by Laura Martin
“Follow me,” Ivan growled in my ear, and I nodded dumbly, unable to take my eyes off the troodon as it ripped into the still-thrashing hadrosaur’s side with terrifying efficiency. Ivan half dragged me to my feet, and I stumbled after him along the edge of the woods, Chaz and Todd right behind us.
Two more helicopters took off, and Ivan quickened his pace, forcing us into a full run to keep up as we skirted the edge of the meadow, where our distraction disaster was still going full tilt. He skidded to a stop, feet away from the biggest helicopter of them all. Massive, with five propellers already in motion, it sat next to an official-looking brown tent. Only one marine was standing at the helicopter’s door, holding a gun and nervously watching the swirling spectacle of fleeing hadrosaurs and fierce troodons taking place only thirty feet away. The poor man looked like there was nothing he wanted to do more than run, but he kept his feet firmly planted beside the helicopter, sweat pouring down his face to disappear into the black body armour he wore.
“Why didn’t you choose one of the smaller unarmed ones?” Todd whispered harshly to Ivan.
“Because there is nowhere to hide in those,” Ivan hissed back. “Now hush yourself, and let me handle this.”
“This,” Chaz muttered under her breath, “is suicide.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at a troodon that had just joined three others to rip into a dead hadrosaur.
“Ivan will figure something out,” I said.
“Not that.” Chaz frowned. “Those troodons. There has to be thirty of them now. There were only three originally. It’s a feeding frenzy. They’ve alerted every troodon in a fifty-mile radius with the racket they’re making.”
“What racket?” Todd asked. As if on cue, one of the troodons let out a high-pitched shriek as it flipped a large chunk of hadrosaur thigh in the air and caught it again, shaking it back and forth in enjoyment. “Never mind,” Todd said.
“Guys?” I said, suddenly glancing around myself in a panic. “Where’s Ivan?”
“What?” Chaz said, prying her eyes away from the dinosaurs. “Wasn’t he just by you?”
We looked to the helicopter just in time to see the nervous marine drop like a stone. Ivan stepped from behind him and quickly dragged the unconscious body away from the door. Motioning for us to follow, he disappeared into the belly of the machine.
“Do we just run for it?” Todd asked.
“We need to do something,” Chaz said. “As soon as those troodons run out of hadrosaurs, they are going to notice us.” She was right. The last of the hadrosaurs had fallen, its body already swarming with the lithe forms of six troodons.
“That’s not our only issue,” I said, noticing that the brown tent next to the helicopter was beginning to rustle as the occupants inside presumably prepared to make a run for the very same helicopter as us.
“Can’t we catch a break?” Todd groaned.
“It’s now or never,” I said, and gathering all the guts I had, I grabbed Todd’s arm with one hand and Chaz’s with the other, and dragged them after me as I started a headlong sprint for the helicopter.
There was an excited squeal to our left, and I glanced away from the helicopter to see that four troodons had spotted us, and were heading our way. Luckily, the helicopter was close, and we reached it seconds later. The door was wide enough for all three of us to scramble up and onto the hard metal floor. Ivan was there a moment later, his large black gun out and on his shoulder. He fired four quick shots, and four thumps told me he’d hit his targets. Glancing back, I saw the troodons lying dead, each with a neat bullet hole through the eye. Ivan hurried us to the back of the helicopter to where a pile of boxes was held fast by netting attached to large metal rings in the floor and ceiling.
“In here,” he said gruffly, shoving us into a hollowed-out space behind the boxes. “Make yourself as small as possible.” Just then, another gunshot rang out, and I jerked my head around to look at Ivan, but his gun wasn’t drawn. The gunshot had come from outside the helicopter. “Hurry,” Ivan said gruffly, shoving Todd’s head down and pushing him in after Chaz. I was next and Ivan squeezed in last, pulling a box over to conceal the gap we’d entered through and deftly refastening the netting. Todd’s elbow dug painfully into my ribs, and the boxes had a musty metallic smell to them that made my stomach roll sickeningly. But I didn’t dare say anything because through a tiny crack in the boxes, I saw who had fired those gunshots.
The Noah, surrounded by heavily armed marines, had exited the big brown tent and was heading straight for our helicopter.
“This is the Noah’s helicopter?!” I gasped.
“Not another word,” Ivan breathed. “If we’re caught, we’re dead.”
“What’s going on?” Todd whispered. “I can’t see anything.”
“Shhhhh,” Ivan and I both hissed, and I watched as the marines, Kennedy at their head, manoeuvered the Noah deftly to the helicopter, gunning down five more troodons and adding them to Ivan’s original four. The Noah looked completely unflustered, marching along with the supreme confidence of a man who knew himself to be safe. It was unnerving. The marines reached the helicopter without incident, and one of them helped the Noah inside before the rest of them piled in, the last one slamming the door shut.
“All clear,” the one closest to us said into the radio on his shoulder, and another marine pushed his way to the front to slip into the pilot’s seat, flipping switches.
“Where’s Mathews?” barked General Kennedy.
“Most likely dead, sir,” answered another marine. “There were four dinosaurs gunned down by the helicopter entrance.”
“Impressive shooting,” said the first marine. “Right through the eye. Did we know Mathews was that good a shot?”
“How many men did we lose?” Kennedy asked the first marine, and I could tell that although he was trying to keep a tough exterior, the stampede and attack had shaken him.
“We don’t have a count yet, sir. But first estimates are at around twelve.”
Kennedy muttered something under his breath, and stared out of the window as the whirr of propellers picking up speed made talking nearly impossible. Todd stiffened as the engine roared, and we lifted unsteadily into the air. My own stomach plummeted as we gained altitude, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Vomiting was not an option.
“How long until we reach East Compound?” the Noah asked, and I opened my eyes to see him pulling out his port screen. The helicopter dipped suddenly, tilting in midair, and I had to brace my hands against the cool metal floor to keep myself from sliding sideways into Ivan. The skewed perspective gave me a glimpse out of the window, and I saw the distant trees and beach as the pilot turned us east.
“Just under eight hours,” the pilot called back.
“Eight hours,” Todd squeaked in my ear. I stiffened, but luckily the roaring engines drowned out everything. With no other way of communicating how stupid that had been, I dug my elbow into his ribs. He turned his head to glare at me. I glared back, shifting the tiniest amount in an attempt to relieve already cramping muscles. How would they feel eight hours from now?
The last time I’d been this scrunched I’d been eight and, determined to beat Shawn at hide-and-seek, had wedged myself into a shipping crate. A stabbing pain knifed into my chest as I thought about how much Shawn would have loved riding in a helicopter. He’d have had a million questions about how the massive black machine worked. I let out the tiniest of sighs, drawing a sharp look from Ivan.
As Lake Michigan disappeared behind us, the marines settled into the various seats along the walls of the helicopter, strapping themselves in and getting comfortable for the long trip. Knowing that comfort was out of the question, I shut my eyes. Sleep wasn’t going to happen, but with my eyes shut I could focus better on what lay ahead. The most powerful man in the world was just feet away, and I had to figure out a plan to stop him.
The next eight hours were the longest of my life. My muscles ached, my butt went numb, and the tiny space behind the bo
xes seemed to get stuffier and smaller as the hours went by. I’d hoped the marines and the Noah would talk, giving us some valuable information about what we were going to find in East Compound, but no luck. The roar of the helicopter was too loud for conversation, and most of the marines sat in silence, dozed, or stared out the window.
But as bad as things were for me, I knew the ride was worse for Todd. I had forgotten about his claustrophobia, and the longer he was confined to the tiny cramped space, the more his shoulders trembled, and the sweatier and sweatier his tunic got. To his credit, he rode out the endless minutes without saying a word. I had no idea how Chaz was doing, but Ivan seemed to be absolutely fine as he sat like an immovable statue beside me. I’d lost track of time and actually felt my eyelids starting to close when I spotted something out of the window that woke me up with a start.
Looming on the horizon were the biggest buildings I’d ever seen. Silhouetted against the setting sun, they stood like black monuments of time, immovable and impressive reminders of what the human race used to be. I sucked in an involuntary breath as our helicopter weaved its way through at least twenty of them. They all showed the damage and wear of over a century’s disuse, but they were still the most amazing things I’d ever seen. I’d thought Ivan’s ten-story building was a skyscraper. I’d been oh so wrong. These, with their tops practically disappearing into the clouds, were skyscrapers. Most of them were pockmarked with black holes where windows once sat, while others had lost entire sections, revealing their metal skeletons underneath. We passed more than one that appeared to have cracked off at the middle, toppling into its neighbors to join the deep mounds of overgrown rubble on the ground below.
So this was New York, I thought dazedly as building after building flashed by. The helicopter tilted sharply, turning around one of the buildings, and I saw the ocean for the first time in my life and had to stifle a gasp. Todd looked at me curiously, but I just shook my head as I stared at the never-ending expanse of blue. Unlike Lake Michigan, this blue was vibrant, alive and almost green in intensity. Tears pricked my eyes. I’d never realised, during all those years in North Compound, just how truly big and amazing this world was. I’d confined my dreams to fresh air and the feeling of grass beneath my feet as I wasted my days walking the same few miles of tunnel over and over again in endless repetition. I’d never fathomed that I would get to see an ocean. Or that it would be so heartbreakingly beautiful that it would make the last twelve years of my life feel like they had lacked something vital.
The helicopter dipped again, and this time I saw what I knew to be the Statue of Liberty. We’d learned about it in school, and everything it used to stand for before the dinosaurs and the pandemic changed the structure of our world forever. But like the rest of the topside world created by humans, the once-statuesque lady had fallen into disrepair. She no longer looked like the pictures I’d pulled up on my port screen a lifetime ago. Green moss climbed thickly up her left side, and the arm that was supposed to be holding a torch had cracked off, leaving her looking lopsided. And a little like Ivan, I thought, and had to stifle a giggle. Her crown was missing a few spikes, and perched on one of them was a large pterosaur, its lethal-looking beak tucked under a large webbed wing as it slept. My mouth dropped opened in shock when I saw what lay at the foot of the statue. A spinosaurus, twice the size of the one that I’d killed, was wrapped around the base of the statue, stretched out to catch the last rays of the late afternoon sun. It picked up its gigantic crocodile-like head and watched us pass, twitching its tail lazily. The sight of it made my nerves tingle as I remembered again what it felt like to be inches away from one of those things’ open mouths. The helicopter straightened out, and I lost the view of the statue and its strange occupant.
Moments later we started to slowly descend. Floor after floor of broken windows and derelict buildings flashed by the window, and I had to look away as the sight sent my already queasy stomach rolling. A metallic grinding noise filled the air, and I pressed my hands to my ears as the sound vibrated my bones and screeched through the cabin of the helicopter. We must have passed through some kind of doors, because the dim glow of sunlight disappeared, and we sank into darkness.
The helicopter thumped to a stop, sending the boxes we’d crouched behind rattling. Ivan placed a heavy hand on my shoulder to steady me. The thrumming engines were turned off, and I felt deaf in the silence. Jumping out of the helicopter with military efficiency, the marines flanked the Noah as he walked away. The pilot remained another few minutes, checking the switches and typing information onto a small port screen. Finally he left, and we were alone.
Ivan still didn’t move. The minutes stretched by into what felt like hours. Todd shifted uncomfortably beside me, but Ivan remained a statue. When I’d almost given up hope of ever leaving the helicopter, he reached over to silently unhook the netting that held the boxes in place. A gust of cool recirculated and filtered air wafted past me, and the familiar smell brought memories of North Compound rushing back. East Compound had the same air I’d grown up on, devoid of all the flavour and depth of the topside air.
Ivan silently eased the boxes covering our hiding spot aside and, motioning for us to stay put, slipped out. He was gone only a minute before he was back, waving a hand to show we were supposed to follow him. Moving was painful. Every muscle I had and even some I didn’t know I possessed seemed to have frozen in the tiny scrunched position I’d assumed for eight hours. It took everything I had not to yelp in pain, but I followed Ivan as quickly as my howling muscles would allow.
Silently, we followed Ivan through the abandoned helicopter and out into a massive room. Ten other helicopters sat around us on the cool stone floor, each of them shiny and ready for takeoff. In the far corner was the black plane I’d watched drop off mail and supplies back when I’d believed it was the only transportation the human race had left.
Ivan didn’t waste time staring at the helicopters; he was already running on silent feet towards one of the large dark tunnels at the far end of the room. As I scrambled after him, Chaz and Todd at my heels, I couldn’t help but compare the tunnel to the narrow ones of my own North Compound. It was at least two or three times their size.
Down the centre of the tunnel were two parallel seams of white concrete, marking where the old metal subway tracks had been removed over a hundred years ago. The walls were squared off with thick pillars of concrete embedded every few feet to support the skyscrapers that still towered above. Here and there pipes ran along the walls, poking in and out of the cracked concrete like worms. Some of the pipes were obviously original, but newer pipes had been patched in over the years, snaking along the roofline and twisting into the older pipe network like shiny imposters. The entire thing was incredibly fascinating to me. North Compound’s tunnels had been built for the transportation of people, but these tunnels had a history and a life all of their own. They spoke of past progress and present decay, and I wished I had time to slow down and really look at them, but it took everything I had to keep up with Ivan as he raced on silent feet through the dark tunnel.
“Where is everyone?” Chaz whispered, her voice swallowed up by the vast emptiness of the tunnel.
“Probably in bed,” I said. “If it’s anything like North Compound, they probably have some sort of a curfew.” Ivan shot us a look over his shoulder that very clearly told us to be quiet, and we obeyed.
Ten minutes later, he stopped, running his hand along the wall of the tunnel. There was a dull click followed by the whine of rusty hinges, and a narrow concrete door opened inward. Made to look like the surrounding concrete, it had blended in seamlessly with the tunnel. Ivan pulled us into it and closed the door. He felt around the side of the wall and flicked on a light to reveal a small circular room. The floor was covered in 150 years’ worth of dust and bits of crumbled concrete. A rusted ladder was attached to the far wall, leading up to a square metal entrance hatch fifteen feet above us.
“What is this place?” Todd as
ked, looking around. He was shivering, his sweat-drenched and sleeveless jumpsuit obviously not doing much to keep out the ever-present chill that came with living belowground. It was amazing how quickly I’d forgotten what it felt like to have that damp cold in your bones.
“This is one of the emergency access points,” Ivan said. “They were put in for the mechanics to access broken-down subway cars or to evacuate passengers in case of emergency. They are located every few miles along the tunnels.”
“Miles?” Todd squeaked. “How big is this place?”
“Gigantic,” I answered before Ivan had a chance. “East Compound is by far the largest of all the compounds.”
“North, South, and East Compound were all created to house the human race in case of a nuclear war,” I explained, trying to remember everything I’d learned in my history lessons. “East was created using the underground subway system already in place in New York City. The pandemic wiped out most of the population, but enough people were left to make the underground portions of the city habitable.”
Chaz wrinkled her nose. “Why would they want to stay?”
“Space,” Ivan said. “The subway tunnels allowed people to spread out. Although most of the population is fairly concentrated for convenience’s sake.”
“How many people live here?” Chaz asked.
“Around three hundred,” Ivan said, “although I haven’t been here in almost twelve years, so that number has probably changed.” His eyes darkened and flicked momentarily to me, and I knew he was thinking about the last time he’d been here. It had been the day my mom, his only child, was murdered trying to escape this very compound, leaving me behind with my dad, who hid all of it from me for twelve years. A fact that still stung.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed those melancholy thoughts aside. We didn’t have a lot of time left before the Noah put his horrendous plan into action, and we still needed to locate and free Todd’s village, a task that now seemed a lot harder than I’d originally thought. It could take days, weeks even, to search every corner of this compound, and we might not have weeks.