“Maybe we should trade them the gun?” I said, as we made way to the subway tracks.
“Nah, better we keep it. Never know when flashing a big gun can come in handy.”
I noticed the man who stood behind the counter staring right at me, inspecting me and taking note of where we were going. No doubt he would pass that information down to somebody.
We put the platform behind us and were swallowed by the darkness of the tunnels. We had to take the cathedral by cover of night. We still had hours of daylight left, so we decided it would be best to camp out somewhere and get some rest. The farther and farther we walked, the more Dodger coughed and fell behind. Twice he caught himself tripping over his own feet. The generator power bulbs illuminated the tunnels in a weak light, so I could see his eyes were beginning to turn a light shade of red, and his eyelids were puffy as though he hadn’t slept in ages. His health I could attribute to the virus, but the somber attitude and extended periods of silence were troubling. I noticed the shaking in his hands, and I decided to make camp.
We sat on blankets, spread around the warmth of a small fire. Shadows flickered against the tunnel’s moist walls and rats scurried about. The molded wood radiated a pungent smell, but we were used to worse. Being underground was cozy, compared to the vast alternative of the topside. We could easily cover our bases, our backs toward the wall, me keeping watch down the left and Dodger to the right. We were safe, and at home.
“Hey,” he said. “You think Red will sleep with me after we help her kid?”
Something in me snapped. I couldn’t tell you what or why, but that seemed to be the last straw. It wasn’t uncommon for him to make foolish remarks, but the jealousy of the previous night still ran hot through my mind. I needed little excuse to lash out.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, more angrily than merited.
“What? It’s an honest question. I mean we are really sticking out necks out for her.”
“That’s really messed up, man! It’s like that’s all you care about, who you can sleep with next, and when’s the next time you can do something royally stupid. Why don’t you ever take anything seriously? Why don’t you, I don’t know, act like you care about somebody for once!”
“Really, man? I do care about people.”
“Like who? Red? Would you, if she wasn’t hot? What about her daughter? Basically, you’re saying you wouldn’t lift a finger, if there wasn’t a possibility that helping her would mean you get laid. You don’t care about anybody but yourself―”
“I care about you, you idiot! Why are you digging into me all a sudden, what did I do to you?” His agitation brought on a fit of coughing. Wiping spit from his mouth, he continued, “You been on my case all day. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.” My heart felt heavy at his declaration. Here I was being so angry at him. Over what? A girl? Over my own insecurities? When he had been the best friend I’d ever had? “It’s just… sometimes you come off as so heartless. It’s hard to tell what’s an act or real with you, man.”
“Does it really matter? Look at us!” He indicated the tunnel around us, and, as homey as it had earlier appeared to me, the way he addressed it made it seem like just that, a tunnel. Dark, dingy, and unsanitary. We were living in squalor, rolling around in the mud like pigs and enjoying it. Well, were we? Or had we just learned to grow complacent with our way of life? Do pigs really know their lives suck?
“Is there a point trying to live in reality, Twist? I mean, really, is there? What good do we have, the simple little things here and there, so why not? If getting laid is on the table, I’m going to take it. I’ll take that over starving in an underground den where no one will ever find my dead body. I care about you, and that’s all that matters. I don’t need anyone else. The more people you let in here”―he fist-bumped my chest, where my heart beat―“the more chance you get screwed. You and I are like peas in a pod, and we’d never screw each other over, because we are brothers. So who cares how I treat other people?”
“Okay, man, I’m sorry to be a mega jerk, but you just got to be careful what you say. I mean you can’t march into camp and demand sex for saving her daughter.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
He sighed in defeat. “Yeah, girls always gotta make things complicated.”
“Plus, Gia would flip her lid!”
“Why would she care?”
“‘Cause you just disgraced her last night.”
“Oh, no way, man. You cock blocked me big time. She spent the whole time talking about you, and how I need to take it easy on you.” Once again my heart leapt into action, but it was a mix of emotion. He was claiming he didn’t sleep with her. Not only that, but she spent her time talking about me! However, it was a double-edged sword. Why did she feel he had to take it easy on me? Did she think I was weak?
“Why? Why would she say that?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You just spent the last ten grilling me for being a jerk. She said you’re an honest-to-god good guy. And that’s rare in this world of ours. That I shouldn’t spend so much time corrupting you. Told her I don’t corrupt you, I look out for you. She wasn’t having it. Next thing you know, Red is carrying you in on her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. And, now, both of them are fawning over you. Red marched off, and, with Gia acting like mom of the year, I decided to clear things up with her.”
“Wow, I didn’t know.” The elation I felt that Gia would choose me over him, regardless the situation, was better than any high a doser could produce. I wanted to ask more questions, but I didn’t want to lead on to my obvious infatuation. So I played it cool. “That was nice of her. Guess she’s not so stuck up, after all?”
“Who cares? We are ditching her as soon as we get a chance. I’d keep her around if she’d sleep with me, but I probably have a better shot at Red after last night.”
“Seriously, man?”
“Yeah, we don’t need her.”
“She’s part of our team now! We can’t just ditch her cause of your stupidity!”
“Part of our team? Are you kidding me? Our team is you and I. I have enough on my hand watching out for you!”
My anger returned with a piqued vengeance. His willingness to use Gia or abandon her was bothersome enough. But the fact he clearly believed I needed looking after only refueled my fire. “I don’t need any looking after!”
“Sure, you don’t.” He patted my back in a condescending manner. “You proved that last night, didn’t ya?”
“Screw you, man!” I jumped to my feet, looking down at him in contempt, the same way he and everyone else had surely looked down at me all these years, as if I were something less than what I was. “I don’t need you or anyone else to take care or look out for me. I can do fine on my own!”
“Calm down.” His look of confusion was masked by a fit of coughing and wheezing breath. “I’m just messin’.”
“Well, I’m tired of it. Why’d Red bring me to your tent when I got sick?”
“I don’t know. Common sense?”
“I’m not a little kid. I’m sick of people thinking I’m your lap dog.”
“I don’t think that, I told you who cares what―”
“I do!”
He didn’t respond. He just stared up at me, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them close and resting his chin. He sighed heavily until a wheeze escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, man. I never meant to make you feel like crap. You’re the only family I have. Why would you think I want you to feel like that?” His voice was so defeated, so deflated, I hated myself for reducing him to that. Why had I so easily turned on him? Was it really over a girl? Really? Or was it something within me, something deeper? Did I think maybe I was below him?
“Just leave it,” I said, lying back down on my blanket, staring at the flickering flames as they danced around to a silent tune.
“I―” He broke off into another coughing fit. I turned around, facing the wall, and closed my eyes in an atte
mpt to sleep and end the awkwardness of the fight I had started but couldn’t finish. I could feel him staring at me, though; he did for some time, before I heard the shift of his body lay down.
Dodger continued coughing in his sleep, tossing and turning, seemingly lost in a dream of no return. I examined his face by fire light. Beads of sweat formed at his forehead, and his dry lips were crusted with mucus. He was in a bad way. It kept getting worse. We needed to find Smith and get that cure quickly. He couldn’t go on like this, and I had something to prove, not only to Gia, Red, Dodger, and everyone else, but to myself. That’s why I packed up my things as he fought the demons of dream and scribbled out a letter on his ‘not a diary’ journal. I told him to stay at Red’s and I’d get the meds from The Sons of Adam. He needed rest, and I could do it alone. I didn’t need him to take care of me. He understood that, but I wasn’t so certain I did. This was my only way to prove it.
had to leg it as fast as I could, making as much tracks as possible between me and Dodger, before he woke up. I feared he would follow. My hope was he’d attempt to track me but realize I had already moved too far ahead and turn back. Even if he didn’t, I had every intention of making my way back by the time he got to the halfway point. I knew I could outrun him, even on his best of days.
I ran for what I believed was the better part of the night, sloshing through puddles and jumping over dead animals. I had no time for detours. I breezed through shanty towns before any of the inhabitants could think to question me. Houses built of garbage, broken timber, and other discarded things surrounded me as I descended deeper into the bowels of the Earth. Spray-painted signs warned of territories and spots of refuge. Children played in some areas, skin so pale I wondered if they had ever seen the top side. Adults scavenged and picked at debris; like the farmers of old who tended their crops, the people of the underworld tended to trash.
I stopped once, to gather my bearings. The underworld was a labyrinth of twists and turns, the darkness maddening, even with the occasional lights produced by haphazardly placed generators. We usually navigated this world sure-footed and carefully, taking note of station signs and arrows. I couldn’t afford that luxury. I took a sip of my water, and a dark-skinned man with soot covering his skeletal face crawled out from under a mountain of television boxes. “Who’s that there, trying to blow down my house?”
“What?” I put my bottle away; worried he would try and rob me.
“Ain’t nothin’ but little pigs here, right Leroy?”
I looked behind me and found no one there. “Um, my name is Twist.”
“Leroy says ‘you trying to blow my house down,’ ain’t that right Leroy?” He nodded his head, agreeing with the invisible Leroy.
“No, I was just passing through, headed that way actually.” I moved passed him, towards the towel. Before I could get far he jumped in front of me.
“Well hold up there, you can’t be going down there. That’s the way to hell! Leroy said it and I know it. He says ‘you best be getting on home’ and you don’t want to make Leroy mad.”
“Listen, I’m sure… Leroy means well, but I have to go—”
“Don’t you know, they ain’t nothing but devils in angel wings. The Christ child is long dead. Leroy said he seen it with his eyes.” He leaned close and whispered. “The only promised land is beyond the gates. That’s where Eden is!”
I took a step back, nervous he might attack me in a crazy fit. “Right, well thanks for that. But I have to go; it’s the only way I can save my friend.”
He looked at me with a ravaged madness, rubbing at wild bushes of hair. “Well I guess if I had to save old Leroy I would go there too. Ain’t nothing could stop me from helping Leroy.”
“So you understand… both, of you right? I have to go in order to save my friend. Oh before I forget, maybe you guys can use this.” I offered him my spare bottle of water. His eyes instantly became kind and welcoming.
He scooped up the bottle and took a long drink; water trickled down the side of his chin as he drank with ferocity. I started towards the tunnel again, he nodded and waved me off to engross with his prize.
Before I left I made sure to describe Dodger. “Just do whatever you have to do, to get him to turn back. He can’t follow me.” He agreed my path was the path to damnation, but even so, a friend was worth it.
I’d run for hours more before my stomach rumbled in determination, and my legs threatened to cramp. By then, I had already made it through countless tunnels, through moss-covered train cars, and scaled crumbled walls. Had the landscape been what it was in the old times, the journey wouldn’t have been so taxing. But as the world grew old and unattended, decomposition and degeneration created a gauntlet of uncertainty. I had to keep going uptown was all I knew. The station sign numbers grew higher, from 34th Street to 42nd Street, to 59th and 81st. I would get there soon. Just keep at it. There could be no chance for failure. Dodger would never let me live it down; my only hope was to return a victor.
At 110th Street, my legs were ready to give in. I emerged from the tunnel like a zombie, dirtied and exhausted, staggering, barely holding myself up. The slight hum of generators and light greeted me. This station was like no other, scrubbed clean, with white-tiled walls and gray flooring. I climbed up out of the tracks, rolling myself onto the platform. There I stayed for a bit, catching my breath, staring up at a light bulb, shining bright like a star. From my place of rest, I scanned the area. Stairs led topside, and inviting moonlight showered down.
The cathedral was three blocks away. I decided after I caught my breath I would take it topside, surveying the area to try to figure out the best way to sneak in. I took a deep breath and walked over to a polished bench and sat hard, dropping my bag, leaning my head against the wall. Breathe. I needed to breathe and find someplace out of the open to rest, but I passed out.
I don’t know how long I was unconscious; I was between sleep and wake before a harsh nudge to my shoulder woke me with a start. It took some time to regain full control of my eyes before I realized two men stood over me. They wore identical crimson robes, hoods pulled down low over their eyes. Still, their penetrating gaze bore into me.
The one who woke me must have done so with the slender sword he held pointed in my direction. Angels. They patrolled the Sons of Adam territory, all fanatics, following some sick perverse version of an old religion. They worshipped the Sons of Adam and did their bidding, uncaring of anything else. You couldn’t bargain with the devout. Fear swept through my body like a cold breeze. I had to think of something before these bearers of judgment sentenced me to something unpleasant.
“Uh, hi.” I tried to shake my legs awake. “I was hoping to run into some of you.”
“Were you now?” The one with the drawn sword poked at me. “Looks to me like you were squatting on our territory. Don’t it, Michael?”
“Sure does, David,” said the big brute with his arms crossed in a show of tight muscles.
“We don’t take kindly to people squatting on our turf,” said David.
“Or maybe we do,” said Michael.
“Why would that be, Michael?” David asked.
“More bones to break.” Michael snapped all the knuckles in his clenched fists.
“You haven’t broken any bones in a while,” David added. “Now ‘ave you?”
“Not since that last fella. Screamed like a girl, he did,” said Michael.
“Are you a screamer, boy?” asked David.
“No, wait. I―” I began.
“Says he’s not a squealer, can you believe it?” David asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Faster than I would have believed possible for such a brute, Michael was lifting me up by the collar of my shirt.
“Wait, wait,” I pleaded. “I came looking for you! I seek salvation.” Michael looked at me, then at David in confusion.
“Really? Is that so?” David asked.
“I need to repent for my sins.” I forced tears. It wasn’t th
at hard at this point. “So much sin, I… I need to find forgiveness. I was told I could find that here.”
“Sinner, you?” Michael asked. “Don’t look like much for sins.”
“No, trust me. You’d be surprised how much of a sinner I am. It’s just disgusting; it can’t even bear repeating it shames me so!” I pretended to break down in a fit of crying. The two stared at me in silence, a silence that lasted too long for my own comfort. I calculated the odds of me breaking free of Michael’s grip and escaping. I assure you, I saw no positive outcome, other than he would finally get to break some bones again.
“And you say you want to repent?” David frowned.
“As if it were my life’s goal!” I nodded with excitement.
David looked extremely disappointed. “‘Cause we can really go for a thrashing. It’s really been ah long time, in’it?”
“Real long.” Michael pulled me closer to his face, hot breath threatening to melt the skin from mine.
“And I apologize for that,” I tried my best to smile, “but where would you two be, if you weren’t given the same salvation which I stand… uhh, hang here asking for today?”
“Suppose you have a point, don’t you? Michael! Don’t be disrespectful, put him down.”
Michael set me back on my feet, fixing my collar and straightening out my shirt. “Sorry, wasn’t too rough with you, now was I? Some people deserve a good thrashing. You not so much. No disrespect meant.”
“None taken,” I straightened out my hoodie.
“Really. We do apologize for jumping to conclusions. Is there anything we could get you?” David asked.
“No, really, it’s fine,” I said.
“May we carry your bags?” David reached for my bag with eagerness..
I took a step back. “No, that isn’t―”
“No, no, we insist. We jumped to conclusions; it wasn’t right. Not one bit. To think a minute ago I was going to slice your head clean off while you slept. You see, these are habits we had from our past life. Before salvation. We gotta shake ‘em. We can’t just keep going around assuming it’s okay to murder―”
The Artful (Shadows of the City) Page 10