by Luis Samways
Ray looks down at his wrist. The once flashing light is not flashing anymore. The flashing had stopped for the time he had been underground, so a virus is out of the question. He’s safe underground, and if this thing was air born, he wouldn’t be safe, considering the amount of open grates and sewage pipes would have let the virus in by now, his wrist would be flashing, and he would have exploded.
The further he walks the more light he can see. It’s evident to him that he can see the maintenance area for the metro from here. It seems that New York’s underground tunnels of sewage and train tracks come quite close to each other. He already knew that anyway, it doesn’t take an historian to know that New York’s underground is just as congested as New York’s over ground’s skyscrapers and roads.
After a few more minutes of walking he decides to make his way down one of the service hatches towards the metro. He is greeted with some lighting, as the train tracks remain silent with a distant echo of the wind. The sight of the empty rows of tracks sends a shiver down his spine. He can see the dust in the air, a monument of the trains that not too long ago would rush down these parts at a hundred miles an hour. Some of them going to Brooklyn, others to Manhattan, all them going somewhere, now none of them going anywhere. He carries on walking straight down the tracks; he spots a faint light approaching. It startles him as he feels the tracks below his feet rumble. Could it be that his theory on the trains not running anymore be wrong? He stops dead in the center of the track and kneels down. He puts his dirty hand on the copper track and feels the vibrations. With every second passing he feels the vibrations grow stronger. The light that was once far away is now edging even closer to him, then the sound kicks in, a sound that Ray will never likely forget. It’s the sound of a speeding train accompanied by screams of terror. He quickly jumps off the track and rolls into a dirt ditch. The ditch is dirty with a distinct smell of wet concrete. He looks up and spots scaffolding. He realises where he is. They recently announced they were extending the underground rail network, he must be clamouring for his life in a workman’s pit. He can hear the train approach as he makes his way up to catch a glimpse of it pass by. Within seconds he sees the train pass just above him as he hugs the dirt. What surprises him isn’t the fact that the train is there at all; it’s the fact that the cabins passing him are on fire, each one of them ablaze with a tremendous heat. He can see the windows of the cabin and inside are terrorized faces of men and women screaming in pain. They smack their hands against the window as the train speeds by. The sheer heat of the train makes Ray burst out in a sweat. He can see imprints of blood on the train’s windows. Within seconds of the train reaching him, it had disappeared down the way he came, screeching in terror, on fire, while leaving a thick dense cloud of dust behind.
Tiny sparks ignite in the air as he looks up at where the train had passed. He quickly gets up and climbs out of the ditch. He turns back to see the blazing train race down the tracks. He watches it disappear into the darkness. The screams fade away but the smell of burning metal and seared flesh remain stagnant in the air. Ray turns around and is met with a startling scene. A woman is making her way down the tracks towards him; she is dragging a man with her. Ray rubs his eyes, not sure of what he is seeing. He then realises what he is seeing is real. He rushes over to the struggling woman and helps her with the man. He immediately notices the injured man has been shot, and then realises the man is wearing a police man’s uniform.
‘What happened?’ he asks the tiered looking woman
‘I found him on a stairwell next to the metro entrance on 50th’
‘He’s been shot, it looks bad,’ says Ray out of breath
‘Yeah, I know, I’m an intern’
‘A doctor?’ asks Ray
‘Yeah, well sort of, I’m Donner’
Ray smiles
‘Nice to meet you Donner, I’m Ray’
‘We need to find somewhere safe, the train tracks aren’t the ideal place right now’
‘You’re telling me, I can take you somewhere safe. A place where there are people. It’s in the sewers, there’s five of us’
‘Lead the way,’ Donner says while grasping the policeman’s arm, trying to stabilize him.
Luis Samways
Beacon of Light
Episode Two
One
‘You’ve got to control the bleeding; it’s a clean shot but a shot none the less. Put down pressure like this,’ Donner says to Ray as she shows him how to apply medical aid.
Ray follows her commands but feels overwhelmed at the sight of the police man dying in front of him. He was fine for a few minutes. They had managed to carry him off of the train tracks, but as soon as they got down to the sewers, that’s when the man started going into shock. Donner had told Ray what was happening to him but through all the excitement he can’t quite remember the exact name of this man’s condition, besides from a gunshot to the sternum, which that much is obvious at least.
‘Hold down tightly Ray, we need him alive,’ she shouts as she continues to try her best to save the man with what little supplies she has on her.
‘You got that bag from where exactly?’ asks Ray, spotting her shoulder bag wrapped tightly around her chest.
She continues to work on the man, bandaging him up.
‘From the hospital I worked in’
Ray nods, feeling as if it was a stupid question. She obviously has medical experience judging on how calm she is around the wounded man she’s treating.
‘Well you’re going to have to make those supplies last you know….God knows when we are going to come across more medicine,’ he says as he pushes down hard on the policeman’s chest.
‘I thought you said there was a group of you down the sewers?’
Ray nods again
‘Yeah there is, but we don’t have any supplies like that. I mean between the group of us we have like ten bottles of water and some minor food supplies, like candy and that. No medicine though, I should have thought of that before’
‘Well, it’s too late now. We will have to make do with what we have,’ Donner says as she relieves pressure on the man’s chest.
She stays there, kneeling. She watches as the policeman on the floor with the gunshot wound struggles for air. After a few seconds his once heaving chest slows down to an idle state.
‘He’s dead. Bullet must have nicked an artery. He bled out. I’m sorry,’ she says as if she is used to that sort of outcome,
Ray looks on at his new companion and feels an overwhelming sense of sadness. He could see how much this woman cared about saving lives. He gets up from his kneeling position overlooking the downed officer and extends his hand. Donner looks up at Ray and smiles a sad but warm smile. She grips his strong hand and gets herself up on her feet. She looks around at their surroundings and quickly refocuses.
‘How far away is the camp?’
Ray laughs
‘It’s no camp…but it isn’t that far, maybe a ten minute walk if we hurry’
‘Good, I want to meet the rest of them,’ she says
‘You will, don’t worry. I’ll get us there’
Donner picks up her bag of supplies and lets Ray lead the way into the dark tunnels of the New York sewer system.
Two
The Black Ops style army commander looks through the viewfinder of his night vision binoculars. He sees a group of armed United States marines patrolling the south bank of their barracks. The night sky glistens with stars and satellites. The US marines seen through the viewfinder don’t look like they are in a war setting, and that is because they are not. They are domestic marines. They patrol their barracks not because of the fear of attack but because they are told to by their drill instructors.
The base the covert army men are surveying is a boot camp for the fifth regiment of the United States Marine Corp. They are not in a warzone; they are situated just south of Arlington, Virginia. The base in question is the Henderson Hall base. It’s been in commission since t
he Second World War and in its present state, it is used to house the marines of Virginia and to train the future marines of the United States.
The covert army’s orders are simple. Take the base hard, and take it fast. Anything less than that would be unsatisfactory. Mr Conway has assured them that the element of surprise will be in their favour. With the US worrying about people self-combusting in New York and other cities, it gives the covert army and Mr Conway himself, the chance to strike at their true targets; The United States itself.
The army commander draped in black with war paint on his face puts his binoculars down on the dirt mound in front of him. He turns around and whistles quietly. A slight rustling sound is heard in the bushes as he looks on in anticipation. A few seconds pass and a large group of men spanning the whole south bank of the Henderson Hall outpost emerge through the brush. There are at least two hundred and fifty armed men. Each of them has an assault rifle strung around their necks. All of them have the same outfit on. The left shoulder of the army commander dons a patch that reads “The Covert Militia”
Three
48th street is nothing but a graveyard today. After the attack on the street a few hours prior, no one dares walk those streets today. They couldn’t if they wanted to, seeing that the FBI are on task, trying to determine what happened to the people on 48th that fateful morning. One of the detectives in question patrolling the area for clues is Jesse Manteo, a New York homicide detective with deep roots towards the Native Americans of yesteryear. He’s a young guy, long hair and bares a certain resemblance to a rock star, even though he lacks the good looks. He’s sipping his Mocha Latte on the cusp of 48th overlooking the destruction left behind by the armed covert army. His partner Ricky Pastori approaches Jesse with a grim look on his face.
‘I have bad news Jesse, all the CCTV has been taken out,’ says Ricky as he too sips on a Starbucks coffee he has in his hand.
‘Well I figured that much at least, I mean how couldn’t they take the CCTV out? They shot the whole place up. I’ll be surprised if there is a single piece of equipment on this street that doesn’t have a bullet hole in it’
‘Why do you think they hit 48th street like this?’ asks Ricky
‘I don’t know; I don’t even know who these guys are. Why would anyone hit 48th anyway? I mean, it wasn’t a robbery that much is clear. They had the chance to hit some of the most expensive shops in the world and they didn’t steal one thing. It was a slaying, a slaying of the masses,’ Says Jesse
‘The FBI says they think it could be a militia of some sorts’
‘How do they figure that out?’
‘I don’t know, you know how these guys work. They assume something right off the bat. It could be any number of things. Terrorism springs to mind,’ says Ricky
Jesse shakes his head in disagreement.
‘Well, terrorists or not, I’m sure the many people who died on this street today would tell you they were terrified when it happened’
Suddenly a street officer on the scene whistles at the two detectives from across the street. Ricky and Jesse look at each other in curiosity as they approach the beckoning man.
The officer looks flushed of colour, over worked and sweating; he doesn’t say anything, he just points at the ground. A graffiti styled mural has been tattooed on the floor. It reads: We will find you
Ricky looks at his partner who remains fixated on the message on the floor.
‘What’s up with that?’ Ricky asks as he continues to look at his rattled partner Jesse
‘It doesn’t matter what it means, all that matters is that we find them before they do anything else’
Four
Mrs Novik screams at the top of her lungs. She feels as if she has been locked up in her cell for an eternity. It’s the first time in her life that she finds herself locked up with no freedoms. She has never imagined a time in which she couldn’t go outside without it being yard time. She could never imagine a time where to eat, she would have to shackle her wrists up before they fed her. She could never imagine a time in which being a prisoner was a reality. But now is the time where she need not imagine, because these things are happening to her at this very moment in time. There is no time anymore. Just day and night. Freedom and prison. She only has three of those things, but the one she longs for the most is freedom. It doesn’t seem to be heading her way any time soon.
She screams one more time. She wants the guards to know how she feels. She wants the world to know how she feels. She can’t fathom a justice system that would stick an innocent woman in prison, but she knows it is possible now. She grits her teeth hard, practically grating off her enamel. She’s lost her sense of self. She doesn’t care anymore. Being the good housewife hasn’t paid off so why should she be the good prisoner?
‘Come on you fucking bastards! Give me my dinner already!’ she screams.
She’s working herself up into a frenzy. She can’t wait to see the smug pricks bring her her dinner. She wants them to experience the hell she is going through, and by god is she going to make sure they know how hot it is in hell!
‘Come on you cunts! Come on! Come to mama!’ she screams, rattling at her bars like a rabid dog in a kennel.
It’s safe to say that after a certain amount of time every prisoner cracks. The guilty ones crack just as hard as the innocent ones, but the only difference between those two types of prisoners is the innocent ones tend to become just as guilty as the rest. They are the troublesome ones, the ones that flog shit at the guards. The ones that punch an officer for walking by their cells. These are the prisoners who want to get the correctional system back for their wrong incarceration.
‘Are you shitting yourselves yet? You should be, because when I see you I’m going to make sure you shit yourselves good and proper, you hear me?’ She screams
It’s safe to say that Mrs Novik is far from innocent now. She once was, but even these prison walls will make you into a guilty woman whether she likes it or not.
Five
Mr Conway is holding a meeting in his aquarium styled office. The marine life in his fish tanked walls give the atmosphere of the room a tainted smell of fear. Maybe it’s the fear of one of the walls cracking and a ten foot shark being let loose from its prison. Maybe it’s the fear of Mr Conway exploding in a fit of rage as he has done in the past. Either way, the people attending the meeting are far from calm.
Mr Conway sits at the end of the table like the spearhead of an army overlooking his cowardly advisors with distain and authority. Mrs Harriet sits at his right, like a noble warrior who has earned the right to sit so close to perfection. The rest of the seats occupied at the table belong to the yes men and women of the operation. Each one of them dressed in smart clothes but they don no smiles on their faces. It’s evident from the cold atmosphere in the room that bad news is to follow.
‘So spit it out then, tell me what was so important that I had to open my doors to you lot,’ Mr Conway says as he sips on his whisky, his eyes never leaving the gaze of his minions in suits.
‘It’s the Beacons sir’ one brave woman says from across the table opposite him
‘What about them?’ he asks
‘Well, we have picked up some stragglers’
‘Where?’
‘The New York sewer system’
Mr Conway laughs
‘And that’s supposed to be a problem because?’
‘Well, there are at least ten people underground now. Not all of them seem to be in the same area. Some of them are in the east section and some of them are wandering by themselves’
‘I don’t see the problem’ he says impatiently, tapping his fingernails on the big oak desk
‘Well, if they form a group then it’s just a matter of time before there are more of them. They could form a rebel group of sorts, and once the aboveground is cleared of resistance we could face a rebellion from under the streets’
‘Look, I hardly think ten people under the streets of New Yor
k counts as a rebellion’
‘Yes, I understand, but they aren’t the only ones sir’
‘What do you mean?’
‘New Jersey has around eight hundred people underground,’ the woman says calmly
‘Eight hundred? How the hell did that happen?’
‘Well, the beacons went off at a sports game and they managed to find their way underground’
Mr Conway gets up from his seat while donning a red face. The group of men and women at the meeting brace themselves for an outburst from the boss.
‘I don’t care how you do it, or when you do it, but make sure these underground rats are dealt with. I can’t have eight hundred people roaming underground. Eight hundred people is enough to overthrow a city, let alone defend one,’ Mr Conway says calmly
‘We can’t be sure if the underground folk have weapons, but I assume they do,’ interrupts a man in a General’s uniform
‘Well, so do we, so at least it will be a fair fight,’ hisses Mr Conway
Six
New Jersey, East Rutherford, Met Life Stadium
Sammy Banes steps up onto the Bud Light crate in front of the mob of survivors. An audible sound of dissatisfaction is heard through the crowd as he tries to beckon their attention. He puts two fingers in his mouth and wolf whistles loudly. The crowd of people in front of him quieten down as the inspirational leader takes his fingers out of his mouth and raises his hands.