Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

by William Bernhardt

  “So many people have gone missing around here. I see why they say this place is radioactive.”

  “Yeah,” I answered. Lights from the city surrounded us, though only a few illuminated the field. We stumbled over empty beer cans and broken glass. Not much remained of the stadium. A discarded seat, ripped from its base, lay not far away. A huge, broken letter Y lay a few feet from that. It looked as though the earth had swallowed up the ballpark. Reporters said there had been an explosion, but I saw no evidence of that.

  “It doesn’t make sense how so many people could go missing out here and no one wonder about it,” Lillie said as she kicked aside an empty keg.

  “I guess that’s how the radiation rumors got started.”

  “There must be an underground entrance somewhere. You see anything?”

  I scanned the area. Having Shine night-vision ability would come in handy right now. “Nothing.”

  “Keep looking.”

  A choppercar soared overhead, its spotlight focused over the Hudson River. Horns blared from the tugboats crossing the water. Mosquitoes buzzed in my ears. I crossed the field twice looking for signs of a rogue gang but found nothing.

  “Over here,” Lillie called from the edge of the field. I trudged through the ankle-high weeds as I made my way toward her. The burning stink of sour beer thickened the air as I stopped next to my sister. She stood over a slab of concrete the size and height of a dinner table. Metal rivets clung to the edges, and jagged rusty wires peeked from the top, as if the god of thunder had hurled it from the sky.

  Lillie kicked a pile of beer cans out of the way. “Look under here,” she said as she knelt by the block.

  I crouched beside her. She clicked her wrist phone and a light shone from its screen. The block was hollowed underneath, resembling a cave. I studied the tunneled-out hole. More beer cans littered the area beneath. It looked as if we weren’t the first to discover this place. Lillie ran her fingers along the hollowed-out walls, then crawled under.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Hold on.” She pulled her knife from her pocket. The silver blade gleamed faintly in the muted light. She stabbed it under the rock. I expected to hear the grating sound of metal against stone. Instead I heard a tiny click.

  “Hidden lever,” she said, as if that explained it. More clicks followed the first. I recognized the muffled sound of a chain running through a hoist. A shard of silver light peeked from the ground, illuminating a manhole cover I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Congratulations,” I said. “You found a sewer.”

  “Shut up.”

  “How did you know to look under here?”

  “The beer cans. It seemed like a crappy place to get drunk.”

  “So you figured someone must’ve been under here for another reason?”

  “Exactly. I’ve seen this before. The Masons had a lair like this where they hid their drugs.” She knocked on the manhole cover. It didn’t clang as I would have expected, but made a softer sound, as if it were made of plastic. “It’s fake. This whole set-up is a disguised doorway. This isn’t a sewer.”

  Lillie stuck her knife into the keyhole, then pried the cover off. Beneath the cover, we found a dark hole.

  I crawled beside Lillie to inspect the hole. Dirt clung to my bare palms and fingernails as I stared into the tunnel.

  A rusted ladder suspended on a chain led into the shaft. Tubular lights, the kind you’d see in the subway, shone from niches in slick stone walls.

  Stagnant air wafted out. “You think the girl is down there?” I asked.

  “One way to find out.” She grabbed the top rung and lowered herself onto the ladder. After she climbed a few rungs down, I grasped the metal bar and followed.

  Cold rungs chilled my hands and fingertips. I heard the thump of Lillie’s steel-toed Doc Martens as she hit bottom. The lights flickered with a buzzing sound as I neared the ground. Rust clung to my sweaty palms. I reached the bottom and stepped off the ladder.

  The low-ceilinged tunnel sloped downward. A cloying stench of damp stone and mortar clung to the walls.

  “Let’s head down,” Lillie said. We splashed through puddles of murky water. I’d been raised on a farm. My boots had been in a lot of crap, so the foul-smelling sludge shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did. At least I knew where cow manure came from.

  Pools of harsh orange light shone from the fixtures, illuminating the tunnel as it circled downward. I realized the tunnel must’ve been built like a corkscrew. We walked until I felt we should have reached the center of the earth. I almost suggested we turn back when the tunnel ended.

  We stopped at a jagged overhang. As we neared the edge, I felt a warm gush of fresh air emanate from the opening ahead. I peered over the edge of a canyon.

  A dizzying drop of maybe three hundred feet spanned below. My mouth gaped. I wasn’t expecting this.

  Surrounded by a vast sea of stone, Yankees Stadium—complete with a green playing field, bleachers, and the tiny pitcher’s mound—rested at the bottom of the chasm.

  “You see that too?” Lillie asked.

  “Yeah. Guess that was one hell of an explosion.”

  “Explosion my ass. There’s no way any blast could have done this.”

  “How do you think it happened?”

  “No idea.”

  I gazed around the edges of the gorge and found a staircase carved along the wall leading from the top of the chasm to the ground. Water trickled down the steps, coating them in thick slime. The bottom stair rested a few hundred yards away from home plate.

  “You think the Xeros know we’re here?” I asked.

  “No, they would’ve caught us already.”

  “Good point.”

  “Let’s go. Just keep quiet,” Lillie said.

  “Me? You’re the one always gabbing.”

  She smirked. “Runs in the family.”

  The staircase was narrower than it looked. One missed step and we’d be splattered all over Yankee field. I focused on the back of Lillie’s t-shirt—the silk-screened, fog-wrapped skull. It was better than looking down. Don’t judge me. I’m not a fan of heights. And these boots weren’t made for climbing.

  Except for the sound of our footsteps, the grotto remained eerily quiet. I ran my hand along the edge of the wall to keep my balance. Whoever made this staircase didn’t seem concerned for building codes or safety hazards. The steps were slippery and uneven, some the width of my foot, some sloped at an awkward angle. It took all my concentration to keep from falling.

  Lillie stumbled in front of me. I gripped the wall as I fell forward. I caught the back of her shirt before she toppled. We teetered on the stairs. A handful of pebbles dislodged from the stone steps and plummeted to the bottom. They landed with a loud clatter and echoed through the chamber.

  I winced.

  After the echoes died away, I let go of Lillie’s t-shirt. “You okay?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Yeah.”

  I glanced to the bottom of the stairs. We’d made it more than halfway. “Let’s make it to the bottom before we become permanent decorations on Yankee field.”

  Lillie nodded, then continued down. The thought struck me that getting into this place would be a heck of a lot easier than getting out. I assumed whoever built the stairway had that in mind. We’d be sitting ducks to anyone trying to catch us as we escaped up these stairs. I made a mental note for future reference. Don’t use the stairs to escape. Find another way out.

  But if I’d made this place to keep people in, I would’ve made sure there was only one heavily guarded way out.

  “We should try to find another exit,” Lillie said as if she were reading my thoughts. I swear, even though we talked different and dressed different, sometimes I wondered if our brains were wired to the same wavelength.

  The air grew chillier the more we descended. Sweat beading on my forehead began to cool. I wished I’d brought a heavier jacket. By the time we
neared the bottom, my breath came out in short huffs. We stepped to the ground, our footsteps echoing over the huge floor.

  I took in my surroundings.

  Yankee Stadium was huge, but it didn’t fill the entire chamber. Mounds of stone and smooth planes of shale occupied the rest of the space.

  I observed the stadium. Playing field, bleachers, announcer box, all looked intact, as if a giant had scooped it up and buried it here. How could this have happened? An explosion certainly didn’t explain this level of weirdness.

  Could a Shine have moved Yankees Stadium underground?

  We circled the outskirts of the field. Soft plastic turf squished underfoot as we stepped onto the sports ground.

  “Turf,” Lillie whispered, her voice echoing around the huge chamber.

  “Excuse me?”

  She tapped her foot. The turf squished under her foot. “It’s turf. Wonder what happened to the grass?”

  “Doubt grass could grow down here.”

  “Whoever’s replaced the grass with turf will have hell to pay. Come on, that’s just wrong. The field is legendary for its Kentucky bluegrass. Not supposed to be any plastic in the place.”

  “Would you stop worrying about the grass?” Sometimes she obsessed over the most ridiculous things. I turned my attention to the empty bleachers. I listened for voices, for footsteps, any signs of human life, but heard none.

  Ms. Conrad said her daughter had gone missing four days ago. That begged the question: Where was she?

  I peeked between the bleachers, behind the press box, but saw no signs of her or anyone else. After we circled the field, Lillie nodded to a heap of rocks off the field.

  We traded turf for stone-strewn ground as I followed my sister to the mound. When we stopped, she put a finger across her lips, then pointed to something behind the batting cage. I followed her line of sight. Off the field, a cave-like entrance had been carved into the massive back wall.

  Bingo.

  The Xeros must have imprisoned the girls back there.

  We started toward the entrance when the sound of footsteps stopped us. I halted in mid-step, then crept back to the rock outcropping. Lillie followed with muted footsteps. We crouched behind the stones. I prayed we stayed out of sight. The last thing we needed was to attract attention. Get in. Rescue the girl. Get out. That was my plan.

  The sounds of footsteps grew louder. I counted multiple pairs of feet. A hooded figure emerged, followed by three others. All four figures wore dark green cloaks with cowls, making it impossible for me to see their faces. But the cloaks didn’t hide their gaits, or their figures. One adult male and three adolescent females. At least I was pretty sure.

  “Onto the field,” said a grating male voice. The three smaller figures stumbled onto the turf. As if on cue, more people emerged from the cave. They filed into the stands. From my vantage point behind the boulder, I watched until they’d filled only a few rows. Still, there were over a hundred people out there.

  No way we’d get out of this place if they found us.

  Screams and jeers erupted as the man in the cloak prodded the two girls to the center of the field. The man pulled off his hood and I got a good look at him.

  This was a person I would hate to meet in a dark alley. Though his cloak hid his body, his muscled neck looked thicker than a bull’s. His shaved head gleamed with scars, though unlike any scars I’d ever seen before. Raised, yellow keloids adorned his scalp, as if he’d gotten into a brawl with saber-tooth tiger. I’d never seen scars that color before. Maybe they weren’t scars at all.

  “That’s one freaky looking dude,” Lillie whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “I wonder what made the scars?” she asked.

  “Either he had bad luck with a banana peel, or he got owned by a Shine.”

  “My money’s on the Shine.”

  The crowd yelled and the noise reverberated through the cavern. Banana Brains barked a command, and the girls slowly shrugged off their cloaks.

  I stared at three equally mangled teenage girls. I had no idea how they were standing upright. Bruises ranging in color from deep mottled purple to yellow marred all three faces. The bruises ran down their arms and covered their legs.

  My insides roiled at with revulsion.

  One girl stood taller than the others. I guess she would be considered mature for her age. Her tattered clothing couldn’t hide her bulky frame, and her tangled mass of dark, kinky hair stuck out in patches from her half-bald head.

  The thinnest girl had Asian features. She looked as though she hadn’t eaten an actual meal for weeks. Bones protruded from her shoulder blades. Her cheeks were sunken, giving her a skeletal appearance.

  The shortest girl would be considered rangy. Her long legs looked out of proportion with her body. Blood smeared both of her knobby kneecaps, and even from this distance, I saw her legs trembling. Dried mud clung to her hair, but in some places, ash-blonde hair peeked out, the same color as her mother’s.

  “Looks like we found our girl,” Lillie said.

  “What’s left of her.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “You think we should go after her?” Lillie asked.

  I peered at the three battered teens in the center of Yankee field. Taunts and shouts echoed through the dome. Every eye in the stadium focused on those two. “Not now. It’s too dangerous. We’ll have to wait until they’re alone.”

  “If they don’t kill each other first.”

  My stomach churned as I looked at the crowd. I liked to think the best of people, but seeing the mob delight in the disfigurement and torture of innocent teens was enough to make my blood simmer.

  Besides the freaky nature of this entire situation, something else bothered me. These guys had appeared almost exactly when we did. Why? Had they known we were coming? If so, then we had to get out of here fast. But how?

  Banana Brains backed off the turf, turned to a rope hanging near the batting cages, then yanked it twice.

  The pealing of the bell filled the noisy arena. The crowd quieted.

  The girls stared at one another without flinching, as if they were statues. I unzipped my backpack and pulled out my tiny pair of binoculars to get a better look. As I focused, I studied each girl, realizing they stared at each other with hate-filled eyes.

  “Maybe we should grab her now,” Lillie whispered. “Before they kill each other.”

  Maybe we should. I didn’t know what would be left of Ashleigh after this brawl was over. Bringing a corpse back to Ms. Conrad wasn’t my plan. We wouldn’t get paid, but that didn’t seem important now. Saving Ashleigh’s life was our new mission. “How?”

  “I’ll create a diversion. You grab Ashleigh and head into that tunnel. The staircase is too risky to use as an exit. Find somewhere to hide. I’ll meet you back there.”

  “What kind of diversion do you have in mind?”

  “Not sure yet.”

  The three girls moved away from each other. The tallest girl clenched her fists. Through my binoculars, I saw the fear in her face turn to rage. Sweat beaded her skin and dampened the ringlets clinging to her forehead.

  She attacked the weakest girl first. The girl with Asian features backed away as the taller girl slammed a fist into her face. The weaker girl collapsed without a fight. She lay in a heap on the ground.

  Ashleigh stood between them. “Stop it, Gemma.” Her voice rang through the cavern. I spotted speaker boxes arranged at intervals along the stands. Not only had the Xeros orchestrated these fights, but they’d found a way to broadcast them through the stadium.

  Gemma pounded her fists into her friend’s face the same way she’d done to the other girl. Ashleigh flew back and hit the ground hard. Her face contorted with pain. She whimpered.

  Gemma stood over her. “Get up.”

  “No.”

  “Get up!” Gemma flung her fist and hit Ashleigh in the jaw. Then Gemma knelt beside her and pressed a meaty hand to her friend’s face.

  Ashl
eigh writhed beneath the bigger girl. Gemma pushed so hard I thought she would crush Ashleigh’s skull. She pushed harder, harder. A human skull could only take so much pressure. Ashleigh’s face reddened. She grabbed Gemma’s wrists and tried to pry them off, but the bigger girl didn’t budge.

  “Shine,” Gemma said.

  Ashleigh gasped. “No.”

  Sweat poured from Gemma’s face, dropping in pools on the turf. “You have to.”

  “I . . . won’t.”

  Ashleigh dug her fingernails into Gemma’s arm, but Gemma didn’t move. The smaller girl coughed. Water drops bigger than tears leaked from her eyes. Something weird was going on.

  “Shine,” Gemma repeated.

  Ashleigh answered with a hoarse scream. The sound reverberated through the entire chamber, combining with the yells from the crowd. “Stop, please stop.”

  “You know I won’t.” Gemma’s voice sounded weak.

  Ashleigh wheezed, gasping for air. Her face twisted with pain.

  I felt helpless watching them. I should be out there. I should tear Gemma away from the helpless child on the ground. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Not now.

  Ashleigh yelled again. This time she grabbed Gemma’s wrists and flung the husky girl off. Gemma landed forty feet away.

  Ashleigh rubbed a mud-caked hand across her nose, smearing the dirt even more. Her tears stopped. With strands of oily hair hanging down her face and mud caking her fingernails, she looked feral. This wasn’t the young woman I’d seen in the picture. This was someone else.

  She stalked toward Gemma with light, precise footsteps, the way a cheetah would move toward a wounded antelope. Gemma rolled onto her back and stared at her friend. Her face paled.

  Ashleigh grabbed Gemma’s shirt collar. As if she were plucking a flower from the ground, she lifted the bigger girl up and threw her into the chain link fence surrounding the batting cage.

  The clatter of metal bursting apart ripped through the air. When Gemma finally stood, blood dripped from gashes in her hands and face.

  Ashleigh stood in the center of the field, peering at her friend with insanity in her eyes.

  Lillie shifted beside me. “Flares.”