City of Savages (14 page)

The men’s words hang in the air for a moment, and I watch Mom fold into herself as she often does, debate with her own demons. “I’ve seen the monsters down here myself,” she finally answers.

This is new information.

“It was a long time ago, yes. But the tunnel feeders are real.” Mom pauses. “We need to find another escape route downtown.”

Lerner shakes his head, his silver hair sparkling under the torchlight. “I think Sam’s right on this one, Sarah. Better the devils we don’t know in this case, than the devil we’ve met.”

Phee and I exchange a look. I know my sister’s thinking about the Park’s devil too, just like I am: Rolladin’s lies, her assassination orders given to her warlords in Belvedere Castle. Not to mention our betrayal, our shootout in the zoo, and us flying through the Carlyle, battling teams of guards on our heels.

“Mom, we need to go with the guys on this one,” Phee says what I’m thinking. “It’s the only way.”

Mom looks to me hopefully for backup, but I just shake my head.

“Well, I guess I’m outnumbered,” she snaps. But then she takes a deep breath and grabs each of our hands. “All right. You two stay close.”

We hoist ourselves onto the platform from the tracks, one by one, passing the torches forward until our entire squad has risen. By torchlight, I can just make out the black plaque of writing on the far, white-brick wall:
68TH STREET—HUNTER COLLEGE
.

As we walk past the college stop, I swear I hear a low, long wail. A soft scuffling, like pattering feet.

“Quiet,” Mom whispers. She grabs my hand and motions for Phee to come closer. “You hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything—,” Lerner starts, but Sam shushes him.

“Listen.”

It grows, moves closer to us, the tiny wail building into a full-on whimper.

“Ryder, you’ve got that bow?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.”

“Hold it like I taught you,” Sam says, as he supports Lerner on his injured side. “Get ready to take aim.”

Ryder moves forward on the platform, towards the approaching noise. It has to be a feeder. Is there one?
Many?

Phee takes her gun out of her pocket and moves to join Ryder.

“No way,” Mom grabs her. “You stay here.”

“Who are you?” Sam calls into the darkness. “Show yourself, or we’ll shoot.”

But the only thing that answers is a moan, and then a breathless panting.

“Last chance,” Sam calls. “You hear me? I’m counting to three. One . . . two . . .”

And then, finally, from the darkness comes a tiny, hesitant answer:

“Are the Millers with you?”

23    PHEE

It’s Trevor.

I don’t know how, but it’s Trevor.

I never thought I’d be so happy to see him.

We pull him from the tracks onto the platform. He’s shivering, eyes wild, spooked like he’s been chased by ghosts.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mom shakes him. “Why would you
ever
come down here alone?”

Then she gives him a tight, suffocating hug.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Trevor whimpers. Under the torchlight, I see he has a few nicks and bruises, probably from falling as he stumbled through the tunnels. What the heck did he do, follow us down here? Just hope he ran into us? I knew Trevor had a few screws loose, but I didn’t think he was suicidal.

I hate to admit it, but I give him some credit.

“I woke up to all this commotion at the Carlyle, shooting and everything, and I cracked open the door. You guys were running into the street with these guys I didn’t know. I got scared. . . . I thought you might be in danger.”

“So what, you were going to rescue us?”

“Phee,” Mom shushes me. “Let him finish.”

“No—I—I didn’t think I’d be able to do anything. I just thought—”

He’s getting all worked up, so Mom starts stroking the top of his silky head. “Calm down, Trev, okay? I’m not mad. I just would never want you to get hurt. You’re too important to me. Take a breath, tell us what happened.”

He takes a deep breath. “I just thought—there goes my family. My sort-of family. I don’t know what I was thinking. Lauren’s going to flip when she checks my room tomorrow.” He shakes his head. “I just panicked and snuck out after the whorelords. I’ve been trying to track you, but I couldn’t keep up and I got lost and scared and—”

“Send the kid home,” Sam says.

“Excuse me?” Mom answers.

“I said send the runt back to that spooky old hotel you’re all penned up in. We can’t handle any more kids in tow.”

“This boy is practically family,” Mom turns to Lerner and argues. “My best friend’s his guardian, and he’s got no one else.” She takes another step towards him and drops her voice. “Please, I’ve left him before and it nearly ate me alive. I swore I’d never do it again. If he goes back now—”

“Lerner, don’t even think about it,” Sam jumps in. “Helping her and her kids was one thing—”

“You keep calling us
kids
,” I say. “But we’re not much younger than you—”

“—but turning into a traveling day care is another. This one goes home. Or game over. We leave them behind.”

I meet Trevor’s stare, and he mouths me a silent,
Sorry
. I shake my head. I still don’t know how he managed to find us. He’s already come so far, it’s just so unfair to turn him back around. Not to mention he’ll probably get caught sneaking back into the Carlyle, and he’ll be punished for sure. Whippings, definitely jail time.

Plus, as much as I can’t stand the kid when he’s around, the possibility of never seeing him again really bothers me. No more late-night street-fight reenactments in our Carlyle room as Mom and Lauren shush us. No more gossip sessions during midday meals.

The thought brings me back to the last time Sky and I were in the fields with Trev, actually. How he was selling himself as this tough guy of the slaughterhouses. Maybe Trev’s bragging wasn’t totally pointless. ’Cause for as one-way as Sam is, he’s obviously not stupid—he knows how to survive. I’ve just gotta convince him that Trev will help, not hurt, our cause.

It’s a long shot, clearly.

“We could use him,” I say cautiously to Sam. “You lost a buddy, in the zoo, right? And if we’re traveling by boat, we’ll need a good team. Far as I see it, we need as many able bodies as we can get.”

“He’ll just be another mouth to feed,” Sam snaps.

“Yeah, but he can help with food, too. He’s resourceful,” I lie through my teeth. Trev’s a lot of things, but resourceful ain’t one of them. “He knows how to skin an animal, and he’s one of the best young hunters in the Park. Even though he looks small, he’s strong. And we’re going to need a strong crew.”

Sam studies Trevor but keeps his face unreadable. It’s the first time he’s not wearing some scowl or smirk, though, so I know we’re making progress.

“Come on, Sam,” Ryder says slowly. “He’s a kid. And he’s all alone.”

Sam’s face changes for a split second—looks more like Ryder’s, softer or something. But by the time he grabs the bow, it passes. “There’s being a Good Samaritan,” he mumbles to Ryder, “and then there’s just being dumb.”

But he doesn’t fight us anymore. He just breathes this big put-on sigh and starts walking into the tunnels.

Ryder shoots me a smile, then follows his brother. But the smile sets something off inside me, a warm buzz that runs from my shoulders to my fingertips.

“One thing’s for sure, Phoenix-of-mine,” Mom throws her arm around my waist. “At least one of us is resourceful.”

We get back to trekking downtown. The plan is to take what Mom calls the 6 line all the way to city hall, wherever that is exactly, and then wait for the right time, make our way to the surface, and regroup at our summer place on Wall Street. Sam was pushing to head straight into Brooklyn through the tunnels to board his boat. But since Mom thinks staying underground that long is way too dangerous, and since she and Lerner will need some care anyway, we settle on making a stop on the surface.

I don’t say this out loud, but I’m relieved. The idea of just getting on a boat and leaving everything, and everyone, we know panics me. I know this might sound lame, but I’m not ready to leave this city . . . or I don’t want to. I know Sky’s all set on finding this perfect paradise, but as far as I’m concerned, we’ve already got one.

But I don’t argue now. It’s not worth it. At this point, we need to take one step at a time, and save the fight for when we get downtown.
If
we get downtown.

The college stop becomes 58th Street, then 51st, then 42nd. Our two torches are down to stubs, and by now, I’m basically sleepwalking. Sky and I have been up all day and night by this point—it has to be almost dawn—and I’m dying to sit down. Just rest for a little bit . . . even an hour’d make a difference. But out of the crowd, I’m not going to be the one who admits I’m tired first. Forget it.

Trevor’s been yapping in our ears since we found him. Asking us how we escaped, and why, and who are these guys who talk so weird, and where are we going to go if Rolladin’s after us, and, and, and. I’m so tired I think I might actually clock him, but Sky and Ryder both humor him.

“So. England, you said, right?”

“Right,” Ryder answers him. “We sailed across the sea for the New World and all that. Pity the natives were just as unfriendly this time around.”

My sister gives him a little knowing laugh, but I don’t get what’s funny. And for some reason, it bothers me that Sky does.

“What’s England like?” Trevor presses. “And why’d you want to leave?”

Ryder laughs. “It’s sort of complicated.”

“I can do complicated,” Trevor says.

Ryder looks at Sky, then me, like we might know some way to save him. I shrug, wishing I had an answer for him. Trev’s relentless, and I know from personal experience that every dodged question just leads to two more.

“Our . . . family situation changed, after the attacks on England,” Ryder says slowly. “So Sam found his way home. . . .”

“From where?”

“From where he was camping out in Dover, with what was left of the British Armed Forces. Sam’s the one who thought it was best if we moved on, started over. Too many ghosts in the graveyard called London.” Ryder clears his throat. “Anyway, Sam hooked up with Lerner and his mate on the long road home. After fixing my Dad’s boat and stockpiling supplies, the four of us set sail this past summer for the City of Dreams.” Ryder flashes us a grin under the torchlight.

I study Ryder’s face in the shadows of the tunnels. He’s not “pretty cute,” as I thought when I first took a good look at him out of the castle window. He’s—gag me for using a phrase from one of Sky’s girly novels—
devastatingly handsome
. Jaw strong enough to cut wood, nice even features. Plus, he’s about three inches taller than me. I like him. I mean, I like his look. I’m suddenly very conscious of my own presence, and I stand a little straighter.

“But why’d you pick New York?” Trevor keeps up with his twenty questions. “I mean, you must have known about the POW camp and everything, or at least your brother must’ve. Why sail into Red Allies territory?”

Oh God, here we go again. No one tells you that having a secret comes with so much responsibility to spread it around. And so we tear the blind from Trev’s eyes, tell him what a fat, fat liar Rolladin’s been, how there’s no one guarding Manhattan anymore. He takes it pretty hard, which I sort of feel bad about. But on the plus side, the shock of it finally shuts him up.

*   *   *

We pass 33rd Street, then 28th, then 23rd, all the stops marked in white type against a thin black board, a taunting little white 6 in a green circle. Will they never end? I don’t know the whole 6 line, but I’m sure that after 1st Street, there’s still the mess of Soho and Chinatown, and then the Financial District. I’m almost tempted to blurt out,
Isn’t anyone else exhausted?!
when Lerner stumbles into Sam in front of us.

“Whoa, whoa, easy, man.” Sam holds Lerner up by his shoulders. “How’s the leg?” Sam kneels down to get a good look at Lerner’s wounded calf with the last of one of the torches.

“Not too good,” Lerner admits. As I get closer, I see that all the scraps of clothes wrapped around his calf are soaked through, and his forehead is caked in sweat.

Mom leans on me before bending over her crutches to examine the damage.

“I need to get off it for a minute,” Lerner says.

“Mom, you’ve gotta rest too,” I say. Even though she’s been trying to pretend she’s okay, I know she’s hurting. She’s been wincing since 33rd Street.

But Mom doesn’t answer, just looks at Ryder. “Can you and Sam carry him?”

“Lady, come
on
,” Sam spits. “You’ve gotta give up these horror stories, all right? Ryder and I aren’t carrying him through the subways. That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s far from ridiculous. Lerner, I’m so sorry you’re hurt.” Mom looks at him. “And on our account, no less. But we need to keep moving—”

“See what happens when you give somebody an inch?” Sam tells Ryder. He waves the stumpy torch into the black pit ahead of us. “There’s another train car down the tracks. We’ll camp in there for an hour, elevate Lerner’s leg, and all take a rest. Then, and only then, do we go—no debates. Come on, man.”

He puts his arm around Lerner’s shoulders, takes the bulk of his buddy’s weight onto his own, and guides him forward.

“You don’t believe me about the tunnel feeders either, do you?” Mom asks Ryder.

Ryder looks at Sky, then me, then Trevor. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

“Right. How could you?” Mom says. Her eyes are pinched by the past again.

“I know my brother’s tough to deal with,” Ryder says slowly. “Trust me, I do more than anyone. But Sam knows what he’s talking about. Lerner can’t walk on that leg any longer, you saw it. Plus, you should take care of yourself, too.” He gives my mom a cautious smile. “I promise, I’ll get us moving soon.”

*   *   *

We form a human ladder, each of us scrambling up and through the broken windows of the abandoned subway car. The car is empty, the space heavy with the stench of old air. We use the torches to get situated. Lerner lies down in the middle, with his leg propped against some useless silver pole in the center of the room, while Sam takes off Lerner’s old bandages and rips some more of his own shirt to make new ones. Sky and I set Mom up on a stretch of orange seats that border the subway car, and elevate her leg with Sky’s backpack. Then we spread out on our own beds of plastic chairs. We finally blow out the last of our light to save it for the rest of our trek. A rusty, heavy stench of blood and sweat overpowers the car, but nothing could keep me from sleep at this point.

*   *   *

It’s weird—I rarely dream. When I do, it’s just a mixed-up replay of things that happened the day before. But tonight it’s different. It’s not a story, not the telling of some elaborate fairy tale, like Sky says sometimes happens to her. It’s weird, trippy pictures. Fear, mixed with hungry rumblings. Squeals that seem to jump out from corners and lodge themselves in my ear.

Then I realize I’m not dreaming.

A wild roar erupts from the center of the car.

“My leg!” Lerner howls.

“What the—”

Before I can even think, I’m thrust against the back of the subway car. There’re footsteps all around me, gurgles, cackles, and then I’m off my feet, being pulled in two directions.

“Sky! Mom!”

“Phoenix, Skyler, where are you?” Mom cries from the dark. “Where are you?”

Dank breath on my face. Rough hands in my hair.

“Mom!” I scream. “Mom, please!”

“Get this fucking thing off me!” Lerner’s screaming, but I can’t see him. I can’t see anyone.

But I feel roaming hands writhe around me like an army of snakes.

“Mom!” I thrash my arms and legs, trying to break free of whoever, whatever, has ahold of me, but I can’t. “Let me—ahhh!” I scream, pain stabbing me in the side.

A snapped match punctures the dark of the train.

I’m surrounded.

By three feeders.

Three real, live feeders.

Feeders that are about to feed on me.

I look up in terror, my eyes scrambling to find Mom, Sky, Trevor—

But I only see four more feeders climbing through the windows. An army of pale faces, snaked and matted hair. Sweat-soaked rags.

The match goes out.

Sky, then Mom, screams my name.
Do they see me? Can they help me?

“Somebody help!” I call out desperately, so desperately I don’t recognize the sound of my voice. But it’s not me. It can’t be me. I’m somewhere else, actually dreaming.

One of the feeders whispers in my ear, a soft purr, “Shhhhh. This won’t hurt.”

“Someone PLEASE!”

“Ryder, take the ones on Phoenix!”