Chaos

by David Meyer

  Finally, I leaned down and examined an ivory-colored object. It stuck straight out of Javier’s leg bone but didn’t seem like it belonged to him. I grabbed the object, wrenching it free.

  I brought it to my face. At first glance, it looked long and sharp. As I turned it in my hands, a horrifying realization hit me.

  It was a tooth. A giant tooth.

  The biggest one I’d ever seen.

  Chapter 19

  Never before had a building inspired such loathing in my soul.

  From the opposite sidewalk, I stared up at the Explorer’s Society’s headquarters, barely containing my disgust. The more I saw it, the more it served as a stark reminder of simpler, happier times. Times spent laughing with Diane. Living in Manhattan. Working as a respected archaeologist. Living a life free of guilt, free of regrets.

  Living a life without the constant reminder of death.

  Sheets of rain engulfed the building and the surrounding area. Dark shadows plagued everything. It was early morning and yet it didn’t look like it.

  I gulped in a few mouthfuls of cold moisture-filled air. Then, I crossed the street and started up the staircase. I kept my eyes low to avoid the rain, deliberately ignoring the stained glass, the white marble, and those creepy statue heads.

  At the pair of heavy oak doors, I paused. My instincts told me to trace my fingers along the grooves, just like I did as a boy. But I ignored them. Instead, I shoved the doors open and stepped into the interior.

  Despite the relatively early hour, a few people milled around the Great Hall. I didn’t look at them although I sensed their eyes on me, staring, wondering, evaluating. Without pausing, I marched forward, barely noticing the dark wood floor, the oriental carpets, or the exhibits. I had no interest in the Society itself, not anymore.

  At the rear of the Hall, I angled right and hurried down the long corridor. As I passed Diane’s painting, I wanted to stop, to drink it in. But I averted my eyes and continued walking.

  The door at the end of the corridor was closed. As soon as I reached it, I grabbed the knob, twisted, and flung it open.

  “What the hell?”

  The gravely, gritty tone brought a smile to my face. It felt good to smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done it. “Long time no see.”

  Graham spun around in his chair and flashed me a tired grin. “Well, well, look who decided to show his face. After yesterday’s little debacle, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “What’s a little fight between old friends?”

  He chuckled. “I wish I’d taped it. One minute you’re toe to toe with Standish. The next, you’re gone and he’s tripping over a seat trying to grab you. The poor bastard fell flat on his face.”

  “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

  “What was that all about anyway? You mentioned Colombia and caciques?”

  I sat down in a chair. “He bribed his way into ownership of a dig site and proceeded to clean it out.”

  Graham frowned. “You should lodge a complaint against him. The Society takes that kind of thing very seriously.”

  “Yeah right,” I replied. “Who’s going to listen to me? I’m persona non grata around here.”

  Graham shrugged. “So, what’s new? You still working for Chase or did you finally wise up?”

  “I’m sort of in hiatus.”

  “What are you doing for him anyway?”

  I hesitated. “I signed a non-disclosure agreement so I can’t say much. But I do have a favor to ask.”

  “What’s that?”

  I reached into my pocket and closed my fingers around the hard, sharp object. No one else knew about it but me. Not the doctor who examined my wounds a few hours ago. Not Chase. Not even Beverly.

  Extending my hand, I opened my fingers. “Have you ever seen something like this before?”

  He took the tooth and examined it. A frown spread across his face. “Where did you find this?”

  “Never mind that. Do you recognize it?”

  Graham stood up. Wobbling slightly, he retrieved a book from the bookshelf and scanned it. “I thought so,” he said at last. “Here it is.”

  He placed the book on the desk and flipped it around to face me. Leaning in, I noticed a photo of a tooth that looked quite similar to the one I’d found. My eyes drifted to the caption and I felt my heart skip a beat.

  “It’s an alligator tooth,” Graham said. “The American alligator to be exact. And a massive one too from the looks of it.”

  “But that’s impossible.”

  Graham settled back into his chair. “I answered your question. Now, you answer mine. Where’d you find it?”

  “In a sewer tunnel.”

  “I thought I smelled something rancid in here.”

  “I guess one shower wasn’t enough to erase the stench.”

  Graham grimaced. “You guessed right. So, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here or not?”

  “I haven’t seen an alligator if that’s what you’re wondering. But the tooth did come from a sewer tunnel.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe someone flushed it down a toilet for some reason. Hell, if you looked closely enough, I’d bet you’d find all sorts of strange shit in those sewers.”

  “Could an alligator even survive in the sewers?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve heard the stories but I always considered them urban legends.”

  “There was one gator back in 1935. Some folks found it in a Harlem sewer. But if my memory is correct, it didn’t actually live in that sewer. It escaped and took refuge in it. By the time it was discovered, the reptile had nearly starved and frozen to death. I can recall a few other discoveries since then. But most of those alligators were small, maybe a foot or two long.”

  He tipped his head back, deep in thought. “I also recall hearing about a guy named Teddy May. They used to call him King of the Sewers. He achieved some fame in the 1940s and 1950s for his supposed exploits under New York. He once claimed to have led a sewer safari to wipe out an alligator colony. Of course, Teddy was renowned for his tall tales so who really knows for sure?”

  I thought for a second. “You’ve hunted alligators before. Do you think one could survive in Manhattan’s sewer system?”

  “Well now, that’s a tough question to answer. Our cold winter climate isn’t really conducive to an alligator. The sewers would give it some degree of warmth but I don’t know if they could provide enough food.”

  “What if it, uh, ate people?”

  He gave me a questioning look. “Well, gators are man-eaters, no question about that.”

  Did that explain it? Were Kolen, Adcock, and the others attacked and consumed by a hungry alligator? The thought made me nauseous. “So a gator could survive on humans alone?”

  “Not without being noticed.”

  “What other food could it find in New York?”

  “Rodents.” He tapped his jaw. “Pets. Fish too. But it would have to get outside to find them.”

  His last few words rang a bell. “I remember reading a story in the New York Times about some guy who fished for carp in the basement of his building.”

  “That’s a bunch of nonsense.”

  “Assume that it’s not for a moment. Where would the fish come from?”

  He sighed. “You’ve spent a lot of time researching New Amsterdam. Well, back then the rest of Manhattan looked quite different as well. Dozens of streams and brooks carved their way across the landscape. I couldn’t name them all. In fact, I’m not even sure all of them had names. But I remember a few. For example, Minetta Brook cut across what we now know as Greenwich Village and emptied into the Hudson. Supposedly, it was great trout fishing.”

  “How about in midtown? What rivers ran through that area?”

  Graham rose to his feet again and dragged himself to another bookshelf. He rummaged around for a moment before pulling out a large, colorful map. “Back in 1860, a civil engineer named Egbert Viele b
egan tracing the remains of Manhattan’s original waterways. This map, the Viele Map, is the result of his efforts.”

  Graham spread the map across his desk. “Viele’s primary concern was disease. He wanted to provide drainage for active springs covered up by construction. These days, engineers use it to avoid building on top of groundwater.”

  Leaning over, I examined the map. Three separate streams ran southeast, intersecting around 42nd Street and 3rd Avenue. From there, the combined stream ran all the way to the East River.

  I pointed at them. “What happened to these waterways?”

  “They got pushed underground to make way for new construction. But they didn’t go away. They’re still flowing under the surface, fed by recurring springs. When the tide changes, they even wreak some havoc from time to time.”

  “And yet you don’t think fish still live in them?”

  “Fish don’t live underground. If a stream ran through a pond, I suppose a fish could get sucked into the current. But otherwise, it just doesn’t happen.”

  “What about cave fish? Don’t they live underground?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Good point. Still, for a population of fish to self-sustain under Manhattan, it would need some way to access food derived from photosynthesis. Either that or someone would have to feed them.”

  “But it’s possible, right?”

  “Unlikely. But possible.”

  An alligator under Manhattan. The very idea seemed fanciful. And yet, between the tooth and the corpses, it was the only explanation that fit the facts.

  “Are you going to hunt it?” Graham asked.

  “Hunt what?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Cy. You obviously think an alligator is living in the sewers and eating people. So, what are you going to do about it?”

  I shook my head. “My role’s over. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

  “Do you really think a gator’s down there?”

  I stood up. “I don’t know for sure. But something’s down there. Something evil. And it needs to be stopped.”

  Chapter 20

  My brow furrowed as I attempted to recall that once-familiar odor of fresh barbecue. My breathing slowed and my senses stirred.

  I flashed back three years ago. I saw the litter on the sidewalk, the flowerboxes hanging from windows above. I heard the occasional screeching of tires, the chirping of birds. But try as I might, my nose just wouldn’t cooperate. The best I could manage to gin up was a dull, lifeless memory.

  My lip curled in annoyance. That aroma had remained locked in my brain for the last three years. But now, I felt it slipping away.

  It was frustrating yet comforting. I’d miss the memory. But if good memories could fade, perhaps bad ones could as well. Maybe someday I’d forget my sins. Maybe I’d forget all that transpired three years ago. Maybe I’d even forget the last few days.

  Maybe.

  Twenty-four hours had passed since I’d first set foot in New York. Twenty-four long sleepless hours. My limbs felt tired and my legs demanded rest. My body ran on fumes, yet my mind remained crystal clear.

  I shuffled the facts in my brain, examining them over and over again. Hartek’s treasure. The mysterious homeless man. The alligator attacks. The diseased colony. Something connected them all. Something that continued to escape me.

  But what?

  Strong winds whipped down the block. The surging rainfall switched directions, drenching my torso. Never in my life had I seen a more ferocious storm. Even time itself couldn’t weaken it. If anything, the rain had grown stronger since I’d arrived in Manhattan. Ancient civilizations would’ve considered it a sign from above.

  I considered it a sign to get indoors.

  As I neared the intersection, I caught glimpses of morning traffic. Lines of cars, bumper to bumper, ran as far as I could see. I noticed furious faces, staring straight ahead. Clenched hands wrapped around steering wheels. Mouths working a mile a minute, spitting anger into Bluetooth devices.

  My mind drifted to Kolen. Did an alligator really kill him? It seemed so unlikely and yet I couldn’t think of any other explanation that fit the facts.

  I swallowed as I recalled his dead body. Saliva burnt my throat like battery acid. Quickly, I put him out of my mind.

  I turned at the corner and started to walk down 78th Street. Despite the heavy cloud cover, I could see the familiar apartment building. My eyes lifted toward her window, second from the left and four stories above ground. It shone brightly.

  A sudden gust of wind blasted into my side. My body tipped. Fighting hard, I managed to regain my balance without a spill.

  I glanced upward. Storm clouds churned in the sky. The tempest seemed to worsen by the minute.

  I started walking again. My boots stomped across the slippery pavement, sending small puddles of water flying into the air. After reaching the exterior of her building, I stepped underneath the overhang.

  Cupping my hands around my eyes, I peered through the doors. A small lobby sat on the other side of the glass. Although nothing fancy, it appeared clean and well kept. A dark brown rug covered the floor, its color and texture hiding any traces of wet, muddy boots. Off to one side, I saw a wall of mailboxes, a set of crooked stairs, and an elevator.

  A list of names with corresponding buttons was mounted on the wall next to me. I ran my finger down the list to Apartment 4H and read the name.

  D. Blair.

  I pressed the appropriate button. A faint buzzing noise hissed from the wall, followed by static.

  “Who is it?”

  I took a deep breath. “It’s Cy,” I replied into the metal speaker. “Cy Reed.”

  Silence followed. After a few seconds, I tried again. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

  More silence followed.

  Finally, she coughed. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “I can come back later.”

  “I won’t have time then either.”

  “I understand. Say the word and I’ll never contact you again.”

  Once again, silence fell over the area. As I waited for her answer, I stared hard at the door, as if my gaze could somehow cause it to magically open.

  “Cy?”

  The faraway voice lacked static and seemed to come from above. Venturing out from underneath the overhang, I saw the silhouette of a face looking down at me. I squinted, trying to peer between the raindrops, but her features were impossible to distinguish.

  “I’m here,” I called back.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to clear the air.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I owe you an apology. I was a jerk to leave the way I did. You deserved better.”

  Lightning flashed across the sky and I caught a tiny glimpse of her face. It looked blank. But I could sense the emotional struggle just underneath the surface.

  “You never said goodbye.”

  My mind flashed back to that fateful night. I remembered walking into her apartment, pretending that nothing had changed. We talked. We ate. We slept together.

  Late that evening, I snuck out of her room, packed my bag, and left New York. Just like that, my life changed forever.

  “You left me in the middle of the night.” Her voice changed. “You didn’t even have the guts to tell me to my face.”

  “It seemed like the easiest –”

  “Well, it wasn’t,” she said, practically yelling now. “You never said a word to me. You just left me this lousy note.”

  She reached her hands out of the window. I saw a spark and a flash of light. A brief flame erupted into the dark sky.

  As the ashes drifted toward me, Diane turned away. The glass slammed down to the sill and I suddenly felt very cold. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I watched her window for a few seconds, searching for her silhouette.

  But it never appeared.

  I backed away from the building. Then I turned and retraced my steps. I crossed
slabs of concrete, feeling numb both inside and out.

  Thunder crashed across the sky and the rain picked up speed. Hunching down, I struggled through the stormy weather.

  I decided to make one more stop at ShadowFire’s headquarters. Despite Beverly’s threat about yanking my payment, I needed to tell them about the alligator. Once I did that, I’d leave Manhattan.

  This time for good.

  A loud pop deafened me.

  And then, everything went black.

  I looked around. All nearby artificial lights had been extinguished. It looked like a power outage. And judging by the blocks of dark buildings in all directions, it was a massive one.

  Seconds passed and I became aware of another light, a smaller one and far more distant. My eyes drifted to the sky. High above, I saw the sun’s rays peeking through the thick cloud cover. It was beautiful, breathtaking even.

  There was something strange in the air. I could sense it. It made me feel small, but at the same time, free.

  The sound of rain splattering against the sidewalk disappeared. I no longer tasted salt in the air. One by one, my senses faded away until only my eyesight remained.

  And as I stared at the wonders of nature, something changed within me. I couldn’t leave New York, not yet. Last time I faced adversity, I’d tucked tail and ran away. I’d spent the last three years running. And all I had to show for it was a trainload of guilt and endless bouts of anxiety.

  I didn’t want to run any longer, not from New York, not from Diane, not from anything else. I needed to make peace with my past. I needed to take charge of my future.

  Abruptly, a thought hit my brain. It happened so fast that I never even saw it coming. And after it passed, I finally understood.

  I adjusted my direction, steering myself back toward the subway tunnels. I just hoped Beverly had left them unlocked. I needed to gather proof before I went to her and Chase. And I needed to do it fast.

  If my theory was correct, the Grim Reaper wasn’t done yet.

  And that meant that there was more death to come.

  Lots of death.

  Chapter 21

  Sidling up to the wall, I took a quick peek into the layup yard. The space was dark and muted. In the dim light offered by a small, crackling fire, I saw a single shadow. It was large and shaped just like the giant I’d fought the previous night.