Then again, a man could do a whole lot of living on ten grand. Hell, he could get a new television, get his cable reconnected with porn channels and everything. There was also the matter of Tocat, who might not take it so well if he came back without Cole and the woman. The Teco might not be as dangerous as the things that crawled the sewers, but he could still snuff out Crabbe like a damp cigarette.
Either way there were risks, and either way there were rewards, and only God knew which path was the best to take. In times like this a smuggler had only one friend, though it’d been a while since they’d last talked.
Pinning the flashlight between his knees, Crabbe reached into his coat pocket and dug out a tarnished quarter—his entire life’s savings until he’d been handed the roll of bills up at the park. Balancing it on his dirty thumbnail, he closed his eyes and whispered into the darkness, “Please, Saint Dismas, I’ll try and be a better guy, and, however it lands, I’ll drop a twe—a ten—in the collection plate next time I get the chance. Help me pick the way to go.”
Crossing himself, he flicked up the coin, caught it and slapped it down onto the back of his hand.
“Heads, I wait for ‘em,” he mumbled. “Tails, they’re on their own.”
He slowly lifted his hand from the coin and squinted down at the result.
* * *
Lindsay hurried to help Jack to his feet. He tried to stand, every breath like a fresh blow. For sure, he had cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder, and there was something the hell wrong with his leg, too. “The Moles are going to be here any minute,” he wheezed. “You remember the way back?”
Through the ringing in her ears, Lindsay nodded. “Then take Seline and run. I’ll catch up.” His bout with MacMurphy’s thug had left him severely injured, and there was no way he’d make it to the Chasm before the Moles reached them. Not on his own steam, anyway.
Lindsay shook her head. “No way. We’re all going, Jack. Now.”
He gritted his teeth in pain and frustration. “Linds, I’ll make it. Now go.”
Lindsay hauled on him. “You sure will. Now move, goddamn you.”
All Jack needed to do was to drop down; she wasn’t strong enough to carry him. The Moles would come and take him, and that would be that. Except Lindsay would fight them, and there would be no way she could fend them all off. She would die horribly. Seline, too. He moaned and pushed to stand.
Lindsay hung on. She shifted so that her arm came around his waist, and slung her gun over her back.
“Seline,” she called. “Get on his other side. We’re leaving.”
* * *
Behind them MacMurphy weakly raised her head and ran her tongue over the jagged remains of her front teeth as she watched the light from the gun disappear down a side passage. Hugo had been a useful follower, and his sacrifice had served its purpose. The Moles were on their way, and Cole was too injured to outrun them. Soon he’d be back where he belonged, and this time his conversion to the underground would be completed. The Moles were very effective at breaking people, but she had a few tricks to add to their psychological arsenal. A cocktail of pentazocine, sertraline and a few other psychotropic drugs would do wonders for his attitude, and with his cooperation, their plans could begin in earnest.
One day soon, New York would be plunged into darkness, their communications severed and their water poisoned. The same fate would befall all the major cities of the world, and in the ensuing chaos, the APs would torch it all. It wouldn’t be an act of war, nor one of terrorism, for they had no demands to make of humanity. It would be an act of glorious revenge, and the dawn of a new dark age in which monsters, both human and not, would again stalk the night.
She smiled. Then began to laugh. A high-pitched cackle of unbounded hatred that heightened as a pack of inhuman forms rushed past her into the blackness, hell-bent for Schenley's Chasm.
* * *
Lindsay knew Jack was fighting to remain conscious. His each gasping breath was pained, each step a visible effort. She and Seline were moving as fast as possible, their breathing labored as they dragged him through the columned halls. In the shifting light all the passages looked the same, the fetish dolls mocking her from their niches upon the hewn walls. She worried that in their haste she had made a wrong turn. The Pits were a labyrinth of tunnels and side passages, no doubt designed to confuse intruders and lure them to dead ends.
Jack rasped out, “You sure you know—?”
Had he sensed her doubt? “Jack, the only thing blonde about me is my hair. We’re almost there.”
Seline whimpered. “Hurry, I can hear them! They’re catching up!”
Lindsay shook her head, trying to get rid of the high-pitched whine that still sounded in her ear. Between it and the thumping of her adrenaline-fueled heart, she could barely hear a thing, but she believed Seline. She had witnessed firsthand the deadly alacrity of the Moles. Their only hope was the Chasm, where the chill, toxic waters might halt the creatures’ pursuit.
Then, as if in answer to her prayers, she spotted the natural side passage that led to the underground river. With renewed vigor, she pulled Jack and Seline into the tunnel.
“Only fifty feet more,” she whispered, as much in encouragement to herself as them. “Thirty. Twenty. Ten.”
They burst into the cavern, with such momentum that Lindsay had to plant her feet to stop them all from going headlong into the filthy water. Desperately she looked about, for a moment incredulous, before rage and panic filled her heart.
The boat was gone.
“Damn you, Isaac Crabbe!” she screamed.
Then, from out of the darkness the man appeared, poling his boat towards them. “I’m here! I’m here! Keep your panties on!”
“Lindsay!” Jack yelled, and with a fierce shove sent her and Seline sprawling into the frigid water. From behind leapt a trio of nightmares, their black jaws snapping where Lindsay had just been. Jack gave a brutal kick at the one closest to him, propelling it into its companions so all three went head over heels.
Lindsay and Seline emerged chest-high in the water, its cold gunk strong enough to burn. She put the gun to her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The small cavern instantly filled with the blaze and thunder of gunfire. Jack hit the floor as gore splashed over the symbols scrawled on the cave walls, two of the Moles going down in the hail of bullets. The third dodged aside, and like a great jungle cat, leaped over the arc of Lindsay’s gunfire toward her.
There was a loud crack as Crabbe’s pole connected with its head, spinning it into the water. When the monster surfaced, thrashing and sputtering, the smuggler whacked it again with his improvised weapon, dispatching it beneath the churning water.
Lindsay hauled her niece onboard, tipping the boat dangerously. Jack had slid into the water as well, and she struggled to get him into it. His weight was too much for her.
“Help me, Jack!” she yelled. “Get up there! Get on the fucking boat!”
His hand clutching the edge of the skiff, Jack let out a soundless scream as he pulled himself over his damaged shoulder. She shoved him hard and his face thumped onto the rough boards on the bottom of the wildly rocking craft.
Lindsay threw her gun aboard and scrambled to follow as Crabbe madly poled towards the shelter of the deep chasm. She had lifted her torso free of the reeking effluent as the Mole surfaced directly behind her.
Its clawed hands seized her hair, pulling her back with a screech of rage, and from the corner of her eye, Lindsay caught the shadows of a dozen more of the creatures as they charged through the cavern entrance and plunged into the waters in a rabid effort to reclaim their lost prize.
Crabbe saw them too, and poled even more furiously even as the beast tugged at Lindsay. She kicked and struggled, muscles straining, until suddenly the light from the gun shone directly in her eyes. There was a deafening crack of gunfire as Jack put the last bullet squarely into the Mole’s forehead. It let go, and with the sudden release of its weight, Lindsay rolled on board to
land directly on top of Jack. He gave a tortured groan but held her still.
Despite his compact body, Crabbe’s strength was superhuman as he pushed the boat to the narrow side passage. The Moles proved weak swimmers, and were left behind, splashing uselessly in the chill waters. Lindsay heard their inhuman howls of frustration, and, righting herself, caught one last glimpse of their ragged forms paddling the water like huge sewer rats.
“They haven’t given up,” Jack wheezed, lowering the gun as the hellish cavern disappeared into the gloom. “Those things will never give up.”
Lindsay turned to him, almost throwing herself into his arms before remembering his injuries. She was freezing, filthy, beaten and half-scared to death, yet more elated than she’d ever been in her life. She took Seline’s hand and gripped it hard.
“Neither will we, Jack.”
* * *
Lindsay was endlessly grateful to her own foresight in having left a backpack of clean, dry clothes in the boat. All three of them were soaked through and didn’t worry overmuch about modesty as they struggled into their change of clothes. They couldn’t do much about their wet jackets though and Seline didn’t have one, so they all huddled under Crabbe’s ratty winter coat as he struggled to return them to Riverside Park.
In the uncertain light Crabbe’s face gleamed with sweat, and his breath sounded like an asthmatic in a marathon. “Just a few more minutes. We’re almost there. Up the rope. Hop and a skip along the drain. And up to the top. A trip to the hospital. Then my nine grand, right?”
Lindsay smiled through her chattering teeth. “That and a bonus.”
Turning to Jack, Lindsay found him frighteningly pale, but his amber eyes shone with concentration.
She set her hand on his thigh. “Jack?”
“I’m trying to figure out how MacMurphy knew we’d be coming this way. Even we didn't know about this passage till a couple of days ago.”
Lindsay shook her head. “She couldn’t have. Otherwise the Moles would have ambushed us as soon as we were inside.”
“Then, how was it they were waiting for us as we left? They weren’t guarding that passage for fun. They deliberately let us in.”
“She said she wanted to bag you herself,” Seline piped up through chattering teeth. “Said you were going to help them find other colonies. She knew that you were coming to rescue me.”
“How?” Jack asked.
“She didn’t say.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Lindsay said. “Once we’re up, we’ll be free of them. We’ll tell the authorities about what’s going on, and we’ll get the Moles chased out of this city forever.”
Jack grimaced. “Who’s going to believe us, Lindsay?”
She didn’t know who. She didn’t even know where to begin. “Hey, we survived a Mole attack. New York bureaucracy can’t be much worse.”
Crabbe reached his makeshift dock, stepped onto the bank of the underground river and secured the boat in place. “I’ll go first,” he said, eyeing Jack. “As soon as I’m there, I’ll pull you up, okay?”
He turned to the rough, icy wall and swore. The rope they’d come down on was gone. Crabbe trailed the beam of his flashlight upward until it focused on an athletic female at the top, an aged revolver in her hand.
“I’m surprised you made it back, Jack,” Gali said, the corner of her mouth tugged upward in an ironic smile. “Well, actually, not that surprised. That’s why I decided to wait and make sure of things.”
Of course, Lindsay realized, her gut tightening. Gali hadn’t been washing her surgical tools. She’d eavesdropped on the conversation with Tocat.
Jack’s eyes narrowed on her. “Why, Gali?”
“Because I love you,” she replied, her hard voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you, when you came down to Agharta with Reggie’s gang. That’s why I saved you. That’s why I took care of you.”
“So you thought telling the APs about our rescue would put you in my good books?” His voice was weak but hard.
Something in his quiet, intractable tone floated up to Gali. Her brittle calm broke. “I’ll never be in your good books, Jack. To you I’ll always be garbage—not even fit to walk on the same ground as your fucking topsiders! Didn’t you know I would have done anything for you? I would have given my life for yours. Wasn’t that enough? Instead you take up with a Nazi bitch who’ll never understand you!”
“What do you want, Gali?” Jack asked. “You want me to die?”
Gali set her jaw. “I’m a healer, Jack. I won’t hurt anyone unless they force my hand, but I’m not going to lose you. Not like this. Not to someone like her.”
“So what do you want?” he repeated, anger strengthening his pain-slurred voice.
“I want you to go back where you belong, Jack.” She wiped at her eyes. “Go back to the Moles.”
“They’ll kill me, Gali.”
“No, they won’t.” Hysteria wobbled her voice. “MacMurphy promised me they wouldn’t. She said I could have you once you’d helped them, and don’t you see how perfect that’ll be? You and me, Jack, we’ll be together, safe in Agharta while the world burns. You’ll finally be where you belong, and I’ll love you more than anyone else ever could. More than my own life.”
Jack stared up at her. “Swear to me you’ll let everyone else go.”
“No, Jack!” Lindsay cried. He didn’t spare her a glance.
“I swear I will as long as they don’t try anything,” Gali said. “And you have to go back with me. We’ll go in the boat to The Pits and I’ll take care of you till you’re well again. Just like before.”
“Then, throw down the rope, Gali.”
Lindsay turned Jack’s face to her. “No, Jack! No way. You can’t go back with her. It’s insane!”
Jack smiled slightly, his face so pale as to be ghostlike.
“I love you, Linds,” he said quietly.
Lindsay stared into his eyes, unable to say a word. Behind her, the rope uncoiled to the ground, and Gali slid down it to join them on the bank.
“You go first,” she ordered Crabbe. “Don’t go anywhere. We need you to pull up these two topsiders.”
Crabbe nodded, not wasting a second before scrambling up the rope like a monkey. As soon as he reached the top, Gali gestured with her pistol at Seline.
When Seline hesitated, Lindsay waved her on. “Go. Go now.”
Shivering, Seline clung to the rope, and Crabbe heaved her up to the ledge.
“You’re next, bitch.” Gali leveled her pistol at Lindsay. “You got your girl back, so you should be happy. That’s all you were fucking him for anyway, wasn’t it?”
Lindsay fixed the woman with an icy stare, even though she couldn’t be sure that from that distance Gali could see her. “You don’t know anything about me, Gali, and you don’t know a damn thing about love, either.”
Though it was reckless, Lindsay turned away from Gali and pressed her lips to Jack’s, molding her body to his. “I love you, too, Jack,” she said. “But you’re not getting away with this.”
“Get away from him!” Gali screamed, her gun trained squarely at Lindsay’s back, then she was knocked off her feet by an avalanche of Schenley's whiskey crates thrown from above. Lindsay didn’t miss her chance. She jumped Gali, wrestling for the gun in a full-blown cat-fight. Though Gali was strong, Lindsay had the twin edges of desperation and surprise. Beating the woman down with all her might, she wrenched away the gun and tossed it into the oily waters.
Hauling Gali to her feet, Lindsay slammed her hard against the icy wall. “You bitch!” she hissed. “I’m going to do worse than kill you. I’m going to leave you down here in the dark. Down in these sewers like the fucking rat you are.” She felt Jack’s shaky hand on her shoulder, and slowly she released Gali, allowing him to face the woman.
Through dark eyes, Gali looked up at him, lips trembling. “Please Jack…you’re one of us…can’t you see that? Up there, you’re nothing. Dow
n here, you’ll have everything…I need you...”
Jack regarded her, his face softening from grim anger to simple pity. “Go home, Gali.”
Lindsay watched Gali slump against the cavern wall. She would be forever grateful to the healer for saving Jack’s life, for her part in restoring him to a life of light and connection, to her. Yet the same woman had sought to pull him back down into her own dark and tortured world.
Jack took Lindsay’s hand, even as she reached for it with her own. They turned and walked away.
The last thing they heard as they were lifted away, back into the noise and light, into a place of hope and warmth, were the sobs of a lost soul.
Three months later
Another fluorescent light was on the blink in Captain Monroe’s cramped office, and Lindsay was giving it the evil eye when Agent Jill Lever finally arrived. Jack and the captain straightened in their chairs, and even Lindsay caught herself striking an alert pose.
“Sorry I’m late,” the plain-suited woman said in a tone that showed her apology was only a formality, and shut the door behind her. “The meeting at the mayor’s office went late, resulting in decisions being made.”
Nobody replied. This was their third meeting with the CIA agent, and they’d gotten used to her telling them purely what she’d been authorized to share. Asking additional questions was always fruitless.
Not bothering to sit, she turned her martial expression to Captain Monroe. “The military have verified that the Manhattan deep-earth nuclear shelter was indeed breached, and have also confirmed some of Dr. Cole’s extraordinary reports regarding the…individuals responsible. Tunnels in the area are being sealed to prevent further trespassing.
“Both the Agency and the mayor’s office request that everyone involved in Seline Sterling’s rescue keep the matter from the press until further notice. The last thing we want is to provoke a panic, or encourage curiosity-seekers to enter the tunnels. I trust we'll have your full cooperation.”
Undertow (The UnderCity Chronicles) Page 25