It was almost perfectly cylindrical except for a deep, smooth groove carved out of the red-bricked floor. Arching beams, painted bright red, sprouted out of the ground and ran across the ceiling before returning to the ground again. Brightly colored, ornate tiling covered the walls.
My remaining doubts melted away. Still, I could scarcely believe that I was looking at an abandoned subway tunnel constructed decades before the rest of the system. But it wasn’t just any tunnel.
It was Alfred Ely Beach’s lost subway system.
My eyes drifted to the one unsightly structure in the area. On either side of the groove, metal tracks ran to the north as far as I could see. They looked exactly like the tracks from the other tunnel.
It was most likely the work of the Sand Demons. They installed the tracks to transport the Omega farther into Beach’s system. I frowned as I examined their addition. It was a little like drawing a smiley face on a Norman Rockwell.
Nice going, Sand Demons. Way to ruin a masterpiece.
Beverly joined me and for five minutes, we just stared at the uplifting piece of art masquerading as a subway tunnel.
Finally, she broke the silence. “Why do you suppose the Sand Demons set up that trap? Why didn’t they just seal off the tunnel after they moved the Omega in here?”
I shrugged. “Flexibility? Maybe they wanted to keep their options open in case they needed to move it again.”
She frowned. “I wonder if they knew about its true purpose. They sure seemed hell bent on keeping it hidden.”
“I don’t know.” I stepped into the tunnel. “But I do know one thing. If there was one booby-trap, there’ll be more. And if we’re not careful, the next one could be our last.”
Chapter 47
As the tunnel’s visual impact faded, my nerves began to tingle. I knew that the Omega and its lethal cargo weren’t far away. Yet, I was short on time and even shorter on patience.
“Just so I’m clear,” Beverly said. “This is Beach’s work right?”
“Undoubtedly. I saw some drawings of his demonstration tunnel a few years back. They looked a lot like this one, albeit on a different scale.”
“Different scale?”
“The demonstration tunnel was just nine feet in diameter.” I looked up. “This one pushes fifteen feet.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t help.”
I shrugged. “You asked, I told.”
“I don’t need measurements. I need actionable intelligence, something that can help us find the Omega.”
She took a step backward. “Is all of this from Beach’s original design? Or was some of it added by the Sand Demons?”
I pointed to the nearest wall. “Those rails are definitely Beach’s. They’re running rails, designed to hold the wheels of his subway car.”
“Beach put his wheels on the side of his car?”
I nodded. “It gave him extra stability of motion.”
I pointed to the four-foot groove at the floor of the tunnel. “That bar is Beach’s brake rail. When the driver applied the brakes, the car’s weight would come down on its brake shoes. In turn, they would slide on the rail, causing the car to stop.”
She pointed at the metal bars lying on either side of the groove. “What about those? They stick out like a sore thumb.”
“They’re typical subway tracks.” I kicked one of them. “And since they connect to the other tracks, I think it’s safe to assume they were used to transport the Omega. But there’s no third rail.”
“Didn’t you say this was a pneumatic tunnel? Maybe the Sand Demons used compressed air to propel the Omega.”
“I don’t see how. The Omega weighed a ton. And its shape wouldn’t have created a seal with this tunnel.”
“Then how did it get past this point?”
My eyes traced the path of the tracks as they curved out of the makeshift tunnel and into the pneumatic one. “Gravity.”
“Gravity?”
“From the moment we left the Lexington Avenue Line, we’ve been walking downward. The Sand Demons could’ve steered the Omega onto the tracks and let her roll.”
“I suppose it’s possible. Of course, these tracks can’t go downhill forever.”
“Maybe not. But by the time the Omega hit an incline, it would’ve already built up some momentum.”
“I don’t know. Like you said, the Omega was heavy. It would need a —”
I held up a hand, cutting her off. “You wanted actionable intelligence. I gave it to you. Now, we can sit around and debate this all day or we can find out with our own eyes. I say we do the latter.”
I started walking north. A short while later, the tunnel opened up and I entered a large underground room. I halted and flicked my beam across the space. The light revealed decorative columns, an angled ceiling, and a partly tiled floor. The room remained unfinished. And yet, it still managed to radiate luxury and style.
“Nice digs,” Beverly remarked. “You know, with a little sweat, we could turn this place into an apartment complex.”
“Great idea. And without that nasty sun poking around, vampires would be lining up around the block to rent it.”
She smiled that dazzling smile of hers. For the first time in awhile, I got a good look at her. Her face was smudged with grime. Her damp tank top clung to her sleek body, showing me everything and nothing at the same time.
Damn, you’re hot.
She pointed across the room. “That looks like a platform. What do you make of those markings on the other side of it?”
“Indentations for another tunnel. Probably one going south.”
“That makes sense. Those other markings could be plans for a staircase.”
She stopped and looked around for a second. “Okay, so we can be pretty sure this is a platform. But if that’s the case, how did Beach intend to move a car once it stopped here? I don’t see fans anywhere.”
“He probably hid a steam engine and blower somewhere inside the tunnel. As long as the car stopped before the platform, it would be easy to get it moving again.”
“Yeah, that’s great, except for one little thing.” She put her hands on her hips. “It couldn’t stay in the tunnel. Passengers needed to, you know, exit and enter the car.”
“You’re assuming that the only way to exit a car is through the sides. And you know what happens when you assume.”
“I end up being right?”
“Not this time.” I grinned. “I bet Beach intended his cars to continue all the way into the next tube before stopping. Doors in the rear allowed folks to exit and enter. Then the fans started and it continued on its way.”
Walking past the platform, I continued to the next tube. Pins and needles poked my skin, keeping me in a constant state of anticipation.
After passing a few half-finished stations, we arrived at another, larger station. Markings on the wall indicated space for no less than three additional tubes. One of them would’ve run parallel to the one in which we stood. The other two looked like they were intended to branch off to the west.
“We’re near Union Square,” I said. “This must be where Beach planned to split his system into two lines, one to cover the East Side and one to cover the West Side.
“It looks like he never got a chance to build out the western tunnels.”
I shrugged. “I’m not complaining. Fewer places to search.”
We walked for another thirty minutes, passing a couple more half-finished stations along the way. Finally, we branched out into another wide-open area. However, this area looked quite different than the one under Union Square.