A deep purring vibrated through his chest. He opened his eyes slowly. Justin hurt all over, and his head felt foggy. Mongrel peered through closed eyes from where he was curled up on his chest, but the giant tom cat didn’t move.
Mongrel was the ugliest animal Justin had ever seen. He was missing both ears and his tail. His fur was motley, a mix of colors and textures in patches that each stubbornly chose a different direction to grow. Scars covered his back, testament to the hard life the cat had lived, and he had too many toes on each foot, each with a vicious claw hidden neatly away. Most odd though were the cat’s two differently colored eyes. One was a deep golden speckled green and the other a rich sky blue.
Mongrel watched Justin closely, the thin pupils steadily fixed on the boy.
He tried to move, to roll on his right side so that he could look around. The hurt immediately switched to a vibrant pain that spread out through his head like cracks through thin ice. Breathing slowly he waited until it subsided enough to open his eyes again.
Mongrel jumped down from his chest and padded away into the silence, the low hum of his purring fading slowly.
The pain quieted to a slow throbbing behind his eyes, so he sat up carefully, wary of the pain coming back. Seated in the bed, the light from the hall outlined the checkerboard white and black floor of the infirmary. Warm white sheets were tucked in tight around him and smelled faintly of sunshine and grass. A glass of water on the small table beside his bed made his mouth feel like it was full of ashes. He clumsily grabbed the glass and drained it, instantly feeling a bit of strength return to him.
Then he remembered Matt, and his mouth dried out again. Tears began to fill his eyes as he remembered all that had befallen them.
——-
They’d left two days ago for a trip to the outskirts of the city. There was a large hospital situated right at the edge of the river near the sewer outlets. The compound needed antibiotics. Some of the families had gotten sick and weren’t getting better. Everyone feared the plagues would come again like they had decades earlier during the outbreaks that created the Deaders. Everyone was always afraid of sickness of any kind. There weren’t any hospitals, no real medicines or medical equipment. If you got sick, really sick, you were probably going to die. It was a hard fact of life that everyone in the compound lived with. His father had said that the elders were close to voting to evict those who were sick. His father had told him they were afraid of the sickness spreading, and Justin had known what he must do.
He and Matt left early in the morning before most of the families were up. He left his father a note, gathered his well used gear – a beat up nylon backpack filled with items he’d need for the trip and a metal tipped walking stick his father had made for him – and headed out through the tunnels.
Things went well for the first day. They had almost reached the hospital after walking for hours through the sewers and subway tunnels beneath the streets. They kept time by the number of glow sticks they used, taking breaks only to eat quickly and then return to their long walk.
Justin led them to a connecting passage that fed into the subways. He had told Matt that there was a station only a few minutes ahead where they could lock themselves into a maintenance room for the night. Matt joked that they could sleep in shifts to make sure they were safe.
Justin planned to warn Matt about making jokes like that. He wasn’t taking this seriously enough. His unwarranted ease could endanger them both. You only survived outside if you were wary all of the time. He’d talk to Matt about it when they reached the safety of the maintenance room.
The smaller connecting tunnel came to an end. Justin hid the glow stick in his pants pocket as the two boys looked up the stairs that lead to the subway station platform. The maintenance room was less than 100 yards away.
The platform had a stairway exit that let in light from the streets above, though it only outlined a small area directly ahead of them. There was trash everywhere on the platform. Discarded luggage left behind years ago when people had tried to evacuate the city. Everything was broken open, the contents spread out everywhere, covering the floors and the top of the stairs. Everything of value, anything that could keep you alive, had been taken long ago.
Justin signaled quietly for Mat to followin with a single tap on his big friend’s shoulder, and then moved quietly along the wall, sticking to the deep shadows.
He’d used the maintenance room before, but it had been almost 9 months since he’d been out this far from the compound. The Deaders didn’t usually come down into the subway stations. Justin liked to think that they weren’t able to use the stairs with their stiff legs and shambling gait, so it was unlikely that any were down here unless they had fallen down the stairs from the street. It still paid to be careful, and that was what he always was. Careful kept you alive. His father had taught him that from the time he was old enough to walk.
He moved slowly along the wall opposite the light from the exit to the street outside. His eyes were focused, but he relied much more on his ears. You could always hear the Deaders. They didn’t know how to be quiet, didn’t have a reason to be silent. Matt was still making too much noise. He’d tried to teach Matt how to move carefully, but his big friend still needed to practice. He’d joked that he couldn’t be quiet with such big feet. They’d laughed about that just a few days ago in the dining hall of the compound, surrounded by their friends and the safety of the compound walls.
He looked back at Matt and nearly hissed. It was his friends big feet that were walking him right into trouble. Matt was moving near the light, his large silhouette outlined clearly to anything in the dark of the subway station platform. He didn’t realize that while he was hidden from eyes outside, he was shouting his presence to everything inside.
Justin moved quickly to the door of the maintenance room and awaited his friend. Matt slowed near the light, stopping suddenly, his outline showing him bending over at the waist. Justin wanted to scream, to beckon Matt to get to the door. He was about to move when Matt stood up straight and continued on. He reached Justin within moments, feeling out along the wall until his fingers grasped Justin’s shoulder, his big hand fumbling down his sleeve, giving Justin a powerful squeeze.
Justin held his anger and concern inside, wishing to get behind the thick steel door of the maintenance room before speaking. He reached for the cold door knob, turned it and pushed the door open. It made no noise. Justin knew enough to oil the hinges to all his safe houses. He knew to always be careful even if Matt did not.
The boys entered the room, Matt passing Justin as the smaller boy turned to close and bolt the door. Justin pulled the glow stick out of his pocket, the green light defining the small storage space. Large lockers lined the rear wall, a green metal desk and well worn brown leather chair sat in front of a stained cork board covered in yellowed papers pinned in no discernible order. A mop and bucket sat behind the door with one old dark work boot. The only other furniture was an aged couch with a faded floral print and a small wood table that was covered with carvings. The walls were all concrete painted in a light blue that shone oddly in the green light of the glow stick.
Justin had found the maintenance room on his first trip to the hospital. It had only one thick steel door with an iron bolt on the inside, and a single air vent in the ceiling that also led to the streets above. Justin knew he should always have a safe way out. There was an aluminum step ladder in one of the lockers, stowed away during that first visit.
Matt dumped his backpack onto the desk and dropped his large frame onto the couch. A large smile split across his face.
“Man, that was a lot farther than I thought it would be. How far out do you think we are from the compound?”
He wasn’t making any attempts at being quiet; believing the safety of the maintenance room was enough, treating it like the compound walls were protecting them.
“We’re only about 2 miles away, but we covered almost 10 miles underground,” Justin whispered.
He took off his backpack, checking the zippers and ties to ensure his gear was still packed tightly away. He moved a few more glow sticks into the cargo pockets of his pants and grabbed a handful of dried meat and a bottle of water from his tightly wrapped food stores. Sitting on the desk, he bit into his salty dinner and prepared to talk to Matt about the dangers they still faced. He swallowed and took a small drink of the water. He looked up to find that Matt was smiling from ear to ear, and he couldn’t bite back his words any longer.
“What were you doing out there on the platform? I thought I told you to stay close to me.”
It was the first time Justin’s voice had approached anything louder than a whisper all day, and it filled the room in a way it never had in the compound. Their eyes met and Matt could see that his friend was not happy with him.
“Just, I was only takin’ a look around. Nothing happened.”
“This time. Nothing happened this time. We can’t rely on good luck to get us by, Matt. We have to be careful. I told you that.”
Matt looked away, rolling his eyes, thinking that Justin couldn’t see him or wouldn’t notice his lack of concern. He rocked onto his right side, the springs in the couch protesting against his weight. He reached deep into his pocket.
“I know. I know, Just. But look at what I found.”
He produced a wadded up bundle of faded red lace. With a shake of his hand it unfolded and became a large bra. Matt looped his meaty fingers through the shoulder straps and displayed it proudly to his friend. He raised one eye brow and smiled.
“Imagine the beauties that must have filled these, eh.”
Justin stared hard in confusion and anger at the bra. Then he looked up at his friend and saw the smile, and he just could not stay angry. That smile said it all. This wasn’t real to Matt. It was a game, a holiday away from the restraints and rules of the compound. He’d made a mistake bringing Matt along, a mistake he’d hope wouldn’t end badly. He’d just have to be doubly wary for the both of them.
Justin laughed and forced himself to smile. The tension between them eased and Matt threw the bra across the small room, hitting Justin in the chest. They tossed it back and forth until their laughter quieted down.
“I’ll be careful, Just. I promise. I won’t let you down out here. I’ll be the muscle, and you can be the brains. You’ll see.”
Matt wadded up the bra and pushed it back into his pocket. He shifted to lay down as he pulled his jacket up high around his neck, settling deeper into the dusty couch.
“I know, Matt. Just like we always are,” Justin replied. His friends easy going nature always won in the end.
“We should get some sleep. We’ll be heading up to the surface tomorrow and we need to be ready. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
Justin propped his bag into the corner and then settled down against it while Matt stretched his thick legs. Within moments Matt had begun to snore, breathing deep and with steady rhythm.
Justin waited a few minutes to make sure Matt was asleep before silently getting up to check and then recheck the locks on the door and the ventilation shaft. Matt may not be worried, but he knew how to be careful, even if he had to be careful for them both.
He placed the glow stick back in his pocket and curled up around his back pack. In seconds, he was asleep.
He tries to run as fast as he can manage under the weight of his fear and worry. The green light from the glow stick grasped firmly in his left hand shows only a few feet of the tunnel in front of them. Matt leans on him, heavy under his right arm, unable to stand on his own. Blood flows down his shirt, seeping through the torn scraps of a makeshift bandage pushed into the wound in his shoulder.
He carries Matt without thinking, only needing to keep moving forward. Matt is bigger than he is, almost full grown and already larger than most of the other men in the compound. He normally towers over his much smaller friend, but now Matt is slouched over, his head resting on his chest. Matt is his best friend, the only other boy his own age in the South Street compound. There aren’t many children left in the city, lost to the plague, victims of this new world. He can’t leave Matt behind, though he knows there is no chance things will ever be the same. He shoulders his big friend and tries not to think of the pain in his back and legs.
“I need a break Just,” Matt whispers.
Matt is breathing in spurts, blood flecks his lips and his skin shines in the green light. He’s coughing more and more and heat radiates off of him. He trips and nearly falls.
“Please, Justin……… Just a few minutes……… I’m so tired and hungry.”
He can’t let them slow their pace. Not now. Not when they are so close. He ignores Matt and keeps up their loping run. The air in his lungs burns cold, his heart beating loudly in his ears. The debris of the sewer tunnels sweeps past in a blur as their feet pound rhythmically in the slowly moving water. A turn emerges suddenly, and he shifts his weight too late to keep his feet. Sliding, they land heavily in the fetid murk. Matt slips from his arm and drops like a stone, unable even to slow his fall. Justin’s legs twist at awkward angles beneath him as he drops the glow stick into the muck. His head hits the molded brick wall and for a few moments he lays dazed and breathing roughly.
The darkness surrounds them, holds them quiet and alone.
He slowly shakes his head as he raises himself to one knee, leaning heavily against the wall. The damp brick, its cold seeping through his torn shirt, is soothing to his tired muscles, and he wishes he could just lie down and go to sleep. He feels his head, probing the tender bump already forming from the jarring impact. Nothing is broken, but he’ll have a knot for a few days.
He steadies his breathing, quieting the deep intake of air and turns back towards the tunnel. He listens carefully, his head cocked slightly as he peers through the dark beyond the feeble light of the glow stick, searching for anything other than the echoing sounds of water.
One minute passes. Two. Just a few minutes in the light, and an eternity in the dark.
Five minutes pass before he hears it. A low moan and the shuffling of feet from far off. Though they have been running for what seems to be hours, they are still followed. Deaders just didn’t know when to quit.
He pushes himself up and grabs the glow stick from the dirty water. He pulls Matt up to a sitting position, propping him up against the wall. The bandage has fallen away and he can see just how bad the bite is. A fist sized chunk of Matt’s shoulder is missing, torn away. Bone shows and blood pools in the hollow of his neck. Lines spider out from the wound under his skin, black veins pulsing lightly with every shallow breath.
He rips another scrap from his shirt and stuffs it into the wound. Matt makes no noise, mercifully unconscious from either the fall or the pain of the injury. He takes his belt off quickly, and loops it under his large friend’s shoulders, pulling it tight. He sticks the glow stick in Matt’s front pocket and grabs the makeshift harness with both hands.
“C’mon, Matt. Only a few hundred yards to go. We’ll be home in time for supper. I bet Linda’s got something good for us tonight, and then we can get some sleep.” He laughs a little at that to ease Matt along though inside his frayed nerves are making him unsteady as he drags his friend through the tunnels. They sway dangerously every few steps, and he wonders how long he can keep this up. Matt doesn’t respond, and Justin worries even more.
He’d misjudged their location while running and hadn’t realized how close they were. He’d let his fear take over and it had nearly cost them. The sewers were immense, miles and miles of dark tunnels running beneath the city, and it would be too easy to lose oneself in the dark. He had only the one glow stick, and it was beginning to fade, the chemicals nearly expended. If he lost it, or it burned out, they’d be in even worse trouble. If they didn’t make it home soon, they wouldn’t have to worry about supper ever again, and time was almost up.
Justin hurried on through the dark, dragging Matt, senses strained to detect noises that didn’t belong. He was tired. He hadn’t slept for almost two days, and his energy reserves were almost completely spent. He only needed a few more minutes and a little bit of luck. He knew the sewers better than anyone else in the compound. He could find his way in the dark, and had done so before, moving slowly, carefully, quietly through the tunnels. He didn’t have time for that now, and he couldn’t be quiet while dragging Matt’s unconscious body behind him. He knew the sewers, and after gathering himself from the fall, he chose his way quickly.
That was why the elders let him go out through the tunnels to scavenge for food and water. He could move quietly anywhere in the city, popping out to sneak into stores like a shadow from the underground. He’d been successful at first, but the more supplies he found, the further he had to range to find more. The trips became longer until he decided to setup safe houses so that he could stay outside the compound over night. The sewers and safe houses were his network of bolt holes and locked doors where he could move about the city quietly and quickly. No one else would even consider doing what he did. The elders thought him mad to tread outside the safety of the compound walls, but they approved of the much needed supplies he brought back. He saw it as an escape from the confines of their rules and restrictions. Life in the compound was safe, as safe as life could be now, but it wasn’t comfortable for a boy like him.
There were almost twenty five families living in the compound, an old brick and stone police station that they’d converted years ago, hardened against external entry. Justin had been there for the last six years. His father had found the building while searching for ammunition for their only rifle. He’d pleaded for the elders to admit them, and had gained a grudging acceptance when he showed what he knew of plumbing. His father could work magic with old pipes and dirty water, filtering their rain stores to provide safe drinking water for the compound. It was a skill that served them well, guaranteeing them a home behind the thick walls of the old police station on South Street. It was his father that had found the entrance to the sewers. It only seemed right that Justin was the one to use them.
He’d begun taking Matt along only three weeks earlier. He’d bothered Justin for months to take him along, to let him prove that he could brave the sewers and help with foraging for supplies. Their first trip had been short, a one day run for some canned goods, flu medicine, aspirin and anything else they could carry that would be useful. They’d easily slipped into the deserted store just before dark, grabbed what they needed, and returned to the compound. Matt’s eyes had beamed under all the attention he received from the families upon their triumphant return. They thanked him over and over again for his courage as they ate the food or used the medicine he brought back to cure the common ailments of the old and young alike. Now, Justin had wished he’d never brought Matt along.
Matt was hooked, obsessed with returning to the city outside the walls of the compound. He took to begging Justin at all hours, demanding he bring him out into the tunnels again and again. Justin hadn’t wanted to bring him for the longer treks, the overnights in the abandoned homes where he slept locked in closets trying to sleep through his fear. He knew Matt wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t ready to live with the fear, to hold it deep down inside for such a long time. He knew that if you couldn’t control the fear, couldn’t contain it while still moving on, it would get you killed. The Deaders didn’t care if you were scared. To them, you were just food.
In the end, he had caved in to Matt’s requests. He was Justin’s best friend, and it was his decision to leave the safety of the compound. Justin couldn’t talk him out of it. Now, here they were, so much gone wrong, both tired beyond belief and one almost dead.
Justin pulled Matt around another curve in the tunnel and a large steel door appeared along the right wall. He gently lowered Matt to the concrete floor and pulled at the chain around his neck. A small key fell out of his shirt, hanging at the end of the old chain. He quickly unlocked the door, pulled Matt through into the small entry room, and closed and locked the door behind them. He slumped to the floor, exhausted from their ordeal. A few quiet minutes passed as his breathing slowed down. He’d get up and trigger the bell for the interior door in a moment. He just had to catch his breath.
His chin had just started to rest on his chest as a light poured in from a second door that hung open.
Two men appeared dressed in the remnants of old blue police uniforms. They carried riot shields and wore helmets with visors. The larger man spun a flashlight around the room, temporarily blinding Justin as he sat against the wall. Justin tried to clear his head as he blinked in the light.
“Easy, Hammer. It’s me.”
Justin hadn’t had time to trigger the bells that announced his entry. The door from the sewers was always guarded. They had rigged a wire and bell into this room to let the guard know that someone wanted to come in. The guards could peer out through a peep hole to confirm the room was safe and the door could be opened. Only Justin had a key to get in from the outside. Even if he hadn’t rung the bell, the guards should have known it was him.
“Get up, Justin. Get up!”
Hammer’s voice rasped loudly. He was a heavy smoker, always asking Justin to bring back whatever tobacco he could find. Years of the habit had turned his voice into old leather and gravel.
“Move it, now.”
Hammer reached over and yanked Justin up by the strap on his backpack. The second guard turned toward Matt, still unmoving on the floor where Justin had dropped him. He leveled a hand gun held in one meaty fist at Matt’s back. Hammer moved to push Justin roughly through the door.
“Hey! He needs help. We need to get him inside to the Doc. She’ll fix him up. Hammer, he needs help, now!”
Justin tried to stop Hammer from pushing him though the door, but the big guardsman was too strong to resist. Hammer pushed him hard, hitting him in the back with riot shield, and he found himself tripping over the door frame into the guard room. The two men backed out of the entry room slowly, locking the door behind them. They didn’t bring Matt with them.
Justin jumped to his feet, finding a last bit of energy; he tried to push his way through the men to the door.
“We can’t leave him in there. He needs to see the Doc!”
They blocked him, their size alone enough to keep him back. He tried to push them, hitting them with both hands while also reaching for the door, but they didn’t budge. He was too small. He couldn’t leave Matt behind. He wouldn’t.
Anger at the guards for leaving his best friend behind the door, for refusing to help made him stronger. He growled, doubling his efforts to reach the door. He was able to push the guards back a step in his fury. Their steel-toed boots rang loud on the floor as they grudgingly gave ground.
He knew they were yelling at him, but he couldn’t hear them, wouldn’t listen. He just had to save Matt. He had promised. Tears stung his eyes. He had promised his best friend.
He fought them until Hammer’s steel flashlight came at him too fast to dodge. A hundred lights exploded behind his eyes. Darkness grabbed him and pulled him down.
