by JJ Pike
Jo cuffed Gail to the radiator then dressed her wounds, turning the facts of the day over in her head. Aggie had killed Arthur. Self-defense, no question. She and Rayton had gotten rid of the body. Practical solution to a practical problem. Gail had come back, in search of silver. Perhaps based in fact, but more likely a fabrication of Arthur’s making. All she needed to do in order to keep a lid on things was convince Gail there was no silver and no point coming back. Best play it light.
Jo covered Gail’s wound with a piece of gauze and taped the edges down. “Your husband was mistaken.”
Gail’s face fell.
“There’s no silver here. I’m going to say it one more time. Go away and don’t come back.”
Gail didn’t respond.
Jo tugged at the cuffs, making them clank against the radiator. “Look at me and tell me you understand and agree. You’re not coming back.”
Gail nodded.
“Say it.”
“I’m not coming back.”
Jo undid the cuffs and escorted Gail to her car. Man, she had to be dog tired not to have spotted that down the driveway. “Say it again.”
“I will not come back.” Gail eased into the driver’s seat. “Can I have my license back?”
Jo shook her head.
Gail backed out down the driveway and disappeared behind a wall of trees.
The small voice in Jo’s head spoke up, louder this time. “Mistake. You didn’t take action and it’s going to cost you.”
Jo traipsed back to the house, released Reggie from his leash, and poured herself a double scotch. She was tired of the voices in her head telling her how much she messed up. She’d diverted all manner of mayhem. Now it was time to sleep. She downed her drink and poured herself another. “It’s not like the problems won’t be here tomorrow. Gail is small potatoes. It’s Rayton I need to worry about.”
Rayton. What a damned mess. She was going to have to let her boss know that he’d blown her cover. Together they could decide what to do about him. She deserved one night of sleep. She emptied her glass in hopes there’d be no dreams of failure, no pictures of her dead husband rising to the surface of her mind, nothing to remind her that she was, in fact, a colossal failure.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alice pulled Barb in tight. She didn’t want her going off the deep end. She could have a meltdown, wander off, fall down and drown. Half an hour ago the kid had been the model of competence, but the mention of her baby—the real one, not the plastic substitute—had sent her into a tailspin. Bi-polar maybe? Manic depressive? Unhinged in some way that required daily meds that she hadn’t taken because she’d been digging through the rubble in the subway, looking for Alice? No matter what the cause, the woman was a mess.
Blood dripped off the back step to the subway car, plinking into the water below. Why hadn’t she thought of injured passengers, bloody survivors, crushed bodies, and messy dismemberment? She wasn’t Bill. She didn’t “hope for the best.” She “planned for the worst,” because the worst was usually what happened. Why, in this instance, hadn’t she gone there? She’d imagined the passengers getting off when she’d told them to. Walking down the tracks. Making it to the subway exit. Going back to their lives with a dramatic story to tell. Not staying put and getting crushed.
#guiltyguiltyguilty
She kept her arm around Barb. “In we go,” she said. “Nice and easy.”
Barb didn’t resist. She was a walking, talking rag doll. She hauled herself onto the back of the train, seemingly oblivious to the stains on her dress and the water dripping from her shoes.
Alice was right behind her, wiping the blood from her hands, peering into the dark to see if there was a way through. She ignored a heap on the floor by the back door. She couldn’t see anything other than a human-shaped lump, its legs sticking straight out towards the plastic seats and its head covered. There was too much blood on the floor for the person to be alive. Best leave them in peace and move on. She didn’t want to see what had caused those injuries and neither did she want Barb to see them.
The seats. Plastic. She couldn’t smile in the face of such a meaningless death, but the fact that the seats hadn’t melted was a good sign. MELT wasn’t in the subway.
Barb screamed, backing up into her. “There’s a monster. Right there. I felt it.” She clawed at Alice, trying to get back to the door.
Alice held Barb’s arms pinned to her side, her voice low and steady. “There are no monsters. It’s going to be fine. One foot in front of the other. Let’s keep going.”
The hot breath on her leg made her start. Barb hadn’t been hallucinating. There was a monster in the train car with them. The creature pressed its nose into her thigh, nudged her hand, whimpered. Alice stiffened, her spine straight in spite of the pain in her back. Might as well have been H. P. Lovecraft’s octopus-faced Cthulhu for the fear it engendered in her. Of all the things they could find, it had to be a dog.
Barb collapsed to the floor, shuffling forward on her knees and burying her face in its fur. “Good girl,” she whispered. “Good girl.”
“You know this dog?” said Alice. Every nerve in her body was telling her to run, but she knew that wasn’t an option. If she ran, the beast would follow. She needed to keep it in sight at all times, not turn her back on it.
“This is Maggie-loo. She rides the train with me most mornings. Dogs aren’t allowed on trains, unless they fit in your bag. If your dog is calm, you can fit at least fifty pounds of dog in an over-the-shoulder shopping bag. Maggie was with us when we got trapped. Didn’t you see her? You must have seen her.” It was as if the dog had hit Barb’s “reset” switch and she was back.
Maggie-loo the 700-pound Pit Bull, with the jaws of steel and the teeth of adamantine, tugged gently at Alice’s sleeve. Wherever the dog wanted to take her, she didn’t want to go. She wanted to be dog-free and through the train and out in the world again.
“She wants to show us something.” Barb had the guile of a four-year-old and the wit of a ten-year-old, but she also had the heart of a trooper. She could have left Alice to die alone, but she’d come back for her. What else could Alice do, but follow the dog because Barb wanted them to do so? There was also the fact that the dog was right there. No matter which way they went, the dog was sure to follow.
“Tread carefully,” said Alice. “If the dog is still here, there might be people.” How had the dog survived? She’d been in this enclosed space the whole time. There was no food or water. That meant there had to have been a person down there with her, taking care of her.
Maggie-loo trotted ahead of them, checking in every few steps. There could be no doubt, she wanted them to see something. Alice had to be brave. She couldn’t let Barb take the lead. The girl was still mentally altered, even if she’d perked up since the dog had found them.
The roof to the last train car had caved in. They had to duck low and scoot around the serrated edges. There were wires dangling from above, trailing over their faces and backs. Even without a current running through them, they gave Alice shock after shock. She held one hand out in front of her, the other on Barb. The dog walked ahead and came back, walked ahead and came back. They were moving slowly, but Maggie-loo never lost them.
Through one door and into another car. So far, no people.
Maggie-loo whimpered, louder this time. Then she stopped. Whatever she wanted Alice and Barb to find was here. Alice wasn’t sure she wanted to see what Maggie-loo wanted her to see. The smell told a story. Human panic, much injury, probable deaths.
“Turn around, Barb,” she said. “You don’t want to see this.”
Barb didn’t budge.
“I want you to cover your eyes and pretend you’re at your cousin’s house. You can be the blind pirate for a few minutes. I’m going to try to find a cell phone so we can get some light down here, but I believe someone has died, so it’s not going to be pretty.”
“I’m fine,” said Barb. “I’ve seen the worst there is to
see. Nothing can shock me now.”
Alice stretched her arms out in front of her as if she was playing blind man’s bluff. There was a human form, she could see that much. The flesh was cold. One dead person. She patted the pockets, hoping to find a phone. It was probably going to be in his trousers. In the left pocket, she found his wallet. In the right, his phone. She swiped the screen, hoping it still had juice. It did, but as the bright beam swept over the man in front of her, Alice wished it hadn’t.
She turned the light back off again. “Are you okay?”
Barb didn’t speak.
“We press on.”
“Did Maggie-loo eat Pete?” Barb was curious rather than horrified. “She loved Pete.”
Alice didn’t want to know. The man had a chunk of flesh taken out of his arm. It could have been caused by falling debris, but it could also have been caused by a dog bite. She’d read of dogs eating their humans in extreme circumstances in a National Geographic article. Dogs were scavengers. When presented with a dead body, they might nudge their former companion looking for a response, but then move on to biting. It was all too sanitized for Alice. She knew what dogs did. They didn’t call it a dog eat dog world for nothing.
“One word,” said Paul. “Donner.”
“LOL,” said Alice. “You made me LOL.”
“What?” Barb clung to her.
She couldn’t explain her mental wanderings. It wouldn’t have made sense to Barb. Her son was alive and well in her mind and it brought her great comfort. Perhaps when they made it to the surface she’d use the dead man’s phone to call her darling son. They’d be frantic, not having heard from her for so long. She clenched the phone tight like a lucky totem, warding off evil and summoning their guardian angels, then stuck it in her pocket. It’d be safer there. She needed both hands to feel her way out of the train.
“What do we do now? Do we cover Pete? Say a prayer?”
“We press on. We don’t know what happened here, but we do what we must to survive.” Alice took Barb by the hand and shuffled away from the dead body. She’d use the phone to light their way, just as soon as they were clear of the remains.
Maggie-loo grabbed Alice’s hand in her powerful jaws. Alice froze. She could feel the hot breath, the wet tongue, the sharp teeth. She didn’t want to lose her hand. “Good girl,” she whispered. “Good, good girl. Give it back.”
Maggie-loo pulled gently. Her teeth hadn’t broken Alice’s skin. It was an invitation to stay, not an attack. Still, Alice’s heart beat a rhythm that would drown out the loudest band.
“There’s nothing I can do,” said Alice. “What was his name?”
Barb didn’t answer.
“What was Maggie-loo’s owner’s name again?”
“Pete.”
Alice turned and looked down at Maggie-loo. “Pete’s in a better place. You need to leave him now and come with us.” Dogs didn’t understand language, she knew that.
Maggie-loo didn’t release her. She tugged gently, backing up towards Pete.
“Can you make her let go?”
A groan filled the subway car. Maggie-loo spun around, barking. Her tail thwapped on Alice’s leg.
Alice had her arms around Barb just as tight as Barb had hers around Alice. The noise was terrible. Alice slipped her hand into her pocket and retrieved the phone. She slid her hand over the screen and found the light app. Good thing her kids had taught her how to use a smartphone or it would have taken forever to work out how to illuminate their surroundings.
Pete’s eyes were barely open, but his mouth moved.
Alice rushed to his side. His wound was terrible, but he’d survived. They needed to help him, bind him, get him out of there.
She swung around and checked out the rest of the subway car. She counted five bodies in all. If Pete was alive, when she’d been so sure he was dead, she had to check all of them. “Do you know how to make a tourniquet?”
Barb was already working on Pete’s wounds.
“Don’t leave him. Stay here. I’m going to check on the others.”
The ceiling looked like it was made out of tinfoil. It had buckled and folded in, crushing one person. Alice forced herself to reach into the wreckage and feel for a pulse. She’d gotten it wrong once already today. Pete had been cold to the touch, but alive. She could take nothing for granted.
She concentrated her light on the wrecked human in front of her. No one survived those wounds. Still, she forced herself to find a small entry point into the mash of metal and felt their neck. Dead. She offered up a prayer. “May you be greeted by your loved ones at the gates of Heaven.”
There were bloody footprints and paw prints all around. Someone had been busy down here. The next victim had bandages on her head and wrist. She’d been prepared. Or someone on the subway had been prepared. The blood had soaked through and slithered to the floor. It was thick and sticky, long since coagulated. Alice passed her hands over the woman’s glassy eyes, closing them against the carnage that surrounded them.
Her feet smacked as she walked from one side of the car to the other. This one was alive. How had she not checked right away? She was losing it. The boy lay on the double seat, his backpack under his head. He had his hand around his waist and was breathing hard.
“Can I look?” said Alice. “I want to help.”
“Get out while you can,” said the boy. “The water’s coming.”
Alice heard it, slapping against the underside of the train. It sounded so innocent, but she knew better. A tsunami doesn’t look like those wonderful Japanese woodblock prints from the 16th century. It isn’t a surfer’s dream, reaching 300 feet in the air, then swallowing the land in one crashing blow. It’s a gradual creep of unimaginable power that fells trees and buildings, tossing cars around as if they were sticks. The water below them could swallow them in a matter of minutes. It all depended on when the fire department managed to get the water supply that ran above this section of tunnel turned off.
“We’re going to do this together,” said Alice. “Show me your wounds.”
The boy took his hand off his stomach. There was a piece of metal jammed into him. Alice looked up. It was the same shape as the handle bars that kept New Yorkers from rattling around like pinballs. He’d been impaled on a handle bar.
“Good thing you left it there and didn’t try to get up,” she said. “That’s very smart. I want you to stay here while I check on the last person. Then we’re going to find a way for all of us to get out of here.”
Alice trained her light on the floor, following the trail of blood. The jumble of footprints thinned, making the path that last poor victim had taken clearer. She followed the smudged footprint through one set of doors into the next carriage. She flashed her light around the car. No survivors here. Nor any dead. The footprints switched. They’d been dragging their right foot. The print became a smear with the occasional hiccough where they’d thrown their injured leg forward. It was a terrible tale she read in blood.
At the end of the car was a pool of bright red. This was newer than the blood that she’d seen around Pete. Perhaps she’d been wrong to dismiss the lump of clothes at the very end of the train.
There were no footprints now, only a long smudge. They had fallen, pulling themselves down the carriage, bleeding all the way. There was a handprint, clear as day, then the awful river of blood.
Alice heard the moaning, though it was almost inaudible. It was like the voices of those girls in the shack as the wind whispered through the cracks in the wall. “Rescue me,” they said. “Rescue me.”
She knelt beside the cowering man, pulling his coat off his shoulders and reaching towards his neck.
The man had a pulse.
Chapter Twenty-Three
They were in the airport parking lot, but Arthur wouldn’t leave Bill alone. He kept fussing. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Bill threw his luggage into the trunk of his car. Mateo wasn’t in there. Mateo wasn’t going to be anywhere, eve
r again. He was gone. Dead, finished, gone.
“But are you sure you’re sure?”
Bill slammed the trunk shut. He could be as loud as he liked. There was no one here who cared. “I am fine to drive. I told you. It was the shock. You did a great job, but you can trust me. I’ll drive home and be with my family. You should do the same.”
“Tell me the plan,” said Arthur, following him round to the driver’s side.