“Who are you?” I asked.
“Call me Ghost.”
“Ghost? The real Ghost?”
“The one and only.”
“Prove it.”
“I don’t have to.”
Good point. “Okay Ghost.” I shrugged. “I’m Cy.”
“I know. Your companion told me that.”
Swiftly, I scanned the area and spotted Beverly kneeling on the ground. Despite the faint light, I saw long red scratches on her arms and purplish welts on her neck. “Quite the welcoming committee you’ve got here. I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of repeat visitors.”
“We don’t like visitors.”
“And I don’t like people attacking me for no reason.”
“You trespassed on our property.”
“It’s city property.”
“We live here. That makes it our property.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
He waved the gun at me. “This is our home. We’re not vacating it for anyone. I suggest you leave at once and don’t come back.”
“If you don’t get that thing out of my face, we’re going to have a problem.”
His eyes tightened and he stared at me with quiet anger. I returned the glare. After a minute, he relaxed and lowered the pistol.
I widened my gaze. Off to one corner, I saw the giant sitting on the ground. A brief smile crossed my face as I watched him clutch his arm, grinding his teeth in pain.
Rotating my head, I saw a ring of seven other people surrounding me. Their faces looked gaunt and their bodies showed signs of malnutrition and abuse. “What is this place? Who are you people?”
“This is our home,” Ghost repeated. “As for your second question, we’re a colony of like-minded individuals. A family if you will. No different than any other family.”
“Yeah, you’re just like the Joneses.”
“I’m sure we seem strange in the eyes of a surface dweller like you. For your kind, normalcy is endless war, consumerism, and perpetual debt.”
I stood up and eyed his band of ragtag starving colonists. “This is the best alternative you could manage?”
“Try to understand —”
“Understand what? That you’re hiding a zombie colony down here?”
He paused for a few seconds. Then, he gave me a peculiar look. “What do you know about Peter and Mary?”
“Who?”
“Peter Dask. Mary Kantz. What did you do to them?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Did you kidnap them?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you here?”
I didn’t want to alarm him by talking about people disappearing in the tunnels. Instead, I chose to focus on my secondary objective. “We’re looking for a man who lives in these tunnels. His name is Jenson. Fred Jenson. You can see his photo in my satchel.”
“I saw the photo when we searched your stuff. What do you want with him?”
“He visited a pawn shop a few weeks back. He tried to sell something that didn’t belong to him.”
“Well, I’ve lived in these tunnels for a long time and I’ve never seen him.”
“Would you tell me if you had seen him?”
“Probably not.”
“You’re a big help. So, who are these two people you mentioned? Peter Dask and Mary…?”
“Mary Kantz. They’ve lived with us for years. A few hours ago, they took a walk down the Lexington Avenue Line. They never returned.”
Lexington Avenue Line? How come I didn’t see them?
“Maybe they got sidetracked,” I suggested. “Or maybe they went somewhere else altogether.”
“I doubt it. We’ve lost five people in similar fashion over the past few months.”
“Maybe they got sick of the crappy existence your colony seems to offer. Seriously, what the hell happened to you people?”
He clenched his fists. “It’s just a bug. The worst of it has passed. Maybe the others weren’t so lucky, but the rest of us are going to make it.”
“Wait, are you saying that people died down here too?”
“That’s enough questions. You need to leave.”
I tried to read his face but it was a mask of blankness. In my travels, I’d seen other communities with similar characteristics to his colony. Most of them functioned just fine in good times. But when things got tough, they tended to put their faith in the wrong sort of leaders. They chose smooth-talking charlatans who promised easy answers and quick fixes. More often than not, those things led the people into even greater disaster.
Was that the story behind Ghost and his colony? It made sense. Outcast by society and ravaged by disease, the survivors would’ve been tempted to turn to a charismatic leader. Ghost, with his fame, strong presence, raspy voice, and lively eyes, was a natural choice. As he consolidated his power, some people left on their own volition. The ones who stayed behind lost the capacity to act on their own.
But even as I considered the scenario, I found myself rejecting it. Despite his prickly attitude, I sensed that Ghost wasn’t interested in acquiring power. Instead, he seemed legitimately concerned for the welfare of his people.
I decided to extend an olive branch. “Are you sure…?”
“Go. Now. And don’t come back.”
“I’m not leaving without my stuff.”
He considered me for a moment. Then, he shrugged and handed me my gun and machete. After returning them to their rightful places, I retrieved my satchel from the ground.
At Ghost’s nod, the two men holding Beverly released her. Slowly, we backed out of the layup yard, keeping a close watch on the colonists.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“A few bruises but I’ll manage. You?”
“Nothing a couple of shots won’t fix.”
“They look sick. What do you make of it?”
“No clue. Let’s just hope they aren’t contagious.”
“Agreed.” She glanced at me. “Do you think we should get checked out?”
“Not yet. I want to take another look at the Lexington Avenue Line.”
“Now?”
“Especially now. Ghost mentioned that two people recently went missing while walking through the tunnel.”
“So what? They probably fled this hellhole.”
“Communities like this one are built on longstanding relationships and trust. People don’t just leave, even if they are sick. No, I think they vanished. And if we find them, we might just find Kolen and Adcock too.”
“Do you think something bad happened to them?”
I thought for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Chapter 17
Inch by inch, I worked my way through the tunnel system, examining every single crack, cranny, and nook. I knew I was missing something.
But what exactly?
My foot splashed in water. My gaze shot to the ground. Under my boots, I saw a small stream running next to the tracks. It wasn’t deep enough to reach the third rail. Still, I didn’t feel particularly comfortable standing in it.
Beverly pointed her flashlight to the other side of the tunnel. “It’s over there too. Where’s it coming from?”
“The storm,” I replied. “The rain must’ve raised the water levels in the Hudson and East Rivers. That overwhelmed the pumps, assuming they’re even still operating. Probably parts of the sewer system too.”
She edged to the side, as far away from the third rail as space permitted. I followed suit. I didn’t know what would happen if I accidentally splashed water onto the third rail. Maybe nothing.
Maybe something.
Stooping down, I examined another section of concrete. I needed to squint to see every detail and it struck me that visibility had diminished within the tunnel. Seeing nothing, I stood up again.