United States Of Apocalypse (20 page)

He had much shorter hair than Mike remembered, but he still had that scowl on his face with his eyebrows pulled tight into a perpetual signal of anger. A protruding forehead hid dark, blazing, merciless eyes. Mike scooted around to the side to get out of his way, taking great note of the man’s snakeskin boots as he looked down. If Murkediem recognized them, he said nothing as he got on the elevator.

“Fuck,” Mike said as he stepped out of the building. “Well, now we know how Pembroke got them off our backs.”

“They’re in collusion.”

“You’re pretty quick for a cop.” Mike hugged himself. “Did you feel that? That fucking guy has evil radiating off him; wouldn’t doubt if he really was a demon.”

“He’s no devil, he’s human—maybe even less so, the scum bag. I tossed him in jail once. He was so high on meth and heroin he shit all over himself in lock up. I left him that way the entire weekend. Said he was going to kill me at least a dozen times. We’re in over our heads, Mike.”

Mike said nothing. He bummed a cigarette off Juicy. “Didn’t think you’d give me one.”

“I can’t kill you outright. I figure these will catch up to you some day.”

“Good to have a long-term plan.” Mike leaned in to get the smoke lit. “You knew about Murkediem?”

“I like him less than you.”

“Well, that’s something I suppose.”

Forty-five minutes later, Tynes, Mike, and nearly seventy-five heavily armed men made their way down into the subway station at Thirty-First and Woodside. The darkness was only held slightly at bay by a smattering of candles from the people who called this place their home. Helmet lights lit up the entire area. Tynes led the way, hopping down off the platform and onto the railway.

The homeless living there scrambled away as the force came down. It was best in this new world to avoid others; certainly those that looked even remotely organized and this was no exception. Mike was affected by what he saw. They’d been in the tunnels for over fifteen minutes and they still kept coming across people in couples and small groups, sometimes whole families, and the thing they all had in common was the haunted look of the hopeless. Dirt covered their faces, starvation had begun to hollow out their cheeks, giving them a gaunt, devastated expression.

“How much farther?” Juicy asked when Tynes led them down a disused passage. Heavy dust coated every surface and hung in the air—a lung-choking sheer curtain.

“Another mile,” Tynes said.

A few of the men were getting fidgety. Mike noticed this because he was one of them.

“Not a fan, man. Being this far underground sucks. What if the flashlights go out?”

“All seventy-five of them?” Tynes retorted.

“It could happen; then it would be just like that cave story. We wouldn’t be able to see anything, and these sub-human creatures that live underground would come after us and try to eat us.”

“Like zombies?” Tynes asked.

“Zombies? No man, I’m talking things that can actually happen. Zombies don’t exist.”

“Oh, but apparently mole-people who feed on other humans do?”

“Right.”

They walked a little farther, Mike lost in his thoughts of cannibalistic cave dwellers, every shadow a potential enemy.

“How much do you trust Pembroke?”

“In what way?” Mike pulled his gaze from the nooks and crannies where threats could lie in wait.

“We give him entry and then he gets rid of us. Nobody would know. Have you thought about that?”

“I hadn’t until now, but thanks for the distraction.”

“I’m serious, Mike.”

“I gathered that. When someone talks about someone else killing them, it generally stems from a serious conversation. I think he’s mostly trustworthy.”

“Mostly. Wow, that just sends tingly fingers of goodness traveling throughout my entire body.”

“There’s a visual that’ll haunt me.” Mike shook his head rapidly back and forth, hoping to shake the imagery free. “To be fair, he could off us at any time.”

“Mike.”

“Fine. It doesn’t make any sense, him killing us.”

“Sure it does, he doesn’t have to share.”

“Well, okay, that makes sense. I don’t appreciate you making me think, Tynes.”

“It’s our lives on the line here. I think you can take a moment and make the effort.”

“Pembroke might be a criminal.”

Tynes frowned at him.

“Okay, we know he’s a criminal, and he deals in the black market. But to be successful and stay alive, you have to be honest in your dealings. You don’t get to his position by screwing people over.”

“This is a little different, Mike. He’s no longer fencing stolen goods or moving smuggled items, he’s shooting for King of New York, and one of the ways he’s going to be able to pull that off is with the promise of food, and lots of it. Kings have notoriously been known to be selfish types.”

“So now we have to worry about being killed by the National Guard, mole men, and Pembroke’s people? This is turning out to be an entirely shitty day.”

“There are no mole men.” Tynes rolled his eyes as he spoke.

“You don’t know that. What about alligators?”

“Mike, focus.”

“The Pembroke I know wouldn’t do that. If we hold up our end of the agreement, he will hold up his.”

“We’ll have to go with that then. We’re here,” Tynes said in a loud voice.

“Here? It looks the same as every other place.” Juicy was one of the people that was not enjoying the closed-in, cramping feel of the darkness.

“Nevertheless…” Tynes strode over to a wall that did indeed look like any other part of the tunnel. “Right here.” He smacked the flat of his palm against the brick.

Two men with sledgehammers came up. The first several hits sounded very solid as if the wall were many feet thick. If Tynes was wrong and there was no entrance, this would indeed be their final resting place. Mike didn’t think the mole men cared whether their food was warm or cold. He subtly backed up a few paces, it was then he noticed that he was hemmed in, nothing overt like a dense ring of interlocked arms, but it was clear to him he was being watched and that leaving the group was not an option.

“Now might be the only chance we have,” Tynes said softly next to him.

“You noticed too?”

The solid hammer strikes began to take on a softer, hollower tone. The man that broke through first lost his grip, his sledge clattering onto the ground on the other side of the hole.

“Idiot,” Juicy berated him. “That doesn’t mean you should stop swinging,” he told the other man. Three hits later, enough bricks had fallen to the ground that Juicy could fit his head through. “It’s just another tunnel.” He turned to Tynes.

“I didn’t say it opened up to the National Guard warehouse; I said it led to it.”

“You better hope you’re right.”

“And if I’m not?”

Juicy laughed cruelly. “Well, let’s just say I get to fulfill a long-running dream of mine.” He turned to Mike to deliver those words.

Mike gulped hard. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

Five minutes later, the hole was wide enough for the men to fit through. The original sledge swinger grabbed his hammer as he went through.

“What are you planning on doing with that?” Juicy asked him.

“It seems a waste to leave it here.”

“No, what really seems a waste is that we brought you.” This got a few laughs from the men. “We’re about to get in a gunfight and you’re going to bring a hammer?”

The man sheepishly put it down.

“Juicy, you need to keep your men quiet. We’re coming up to the access point.”

The volume dropped considerably once the word was passed. To Mike, though, it sounded like everything had been amplified. He knew enough to realize it was because his senses were now heightened, but that did little to lessen his anxiety that they’d be discovered and shot like fish in a barrel—or men in a narrow, darkened tunnel.

Tynes counted off his steps. When he got to twenty-two, he looked up, off to the right, and nearly fifteen feet up was a supply cover. “Anyone bring a ladder?”

“You didn’t say nothing about no ladder, Cop,” Juicy said, moving close.

Mike didn’t like that the man was so emboldened that he challenged Tynes. That could only mean that every man there had specific orders to keep Juicy safe and that Tynes and Mike were to be watched and not trusted.

“We’ve got enough people to make a pyramid,” Mike blurted out.

“What? Like cheerleaders?” Juicy asked.

“Sure, why not? Although, I find it a little disturbing that you knew what I meant. Once someone gets up there, they can get a rope or a ladder or something.”

“What are you, stupid?” Juicy asked. “Fucking
puta
.”

“Listen, maybe we are stupid, but I know if we don’t get up there, me and that rolling hill over there are pretty much mole men food.” Mike said.

“Mole men?” Juicy queried.

“Long story. Sure, we die down here, and that would suck. But what about you, Juicy?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to go back and tell Pembroke you failed, and not only that, you didn’t even try? You just gave up? How well do you think that will go over? And before you get any funny ideas, I just want to throw a wrench in the works in case you’re thinking about killing us and grabbing a ladder yourself. My safety is off, and my finger has the trigger about halfway back.” Mike’s expression was chilling, causing Juicy to look away to regain his composure.

“You going to kill us all, hero?” Juicy sneered.

“I might not kill any of you, but I guarantee if I blow off a couple of rounds, someone up there is going to hear it. And then they’ll know about this little entry point, and from now on and going forward, you can bet it will be guarded and protected heavily.”

Juicy stepped closer, flashing a blade.

“One fucking inch, one fucking inch closer, Juicy, and I continue pulling this trigger until I no longer can.”

Juicy’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “Someday, me and you are going to finish this. All right, we’ll do this your way…for now.”

Mike got ten of the biggest men he could to create the base of his pyramid, and within four layers of grunting men, he had the height he thought would be necessary for someone to climb up and move the grate.

“All set,” he said triumphantly.

“Get your ass up there then,” Juicy told him.

“Me? You want me to go up there?”

“Yeah, and before you think of doing anything stupid, like alerting the Guard, just remember your friend will be down here with us.”

“I don’t really like him that much, he’s into cats, health food, and fancy pillows.”

“Go,” Juicy ordered.

“That doesn’t look very stable.”

“Get your ass up there.”

“I suppose it won’t matter if I tell you I’m afraid of heights.”

Juicy motioned to the pile.

“Avenge me, Tynes, and keep your damned finger on the trigger,” Mike said as he put his rifle across his back, the sling bisecting his body at an angle. He pulled it tight so it wouldn’t move around. The men above reached down and helped him up as he stepped on various body parts, apologizing profusely as he did so. When he got to the top, he gingerly stood up, swaying slightly with the pile. Two men had reached out and were holding his calves, trying to keep him from toppling over. Mike raised his arms and pushed against the grate. At first, nothing happened except the accumulated moan of those below him as he forced more pressure on them. Then, when he thought there was no way he would be able to move the thing, there was a loud
creak
and the screech of rusted metal grinding against the lip. Mike gave one final heave, the resulting pop sounded like a firecracker. Seventy-four men held their breath, waiting to see if they would be discovered. Mike cautiously pushed the grate all the way up.

“All right guys, I’m going through. Let go of my legs.” He did not like the feeling in the least as he began to wobble. He timed his jump to make sure his hands would go through the hole; even so, he caught his left pinkie finger on the edge and stifled a string of swears. He got his elbows up onto the warehouse floor and muscled himself up and through. The warehouse wasn’t much brighter than the tunnels, but he decided to err on the side of caution as he reached up and turned his helmet light off.

“I’m in,” he whispered, sticking his head back down. The pyramid below was slowly beginning to unravel.

“Get a fucking ladder, asshole,” Juicy said, a little louder than Mike appreciated.

“Holy shit,” Mike said when he stood and finally looked around.

“What’s ‘holy shit’?” Juicy asked.

“This place is full of food.” Mike put the grate back in place just in the off chance someone came by and noticed a hole in the floor. “Where the hell am I going to find a ladder? And even if I do, there’s no way it’s going to fit through that opening. Gonna have to find a rope.”

Mike moved very cautiously at first, expecting guards to flood out from in between the rows of shelving at any moment. Once he realized he was alone, he moved quicker, heading for the walls, figuring if there were any tools to be found, they would be there. He knew there was an imaginary timer running, that, when it reached zero, Tynes’ life would be forfeit. He wished he knew how many minutes he had. The far wall yielded nothing of any use. He saw large doors that he figured led outside. He needed to find a supply or tool shed. He was not going to find what he needed here, but the chances of being caught out there were greatly increased. Just as he was getting ready to head out, he saw shelves of uniforms.

“Never pictured myself in cammies. Sure as shit hope I have these on the right way,” Mike said softly as he laced his boots. “Now what?” Mike was acutely aware of the timer ticking down in the tunnels. He steeled himself, grasped the handle to the warehouse door, and went outside, plunging himself into the hazy sunlight. He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but certainly not what he saw. He figured personnel would be shuffling about doing all sorts of various military-type things while a drill sergeant yelled at them. Instead, the vast majority of those he did see were just lounging. A grill was cooking something to his far left, the sweet smell of slowly charring flesh making him drool. He wiped his chin and nearly went over to see if he could grab a hamburger. Cheering shouts from an intense game of volleyball being played in the massive courtyard startled and confused him.