallowed half of her face. “I am a DHS Aviation Security Specialist.”
“You are Homeland Security?” Jake’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and forced his voice lower. “What is a DHS agent doing in a nothing of an airport like Rockford International? That doesn’t make sense.”
“For real,” Falisha said, eying Tessa with scrutiny. “This place isn’t exactly a hotbed for terrorist activity. New York or L.A. I could understand, or even Chicago, but Rockford? Why would the government make you come here?”
“They didn’t, I volunteered,” Tessa shrugged averting her gaze. “It was the only way I was going to—you know what? Never mind. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Tessa shook her head and stalked off down the tunnel. The others’ questions had struck a nerve, and she immediately shut down. For the next few minutes, no one spoke above a whisper. Tessa kept at least ten yards between herself and the rest of us.
When we reached the next release valve gearbox, Tessa stopped short. She turned to us, a hand held up indicating we should do the same. We gathered in a clump in the middle of the tunnel and waited with baited breath.
“What’s going on?” Riley whispered, hooking her arm through mine. “Why are we stopping?”
“I dunno, Ry,” I said softly.
“I want to get out of this stupid tunnel,” Riley said. Her breath came in short, tight bursts as she looked around nervously.
Tessa put a finger to her lips and shook her head. She reached into the front of her shirt and pulled out her whistle. She tapped the toe of her boot against a large ducting tube that ran the length of the floor. Then put the whistle to her lips and blew two short chirps into a large metal grate. The high-pitched twittering echoed down the tube in both directions before fading into the distant shadows.
A couple of seconds later, three dull thumps echoed back through the duct followed by two sharp chirps. The sweet sound of a birdcall seemed eerily out of place as it reverberated about in the dark and lifeless underground passage.
“We’re good,” Tessa nodded spinning on her heel.
Zander held me close to his side as we walked, but neither of us spoke. I could feel his eyes drifting over me as we trudged forward. His worry emanated from him like a wave of magnetic energy. He pulled me closer as we descended into the long, dark tunnel. The shadows eased the pressure that had been building behind my eyes, and his touch helped dull the pain in my torso. My head, however, was pulsing with every frantic beat of my heart. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, my thoughts slowly began to drift to my father.
He had been quiet for so long that I had started to grieve for him all over again. But he was still with me. I had heard his voice, urging me to fight—telling me to keep going. It didn’t matter if he was a figment of my addled brain, knowing he was close by meant everything.
“Dad.” I breathed.
“Hey, stay with me,” Zander said his hand brushing my jawline.
“I’m here,” I said softly, shaking the fog from my head.
“I see a light,” Riley squeezed my arm tight and craned to see past the bodies ahead of us. “Liv, there’s literally a light at the end of the tunnel. Oh, thank God.”
Her grip on my arm loosened and her breathing began to slow. A few hundred yards later, we came upon a small lantern hanging from a hook on one of the pipes in the ceiling. Tessa batted it with her fingertips as she sauntered past it. The lantern swung creating menacing shadows that danced and flitted around us.
“This is your captain speaking.” Tessa’s voice echoed back down the tunnel with mock cheerfulness. “We are now beginning our final descent. Please place your seat backs and tray tables in the upright and locked positions. The weather here in Hell is a balmy one hundred and twenty-two degrees, with an earth-shattering storm looming overhead.”
“You have no idea,” Jake groaned under his breath.
Tessa tapped the butt of her flashlight three times on a pipe at the right side of the tunnel and smiled back at the rest of us. A moment later, the corridor filled with the grinding sound of metal on metal and a soft white glow. I lowered my gaze and shielded my eyes from the light that poured in around us.
“We truly hope you have enjoyed your trip. On behalf of airport security and the last vestiges of the human race, we would like to thank you for choosing apocalypse airlines.” Tessa spun on us, her arms wide as she stepped out o
f the tunnel. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Carousel F.”
Chapter 24
Stained
“Close it up,” Tessa said to the man standing next to the hatch. “Did that idiot, Doyle, already make it back?”
“Came through about ten minutes ago,” he said, his dark eyes fixed on Zander’s blackened hand as we passed by. “Thought you were going on a med run, Tessa. What’s with the strays?”
“Easy, Mason. They saved our asses back there against a herd of lurkers. They’re cool,” Tessa said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Now, where’s my boy?”
“Tee-tee!” A lilting, bubbly giggle bounced through the dimly lit room. “Tee-tee back.”
“Caleb, wait,” the dark haired man hissed, stepping in front of Zander and me.
Tiny, bare feet padded quickly against slick vinyl tiles. The pattering echoed around us like fingertips on a base drum. A toddler with a full head of mousy-brown ringlets appeared out of nowhere. He wrapped his tiny arms around Tessa’s legs, planted his little feet onto her boots, and smiled over at me. Tessa picked him up and held him close to her chest.
“Pwitty,” he said pointing in my direction. The boy couldn’t have been more than three years old, but there was an odd sort of wisdom in his bright green eyes; an old soul my mom would have said. “Bwoo. Bwoo wike mommy.”
“That’s right, buddy. She has blue eyes, just like your mommy.” Tessa’s voice hitched. She hugged Caleb tightly, then set him gently on the floor and nodded at the dark-haired man. “Bolt it for me, please, Mason.”
“Got it,” Mason nodded. He eyed us cautiously and held his hand out in front of him. “Come here, Weeman.”
“Puppy!” Caleb squealed rushing toward us. “Puppy, puppy!”
“Caleb, no!” Mason lunged toward the child, but the boy was too fast.
He ducked beneath his father’s arms and made a beeline straight for Bella. The poor dog barely had time to brace for impact before Caleb launched himself at her. Bella yelped, and the two of them toppled to the ground in a tangle of curls and fur. The boy raked frantically at her face and neck, shoving his hands in her mouth and tugging on her ears. Bella flopped awkwardly beneath him trying to right herself. Caleb shrieked, and Mason was there in the blink of an eye, a small handgun pointed straight at Bella.
“Don’t,” Tessa stepped in front of him, her hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun.
Bella lay on the ground, her legs splayed out around her like a tripod. Caleb was straddling her like a pony at a petting zoo, his little fingers grasping the scruff of her neck tightly. He dove forward, buried his face in her fur, and flopped over next to her. He pinned her one front paw against the hard floor. Bella didn’t panic. She simply nudged the boy with her nose until he rolled off her foot. She rose to her feet and stood over him her mouth open wide.
Mason shoved Tessa out of the way, but it was too late. Bella’s mouth was already on the child. She smothered him with slobbery dog kisses.
“My puppy,” Caleb giggled. He hugged Bella around her neck while she continued to lap at his cheeks.
Mason’s face collapsed in relief, and he lowered the weapon, quickly stowing it in the back of his belt. He raked his hands through his dark hair and released a shaky breath. He watched his son and my three-legged friend roll around for a few more seconds and then rubbed his eyes with the kind of exasperation only a parent can truly understand.
“Come on, Caleb,” Mason said, carefully peeling his son away from Bella. “How about you let the puppy rest for a bit and come and help daddy, okay? I’ll even let you hold the screw gun, this time.”
“I skwoo, Daddy. I skwoo!” Caleb shouted, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes, Caleb,” Mason smiled down at him. The tightness in his features softened when the boy wrapped his fingers around his pinky. “You can put in one screw, deal?”
“Fwee,” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his chin.
“One,” Mason said firmly.
“Four,” Caleb countered.
“Fine,” his father sighed, as he toted him away. “Two screws, but that’s it.”
Caleb’s curls bounced with his every scampered step. He and his father headed toward the hatch. They stopped when they reached the big, red toolbox that lay next to the end of the tunnel. As soon as Mason turned his back to sift through it, Caleb turned toward us and patted his little legs.
Bella licked my hand and barked softly, then trotted off to the boy’s side. By the time Mason had turned back around, there were two sets of eyes of them staring up at him. He put one hand on his hip and frowned down at them, but it didn’t hold. With another heavy sigh, Mason surrendered. He shook his head and smiled down at Caleb.
“You are definitely your mother’s son,” Mason laughed. He tussled the boy’s curls, then patted Bella’s head, and set to work fastening a large metal plate in place over the closed hatch door.
“Collin, Devon,” Tessa whistled sharply. “Help these poor boys with Ballard.”
“Victor!” A redheaded girl shrieked as she sprinted over. “What the hell happened out there, Tessa?”
“Lurkers happened,” Tessa grumbled. “Is Squints around?”
“I’m sure he’s creeping around here somewhere,” the girl said, staring at Ballard over Tessa’s shoulder. “Is Victor okay?”
An odd-looking man wearing nothing but a battered, tan trench coat and a pair of navy blue sweats shuffled over from the shadows to our left. His sandy colored hair hung in a halo of what looked to be unintended dreadlocks. The matted strands parted across his forehead to reveal the thickest coke-bottle eyeglasses I had ever seen. He dug frantically at the thick wiry stubble that covered his face and eyed the lot of us.
When his oddly magnified beady eyes landed on Zander and me, he cocked his head to the side and took a step toward us. Zander shifted his weight forward reflexively and growled low in his chest. With a curt nod and a grunt, Squints turned his back on us. Either we had passed some kind of test or we no longer mattered.
“Ehh,” he grunted pointing to the shotgun still slung over Tessa’s shoulder. “Mmmm.”
“I know. I know.” Tessa shook her head as she laid the shotgun in his dirty hands. “Believe me; that wasn’t my intent when I liberated it from the shop. Pretty sure it’s garbage now, Squints, but have a look at it anyway, okay? See if you can work your magic.”
The man nodded stiffly and shuffled off. He moved slowly, cradling Tessa’s battered weapon against his chest as if it were a newborn baby.
The other men helped Ty and Jake lay the injured young man across a bank of armless plastic chairs. There was a flurry of activity as people rushed about trying to assess the man’s injuries. Ty and Jake quickly separated themselves from the melee and joined us on the opposite side of the makeshift sickbed.
“Lurkers did this? But how? How is that possible? You cleared the tunnels days ago.” She clutched at her throat. “Tessa. Was he—is he?”
“Calm down, Tamsen,” Tessa shot her a sideways glance. “He wasn’t bitten. Just a bit banged up.”
“Thank God,” Tamsen sighed. Her hand slid down as if to protect her heart. “I don’t think I can go through that ag—.”
“Where’s Doyle?” Tessa growled cutting her off.
“Last time I saw him, he was headed to the unisex washroom,” Tamsen said, her eyes landing on me as if I had suddenly appeared. “Who are these people?”
“Friends,” Tessa said. “Tamsen, sweetheart, Collin is going to need an extra set of hands, okay? Why don’t you head over and see if you can help with Ballard, yeah?”
“But, I—.” Tamsen took a step back. “Tessa, what if he’s sick.”
“I swear to you, he was not bitten,” Tessa said grabbing both of Tamsen’s hands in hers. “Now, please go and help Collin. Devon is a good kid, but he definitely doesn’t have your bedside manner.”
“Okay,” Tamsen sighed. Tessa nodded and gave the girl a lit
tle push. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, smoothing her red hair into a ponytail as she made her way over to help.
“Sweet kid, but she’s too soft.” Tessa shook her head and smiled after the girl. “Adorable little fobbit.”
“Fobbit?” I asked, side-eying Zander when he chuckled.
“It’s not a bad thing, really,” Tessa shrugged. “She isn’t exactly front line material, you know? Most people just aren’t wired for the messy stuff. It’s best they stay back and let people like me and you take care of that. Poor girl was a barista before all this. Never fired so much as a water pistol in her life. Makes one hell of a cup of coffee, though.”
“Don’t even,” Riley sighed. “I miss coffee.”
“You want a cup?” Tessa asked absently. She rubbed at her shoulders then rolled her head around until her neck cracked. “I think all we have is dark roast, but—.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Riley dropped her bag to the floor and stepped forward. “If this is some kind of sick, twisted…don’t you dare joke about coffee.”
Tessa’s eyes twinkled in the dim light and the harsh lines that had settled around them softened. “I would never joke about something as serious as coffee, honey.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Riley lunged at Tessa and wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck. “You are an angel.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Tessa patted Riley’s back awkwardly and shot me a questioning glance. “How about I show you all around, get you patched up, and set you up with some grub?”
“And coffee,” Riley added, finally releasing Tessa from her vice-like embrace.
“Yes, and coffee,” Tessa laughed softly and squeezed Riley’s shoulders. “Come with me.”
“Right behind you,” I said nodding to the others.
Zander’s hand was again at my hip, steadying me as we made our way through the dimly lit area. Ty reached for Christa’s hand, but she jerked from his grasp. She flipped him off, tossed her long braid over her shoulder, and stalked off to walk with Eli. Falisha nudged Jake, and the two of them flanked the sulking cowboy, consoling him as we followed Tessa’s retreating form.
Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two Page 21