“You’re a philosopher, too?” John asked. “If we get out of here alive, I am writing the story of a lifetime. Everyone in New York, hell, the United States, will want to hire you.”
“Getting out of here alive – that’s a pretty tall order if there are enough of those things out there. Plus, how do we know it’s safe on the surface? I feel like whatever’s happening down here, it can’t be that isolated. What if people are changing up top, too, changing themselves, and then changing others?”
“It would be a slaughterhouse. Manhattan would be toast.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks,” John said. “For bringing me down. You’re a real pal.”
“Just getting your expectations in line, buddy. We have bigger issues than if you’re going to write some news story and I’m going to get a new job.”
“Well, crap.”
“So, if we go around the subway tracks, we should be able to avoid whatever mess is happening ahead. I didn’t like the sound of that scream,” Michael said. “Easiest way is to cut through the sewers.”
“I expect this is gonna get nasty.”
“Not necessarily. Sewers aren’t giant rivers of floating shit, at least not on this level.”
“Then let’s try and stay on this level, get up top, have a look around, and figure out where we stand.”
“Sounds good to me,” Michael said, turning a corner and coming to another set of rungs in the wall, acting as a ladder down to the next floor. “But we’re going to have to go down in order to go up.”
He stepped down the ladder, turning his head back and forth as he did so, scanning the area for any sign of the creatures. Michael heard water dripping, the sound reverberating through the tunnels. And underneath this sound was the gentle resonance of running water. Once he reached the platform, he climbed off and motioned for John to follow him. The journalist moved swiftly, almost jumping onto the ladder.
In the distance, they heard the sound of one of the creatures howling. Neither could discern how far away the monster was by the noise.
But the beasts had certainly inhabited the tunnels.
They’d practically made them their own.
Chapter 21
1:35 p.m.
General Burns’ orders erupted like machine-gun fire, rat-a-tat, fast paced, and sprayed in all kinds of directions. Nicole listened intently, trying to keep her mind on her work, on gathering together what they needed, and not checking her cell phone every other minute. She had seen the text Sandy had sent her, “HURRY.” With no further information, she was assuming the worst – her lover was trapped in the car, surrounded by those things, and it was only a matter of time before they gained entrance and killed her. It made Nicole move faster, her agile mind tripping over itself to satisfy the next item on the general’s agenda.
Burns barked, “Get down to the hotel safe and get all the arms and ammunition you can retrieve from our supply. You know what they give us when we travel, just in case of this very thing happening. We’ll need all the firepower we can get if we’re infiltrating the city. Next, we’ll need food, something high energy and high carbohydrate. Buy whatever you can from the motel snack machines, even if it’s just granola bars and M & Ms. Our ride should be arriving within fifteen minutes on the roof. I had to tell Tom what’s going on, and I know we weren’t supposed to inform civilians, but we’re gonna need a way in and out. He’s using his best ’copter. Now, get to it. I need to let a few people above me know what’s happening.”
Nicole, startled, said, “What? We’re letting the brass know we’re going AWOL?”
“Just a select few of my friends,” he said, pulling a cigar out of his shirt pocket. “They can cover for us for a few hours if any commanders get too antsy about our whereabouts.” When she nodded, Burns scowled at her. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Hop to it, soldier. I wanna get in and out before anyone notices we’re even gone.”
She grabbed her vest, jacket, and quickly emptied out her gym bag and Sandy’s before running to the elevator. As she descended to the lobby, she was treated to the 101 Strings version of “Sounds Like Teen Spirit.” The ride seemed to take an eternity. Finally, when the bell went off and the doors opened, she sprinted for the gift shop.
The place was loaded with junk food, mostly unhealthy and full of artificial crap, but she discovered several packets of nuts, granola, power bars, and threw in some potato chips and candy for good measure. Bottled water was always a good idea, even if they were going into a place that still had good plumbing, so she added two bottles for each of them. At the checkout, she saw a vending machine with beef jerky and Slim Jims in it, so she purchased a few of those as well. She placed all the food in a plastic bag inside Sandy’s gym tote.
As she approached the front desk, she started talking, her words fast and clipped. “I need to get into the hotel safe.”
“If you’ll wait just a minute, I’ll…” a brunette woman said as she finished writing a message on a Post-it note.
Nicole growled. “There isn’t time. Safe. Me. You. Now.”
Her tone must have been gruffer than she’d expected. The woman straightaway opened a drawer and withdrew two keys. She led Nicole to the safe after inspecting her ID and hotel key card. She was admitted to the locked room within two minutes, and Nicole was inventorying the cache of weapons the Army made them carry around “just in case.” Looks like the Army was right on the money, this time.
She grabbed an M-9 pistol and put it in her vest pocket, along with a couple of magazines of 9mm bullets. She also placed one M-9 in the gym bag designated for Burns and then sprinkled a handful of magazines on top. She grabbed a Swiss Army knife for each of them – always good for when the bullets ran out. Kevlar vests were next. She donned hers immediately under the light jacket she was wearing with all the pockets, and she tossed the other one in Burns’ bag. Next, she pulled all six of the grenades from the shelf, putting two in the pockets of her vest and the rest in the gym bag. A portable GPS device followed, in case they got turned around in the subway.
Then, she pulled out her baby, her weapon of choice – the M110 sniper rifle. Rethinking her decision, she realized she probably wouldn’t need anything with that kind of distance accuracy, but she’d need something that could mow down a row of the Lycanthropes if they rushed her. So she chose the M-4 carbine assault rifle. She gave it a kiss on its barrel before she strapped it over her right arm. She checked the sights, then grabbed one for Burns and put four STANAG magazines in her jacket, which was becoming heavy and awkward. Nicole tossed the other six STANAG mags of 5.56 mm bullets into a bag for Burns. Finally, she tossed in a couple of heavy-duty flashlights, since they were heading for the subway.
It was a lot of firepower for a quick in and out, but she wondered if it was enough. There were a lot of variables involved in the rescue mission – how many Lycanthropes would they face, how quickly could the helicopter get them inside the city, how close would they drop to the 42nd Street entrance to the subway? She was feeling the weight of all the ammo and weapons and food supplies in her vest, and she didn’t want to impair movement, so she decided it would have to be enough.
She waved at the desk clerk, who moved over and closed the safe, locking it carefully. When the hotel employee got a look at the artillery she was wearing, she did a double take.
“This something to do with what’s happening over the river?” she asked. “You some kind of special forces or something?”
“Or something,” Nicole replied, heading for the elevator.
She punched a few keys and was on her way to the roof. The whole trip downstairs to the lobby and the safe had only taken her five minutes. She got off on the top floor and saw the stairs leading to the rooftop of the hotel. She ascended, carting General Burns’ bag of goodies along with her.
When she stepped outside, she saw General Burns waving a helicopter down to a marked helipad painted on the concrete roof. The blades were stirring up a windstorm, and she
sprinted to be by Burns’ side.
She looked over the railing that surrounded the rooftop, and she was graced with a fantastic, unobstructed view of Manhattan. Black smoke billowed from several of the buildings, and broken windows were everywhere. She saw flames licking at a few skyscrapers, including the top of the Empire State. The bridges were little more than blackened, twisted metal, and the planes still flew by every few minutes, circling the parameters of the island. She saw cars, cabs, and buses abandoned or wrecked in the streets. Debris and bodies floated in the river’s current.
The chorus of screams could be heard all the way across to Brooklyn, thin, carried by the wind, until the helicopter touched down and stirred up the air even more.
It looked like the end of the world.
Chapter 22
1:45 p.m.
Inside the subway car, parked in the middle of the tunnel, and only illuminated by a demonic red emergency light, Sandy sneaked a glance out the window. The conductor of the train had stopped screaming several minutes ago, but no one in her little band of survivors had dared to peek outside the car and see what was happening. Now and again, a shadow passed across the windows as something moved in front of one of the fading red lights.
Most of their group appeared to have calmed down for the time being. Beth had shushed Alice, who seemed to have gone into a state of shock – thankfully, a quiet state. Howard and Sylvia sat next to each other, with Sandy a little farther down the wall. Craig remained across from her, his eyes wide with fear, but he seemed alert if barely maintaining his composure.
Sandy had attempted texting Nicole a few more times, but the messages were going to her inbox. Either her lover was going to get a whole bunch of desperate sounding messages at once or else she had her phone turned off. Sandy looked down at the Apple bag on the seat above her. The iPad had seemed like a great gift at the time, but if transmissions were being blocked, it would end up as a nifty paperweight.
Things had been quiet for several minutes in a row outside the train, and Sandy, looking out at the tracks, didn’t see any of the creatures waiting around. She sighed with relief.
“Anything?” Craig asked.
She answered, “I don’t see any of them. That doesn’t mean they aren’t lurking in the shadows or are gathered somewhere in the train…”
“…eating that poor man,” whispered Sylvia. “My God, he sounded… he sounded…”
“Yeah, I know,” Sandy said. “My girlfriend said she was on her way to rescue us. We should just stay here and remain quiet.”
Those weren’t Nicole’s exact words, but the intention was there.
In the distance, down the dark tunnel, something metal overturned, clanging loudly. Sandy ducked her head back down behind the plastic orange and tan seats. She waited a moment before looking up again. There was something moving in the dark end of the tunnel, but she couldn’t make out what it was – human or beast or animal. She could just see, almost merely sense, that something was moving.
“What is it?” Howard asked, sneaking his shaved head above the seat so he could get a look.
“I don’t know,” Sandy said. “But I don’t think I like it.”
There was another sound, a rattling noise, high-pitched and metallic. The motion occurred again in the inky blackness farther down the tracks, possibly on the other side of the barrier. It seemed a bit closer this time, as though something was moving toward the subway car. Sandy held her breath.
“It sounds familiar,” Sylvia muttered. “I know that sound.”
In a moment, Sandy saw an elderly woman covered in at least four sweaters and a sock hat pushing a grocery cart out of the shadows and into the glow of a red light. She moved at a leisurely pace, and her cart wobbled, almost overturning every time she hit a bump. She was smoking a cigarette, and the end sparked brightly when she inhaled.
“It’s just a homeless woman,” Sandy said, breathing comfortably for the first time in what seemed like minutes.
“We need to get her in this car,” Beth said. “My God, she’s out there in the open where any of those things could get her.”
Craig said, “How do we know one of them hasn’t already? She could be bitten, scratched, wounded. She could turn as soon as we get her in here.”
“And how would we get the doors closed?” Sylvia asked. “Once they’re pried open, how do we close them again?”
“We can’t just leave her out there,” Howard said. “Can we? I mean, can we really do that? What kind of people would that make us?”
“The kind that survive,” Craig said.
The old woman kept moving forward, shoving hard and muttering to herself as she bounced the cart along. Sandy could now see the piles of black plastic bags in the pushcart, piled three or four high, probably everything the old woman owned.
Sandy spotted movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see a dark mass heading directly for the old woman, something low to the ground and huge. As it got closer, the crone must have sensed something, and she turned slowly to peer into the darkness of the tunnel behind her. Leaning over, the old woman squinted, and then she spun on her heels and started running toward the subway train, leaving her possessions behind her. Sandy was surprised at the bag lady’s burst of agility and speed.
When the mass swarmed into the red light of the tracks, Sandy saw the horde of mutant rats, hundreds or thousands of them, scrabbling after the woman. They dragged their naked, pulpy tails behind them. Their black talons scraped along the cement ground, loud when in such a vast hunting party. Their mouths opened and closed as they hurtled toward the woman, exposing rows of shark-like fangs.
“Jesus God,” Howard said as they just kept appearing from the tunnel. “How many of them are there?”
“Must be thousands,” Sandy said.
The creatures kept appearing, a multitude clamoring on top of each other, a sea of brown and black fur and teeth and claws. They descended upon the old woman, who fell beneath them, screaming for a moment before being completely obscured from view. All Sandy could see were the swarming mutants as they completely covered the woman. Her protestations stopped abruptly, after only a second or two.
But the rats kept coming, flooding out of the tunnel until the entire track was covered by their wriggling bodies. They moved fast, even for rats, and they soon arrived at the subway train.
Sandy backed away from the glass, asking, “Can they get in through the windows? What about the doors?”
“I think we’re safe for now,” Craig answered.
The vermin surrounded the train car, sensing the food on the other side of the metal and glass. They pressed their faces against the doors, stood on their hind legs and scratched at the silver metal exterior, attempting to reach the prey inside. Several of them had bloodstains around their mouths and forepaws.
Sandy saw the whole tunnel’s floor was a writhing brown and black mass. The beasts scrambled on top of each other, straining to get to something to devour, something to fill their aching stomachs. They acted on instinct, like a pack of wolves instead of rats.
They were stumbling on top of one another at the doors, six or seven rats high, each struggling to get inside the train compartment. Their claws scratched along the glass, and some had discovered the rubber divider that ran down the middle of the doors. They gnawed at it, but it was too small an area for them to get their entire heads through, let alone their fat, swollen bodies. They stuck their muzzles through the chewed-through spaces, spitting out rubber, gnashing their enormous teeth.
Alice started to scream, even though Beth held the girl close to her. Sandy had to admit to herself that she wanted to let loose, too, but she held her own shouts inside, looking around the car for some sort of weapon. She saw nothing that could be of use, so she grabbed Nicole’s present, the iPad still in its box, and she started swinging it at the snouts of the creatures as they poked them through where the rubber divider had been. They had gnawed it completely away from the ground to f
our or five feet up. The iPad felt comfortingly solid as she swung it, bashing in several of the creatures’ noses. Small, sharp fangs were dislodged, and they clattered to the floor. Still more of the giant rodents took the place of the first, shoving forward until they mashed their faces into the car. She swung again, grinned when rat blood splattered across the door.
Behind her, she heard a fumbling sound, and she turned briefly to see Howard and Craig shoving Craig’s cloth suit jacket into the gap created by two of the rats trying to get into the car. Howard looked around and grabbed Sylvia’s environmentally friendly cloth shopping bags, dumping the contents onto another seat.
Sandy swiped at the new snouts again, crushing the top one, which withdrew. It was soon replaced by another.
All around the subway car, the mutant creatures swarmed. They were five or six deep, blocking out everything below waist level, and they kept chewing on the rubber at the doors and windows.
Howard and Craig swung the jacket and the cloth bags against the door, blocking out the sight of the rats climbing on top of each other, scurrying to get closer. Howard shoved the various sacks into different holes, avoiding the rats’ chomping teeth.
“They’ll chew right through those,” Sandy said.
“But it’ll take them a while longer,” Howard explained. “Even if it’s just a few minutes…”
Alice began sobbing, the sound loud in the car, even over the sound of the rats outside. Beth searched through her purse and removed a prescription bottle of pills. Knocking two of them into the palm of her hand, she ordered Alice to gulp them down.
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