“Who were those guys?” Gia asked.
“What do you mean?” I was confused by her question. “You never saw Suits before? They run Manhattan.”
She hesitated for a moment, stumbling on her words. “I know that. I mean Stan in particular, jerk.”
“They were a pain in my ass.” Dodger surveyed the area. “We need to find Smith. He could be anywhere.”
A shadow fell upon the earth, and, for a moment, I thought the world had ended. And I was okay with that. It would have been peaceful, clearly more preferable than what followed. I gazed in amazement at the airship above us, one of the smaller models, unmanned, rumored to run by remote control―an Empire drone made for spying. A simple balloon, rudder, and undercarriage meant to hold equipment. Speakers hung low on the side. Would they follow us until we returned?
“Let’s get going. We should try the Runts and shake the eyes in the skies,” I said, indicating the hovering airship. “Peter might have something for you to take, might know something about what they injected you with.”
“The kid’s a genius, but there’s no way he can figure out what they put into me without actually seeing the stuff. But I agree they might be our best bet for information,” Dodger said.
“Who are the Runts?” Gia asked, trying to keep up behind us.
Dodger and I both looked at her in confusion.
“You don’t know much about what goes on out here, huh?” I asked.
“Yeah, you’re as dense at a Tower Baby.” Dodger said, knocking on her head for good measure.
“Shut it! I just have better things to do then play in your little clubs!”
“The Runts run Central Park. It’s usually not a safe place to go strolling, but we are tight with Peter, he’s their fearless leader. He’s kinda a kid prodigy, grew up in a library, and knows mostly everything there is to know.” I looked at Dodge. “Hopefully, he knows what they stuck Dodge with.”
Central Park was a journey made in silence. Dodger was keeping to himself, probably on the verge of panicking. Gia walked alongside me, lost in her own thoughts. She would glance at Dodger time and time again, unsteady looks of curiosity. I wondered what it was about him that was so appealing to her.
It sent waves of jealousy through me. I wanted her to look at me like that. I wanted to be the mysterious enigma who rattled her with questions.
Dodger was always so good with the girls… well, no, he wasn’t good at all with them. But, coincidentally, that’s what worked. His inability to filter, saying the first thing that came to mind, no matter how offensive, was no different than honey to a bee when it came to the ladies. Me, on the other hand, I always found myself fumbling over words and fighting back terror when it came to talking to girls
The shadows of night crept about, promising cool air and comfort. As the weather became more friendly, we began seeing more people about. They were scavengers, hobbling from one broken corner to the next, like rats trying to find anything to nibble, or something that could be bartered for food. A girl with matted blonde hair and a ragged teddy bear stood at a street corner staring at us, her limbs emaciated, as her mother dug through a pile of garbage. Spooky, the way she tracked us, as if she were curious what we tasted like. She was a ghost of a child, not unlike most of the children we were used to seeing. Those born after the fall who couldn’t afford a life in the towers. They had never experienced true joy. They were born to a world of hopelessness, and had no choice but to believe this was all life ever was.
Central Park had become a savage jungle that housed ferocious things. It didn’t help that shortly after the virus wiped everyone out, inhabitants of the Central Park Zoo got loose. I warned Gia to stay close and not wander off the path. She shrugged, oblivious to the danger. We weren’t here for a picnic; we were walking through a safari. The foliage long since abandoned by human care had grown to monstrous proportions. A small child could get lost within the overgrown ferns and rain-moistened grass. Worse still, predators could find concealment until it was too late. Sounds of scurrying steps and scratching paws echoed in the distance, birds battling, bugs humming. Twice I had to smack away spiders from my arm and crush mosquitoes on my face.
Dodger cut through the overgrown greenery, making his way to a long abandoned road of graying cobblestone, cracked with age. Beams of moonlight shone down through the sheltering trees. We padded down the road. I felt dwarfed and disoriented. It all seemed the same, an endless avenue leading into darkness.
“Twist!” Dodger startled me, punching my shoulder to get my attention. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah, fine.” I avoided his and Gia’s eyes.
They both shared the same look of worry, which made me feel weak. As if I was one to be worried over. How could I let this stupid park shake my nerves? It was just a park.
“Did you hear that?” Gia spun in place, surveying the area.
“I heard Twist’s balls fall on the ground. Other than that, no, I didn’t hear anything, did you hear his balls drop?” Dodge asked.
“Shut up for a second!” She stopped, focused on an area that led deep within, a path eaten away at either side by the giant trees, which crept up from the ground like the hungry fingers of an ancient evil. The branches arched and interlocked together, creating what appeared to be an eerie tunnel into unknown territory.
“Come on,” I said. “We shouldn’t wander off the road.”
“No, listen, there it is again,” she said.
“I didn’t hear―”
“Yeah, I heard it.” Dodger’s confirmation made my palms sweat. This wouldn’t lead to anything good. I listened, creeping in the direction the sound seemingly came from. And, there, I heard it at the tip of perception, barely enough to fully register. A cry, a wretched shrill of a scream. I knew before Dodger started running that this wouldn’t end well. Before I could protest, Gia took off after him into the depths of Central Park.
The cries grew louder as we ran through the thicket of trees and foliage. More than once I slipped in mud or caught my leg on a root. Dodger legged it like a pro, and Gia followed swiftly behind. Normally this would have been a situation where I could have outrun both, but something didn’t sit right, and I had no problem falling behind. The gleaming light of the evening sky shone clearly down on a clearing up ahead. “Help!” The cry was ahead of us, and my stomach turned in knots. Just before Dodger made it into the clearing, I heard a large snap.
“Crap!” Dodger yelled, holding up a hand, indicating we stop.
“What is it?” I asked, coming up close to Gia.
He pointed down to his feet. “Sprung a trap…” His foot stood on top of a thin thread. I tried following where it led, but it was lost in bushes I was too cautious to explore just yet.
“Idiot, I told you to leave it!” I said.
“What do we do?” Gia asked, inching closer to Dodge. I held her steady, warning her there might be other traps about.
“Back up some, will you two?” Dodger asked.
We slowly did, inspecting each place we set foot. The area grew increasingly silent. As we ran through the park, we had heard a constant hum of noise―animals, bugs, and the marching of our steps. Now everything was quiet.
“I think I might be able―”
Before Dodger could finish his thought, a small boy appeared in the opening. He couldn’t have been any more than ten. He was filthy with matted-down hair, his skin was covered in a mix of green and brown paints, no doubt meant as camouflage. He wore a pair of tattered shorts and a Kiss T-shirt, both his clothes and feet were covered in mud. Despite his appearance, there was an air of confidence about him uncommon in children. He stood tall with pride with a feral smirk. He had a wicked spear strapped to his back and tossed a huge rock back and forth from hand to hand. We were in his yard, and he knew it. He held up his rock and cocked his arm, aiming at Dodger, who held up his hands.
“Whoa, whoa there, little guy.”
He let the rock fly, knocking Dodger in the
head, pushing him back off the rope trigger he held in place. A series of swooshes went back and forth through the trees, and, before we had time to register what was happening, a roped net fell from above. Large rocks were tied at four cornered ends, pinning Dodger to the ground. Ropes dropped from the heights of the trees, and other small children dressed the same fashion came swinging down. Two more from the opening came to stand at either side of Kiss T-shirt. In an instant, we were surrounded by a bunch of candy bandits. I instinctively pulled Gia close and held up my hands as they aimed small spears and rocks at us. Whether it was in a valiant effort to protect her or a cowardly attempt at shielding myself, I’ll never tell.
A little girl, maybe eight, stared stone-faced at me. Her yellow dress was covered in soot, and the one-eyed teddy bear hanging from her belt did little to diminish the fact that she aimed a rather sharp knife in my general direction. Even so, she seemed to be the least threatening of the four who closed in on Gia and me. The two boys behind us resembled twins; similar facial features, except the one wielding the machete had missing teeth, which didn’t stop him from smiling mischievously. Another boy closer to Gia seemed to be more interested in her breasts. He licked his lips and caressed the rocks he held at his sides, his eyes wide and hungry. I guessed he was the oldest of the bunch.
“What the hell is this?” Dodger said, struggling to find his bearings. “We’re here to see Peter. He’s gonna be pissed if he knows you’re treating his good pal Dodger like this.”
Kiss T-shirt stepped forward. The two boys flanking him held their spears at ready. “Friends of Peter ain’t friends of us.”
“Ones of ‘em, tons of us!” all the children chanted.
“Listen, playtime’s over!” Dodger started to stand, but the boy quickly pelted him with another rock. “You little brat!” he shouted, rubbing his head where the rock hit.
“Calm it, Dodge, we can straighten this out.” I smiled at the little girl, who growled in return. “We came to speak to Peter. He knows us. Where is he?”
“Peter thinks he knows all the knowing,” Kiss T-shirt said. “Speaks the knowing, and expects the follow. But we know the knowing, too. Here’s the Runts. Ones of ‘em, tons of us!”
The others followed in his chant.
“Do you brats ever speak like normal people?” Another rock struck Dodger in the head. “I will kill you!”
“Peter wants to leg it, split the family with his knowing.”
“Leg it where?” I asked.
Dodger rubbed his head, sitting in defeat under the weight of the net. “Is he gone?”
“No,” the boy said, smiling. “Tried it, but I took the charge, sniped him at the runnin.’ Now ‘em knows the cage. And I’m the one with the knowin’. Them’s the sheep, and I’m the one’s in charge!” He brandished his ornate spear with a feathered tip. The one Peter used to carry around. It wasn’t a weapon; it was a symbol of authority.
“Ones of ‘em, tons of us!” they all started chanting again, this time closing in on us. They were children, but the look of murder apparently had no preference for age. Gia backed into me; I felt the warmth of her sweat on my shoulder. I put my arm around her, determined to use her as a shield if I had to. I looked over at Dodger, who crab-legged it back, struggling with the net.
“Twist?” he yelled as Kiss T-shirt knelt down in front of him. “Time for Plan B!”
“What’s that?” Gia asked.
“But―” I desperately looked around and fought back the guilt of potentially abandoning Dodger.
“Plan B!” Dodger yelled.
Right, then. The path of least resistance. I looked over at the little girl and took Gia by the hand, waiting for an opportunity. Adrenaline was running through my body like searing electricity. Waiting, waiting, it was a dangerous game. If I waited too long, it would be too late. Something had to happen.
“Now!” Dodger yelled, as he leapt up from the ground, net and all, tackling the boy. They both struggled tossing back and forth for an instant, all the children looked to their leader. Without giving it a second thought, I brought my foot up, all ten and a quarter inches of it, and planted it square in the little girl’s chest. I put all my weight behind the blow, yet I was still surprised when she flew clean off her feet and landed with a scream some feet away. Holding each other’s hands, Gia and I ran off into the thicket, rocks gliding past us just a hair’s throw away from crushing our skulls. The hooting and hollering of the children as they gave chase sounded like a pack of wild monkeys.
“Oh, my god, Twist!” Gia yelled.
“What, are you hurt?” I said.
“No, that was a little girl!!” said Gia.
I looked back at Gia, meaning to apologize, when a spear landed hard in the tree next to us.
“Screw her! RUN!” I screamed as I dragged Gia along.
e ran through the park careless of the direction or obstacles in our paths. We were being hunted. I felt foolish with the realization that we weren’t even being hunted by anything worth boasting about. With a gang of wild children on our heels, we pathetically sought shelter, some place where we could hide and regroup. If they hadn’t caught Dodger, he would have never let me live that down. Branches cut at my legs, and Gia’s curses made me believe she was in just as much discomfort.
Where should we go? I have to get us out of here.
We ran so wildly I wasn’t able to gain my bearings. For all I knew, we could have been heading deeper into the park or back out the way we came. But I couldn’t stop; the hooting and howls of children grew louder with every step. We couldn’t shake them; eventually we would have to confront them in their own backyard. I glanced up at the moon, hoping to figure out where we were Foolish idea. My foot caught on a root, causing me to stumble headfirst into a thorny bush. Gia skidded to a halt, trying to pick her way to me through the branches. The children came into view as she pulled at my arm.
“Run…” I whispered, hoping to show at least some sign of courage.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t! But this is just ridiculous!” She turned around, standing over me, like a brave warrior protecting the damsel in distress.
“Whoop, whoop, whoop!” the kids yelled, brandishing their makeshift weapons, trying to intimidate.
“No!” Gia yelled.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“This is so dumb!”
The leader marched forward, holding his spear, and all the other kids quieted down. He wore a smile and crooked teeth. “Prisoners for the take.”
Gia marched over to him and stood sternly. “NO!” She smacked him across the face. The sound of her palm making full contact with his cheek echoed throughout the park. All fell deathly silent, waiting for the next moment to come; time dragged. The boy seemed to be frozen in shock, his bottom lip quivering and small fingers tightly clenching the spear at his side.
“Bad!” Gia yelled, pointing an accusing finger in his face.
“Gia,” I said, standing up. “Don’t… do anything… else.”
She tore the boy’s spear from his hand. He threw up his fist, meaning to strike her, but she caught his arm instead, turning him sideways and lashing him across the back of his legs with the spear. She hit him five times before he started crying. Screaming like a wild animal, he tried to rip away from her. I think he would have eventually gnawed off his arm to get free. The other children watched in confusion. The Runts were much like wolves. They had a leader they would follow blindly to death. But if said leader was challenged and defeated, they were lost. She let the wailing child go. He dropped to the ground, rubbing at his legs, staring at her in scorn. Tears smeared the mud already running on his face. She threw the spear at him, yelling, “NO!” one more time for good measure.
I ran over and retrieved the spear before he came to his senses. “Here, you better hold on to it.” She took it as the circle of kids grew tighter around us.
“Bad. Bad. Bad!” they chanted. “No. No. No!” They began laughing and pointi
ng at their fallen leader. He unceremoniously climbed to his feet and ran off crying. The children screamed louder, “No. No! Bad. Bad!” They broke off into a ruckus of laughter in his wake.
“What’s going on?” Gia asked.
“I think you just became their new leader.”
The Runts led us back to their camp, their disposition greatly changed. Singing songs and skipping alongside us, the little girl whose chest I kicked in earlier cuddled her teddy bear and stared at Gia in admiration. She had a limp. I’d rather not talk about it.
“What’s going to happen now?” Gia whispered.
“I don’t know. When we get back to their camp, they will probably tell the others you’re the new Alpha. If no one challenges you, we are good.”
“What about Dodger? Do you think they killed him?”
“No, the leader went after us. They don’t make those kinds of decisions without him. He’s probably being held prisoner. He has to be. With you as Alpha we can free him, find out what they did with Peter, and get the hell out of here.”
“Do we have to free him?” She smiled at me, a hint of humor. That was all it took for her to settle my nerves.
The cave’s shadows ate away at the light with a hunger. I shivered as a chill wind swept up around us from the outside. Some blankets lay humbly in one corner, no doubt doubling for beds. Pots and pans lay abandoned here and there, giving the impression this cave’s tenants lived in just that, a cave.
“Hey, guys!” Dodger was sitting on a crate, surrounded by four small children, a fire lightly dancing between them. “Just in time, I was about to tell the story of how I once again saved the day!” The kids all stared at him.
“But I was worried sick. We were coming to rescue you!” I couldn’t believe it. He had landed on his feet once again.
The Artful (Shadows of the City) Page 5