“What for—?”
“For… everything. For the subway. It was a stupid idea—”
“No, sweetheart, no. It was a good idea. A really good idea. You’ll see. We’ll be okay.”
But Hu refused to be reassured. The moment was reawakening his panic—that same panic he’d felt that day in the tank at Paramount. And this time, there wouldn’t be anybody who could save either of them.
James slid his hand up Hu’s shoulder, putting his palm on the back of Hu’s neck—their own private gesture of reassurance. He pulled him into a hug and whispered, “Hell or high water, Squeak. I promise.”
Hu pulled back, just enough to smile at him.
The train screeched and rocketed through the dark tunnel, but James and Hu didn’t notice, didn’t care. They had retreated into a private space between their shining eyes, their own special world of connection.
After a moment, Hu pulled away, recovering enough to reach into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out the small velvet-covered box, opened it, withdrew the larger ring and slid it onto James’ finger. “This is not the way I wanted to do it, this is awful, but… I take thee, James D. Liddle, as my awfully wedded husband, forever and ever, and for all the days of my life.”
James took the box from Hu, took the second ring and likewise slid it onto Hu’s finger. “I take thee, Hu Son, to be my husband, to be my lawfully bedded husband, forever and ever, and for all the days of my life.”
They looked into each other’s eyes again, trying to make the moment last forever. Finally James leaned forward and gently kissed Hu. He wanted to kiss him more passionately, but it wasn’t necessary, not here—not with so many strangers watching. He hadn’t realized they had attracted an audience. Several people applauded and cheered, but not the uncertain Korean woman still clutching the little girl close to her.
There were tears forming in Hu’s eyes. He said, “This is the real one, Bubble, but I still want a ceremony.” He whispered, “After all, we’ve already got a flower girl. I mean, if her mother will let her.”
It was too much, all too much. James finally laughed. “We’re about to lose the house, the car, the motorcycle, our business—we still don’t know if we’re going to survive—” He couldn’t help himself, the words came tumbling out. “—And here we are, this is the happiest day of my life.”
“It’s certainly going to be one to remember—”
And that’s when the subway train lurched.
The train lurched as if it had gone over a speed bump. Someone gasped, someone else screamed. Then the train roared on, faster than before.
“What was that—?” Hu had to raise his voice to be heard.
James shook his head. “Dunno. Felt like a power glitch to me.”
“Do you think they’re shutting down the grid?”
“Makes sense they would—”
“But not the subway—”
“We’re still rolling—”
Hu opened his mouth, not quite a yawn, something else. “James—?”
“What?”
“My ears just popped.”
“Yeah.” James forced his own yawn as well. “Mine too.”
“What would—?” But Hu already knew the answer.
“Air pressure,” said James. “The water is definitely in the tunnel. It’s coming in fast, compressing the air—”
“It’s gonna hit us, isn’t it—”
James didn’t answer. He looked down to the rear end of the car, but there was no view out the back. Even if there had been, there were too many people in the way. He turned around to his bike, pulled his divebelt off the trailer, made sure his knife was in its sheath. He pulled Hu to his side. “Face your bike, now. If you have to, throw yourself over the tank. Hide it from view.”
“What? Why—?” And then understanding. “Oh.” And then, “Oh, shit—”
“Yeah,” James finished buckling his divebelt around his waist. “It’s gonna get ugly.”
“James—”
“There’s nothing we can do—”
Hu grabbed his arm. “We can do something. We’ve got two regulators on each rig. We can save Julia and her mom.”
James wanted to argue, but Hu was right. He stepped over to the Korean woman, looked directly into her terrified eyes. “Come stand next to us. Both of you. Please.” He reached out and touched her elbow. It was enough. Still clutching her daughter, she moved closer to the bikes.
“Listen to me,” said James. He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. “I’m a SCUBA professional. The wave is coming, it’s going to flood this car. When the water hits, it’s going to get panicky in here, but each of the tanks has two mouthpieces and there’s enough air here for four people, Hu and myself—and both of you. You’ll be okay if you do what I say. Here’s what you need to know. Are you listening, Julia?”
The little girl nodded, her eyes wide.
“Okay, when it’s time, Hu’s going to give you a mouthpiece. We don’t have a mask for you, so you’re gonna want to close your eyes and just concentrate on breathing as slowly as you can. Take really long, really slow, breaths, in and out, only through the mouthpiece, really slow—okay?”
Julia nodded solemnly.
“Now, remember, I want you to keep your eyes closed and just concentrate on breathing—” Julia looked confused. James leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Okay, here’s how to do it. You count a hundred breaths to yourself, because that’s how long it takes. And if the water still hasn’t gone down, then you start over and count to a hundred again. You might have to do that more than once, but that’s how Hu and I are gonna do it—” He straightened and turned to the mother. “Did you get all that? You and I will share the other tank—”
The woman started to say something, an objection—?
James held up his hand. “Don’t say anything. Just stand here. Turn away from anyone else. Both of you. Keep your backs to them. And—”
The subway lurched again. This time, the car bumped as if something had struck it from behind. Someone at the other end of the car screamed, several people screamed, both men and women—
Something lifted the rear of the car off the tracks, tilting them forward. Outside there were sparks—the train was slowing, there was no more power to the wheels—and then there was light outside, flickering light—the subway train was careening into the Wilshire/Western station and angry brown water flooded up onto the platform from the tracks. More water poured down the stairways and escalators, battering the walls and the train with debris, all of it rising rapidly and rocking the car with its force. The air smelled suddenly wet.
The other passengers, mostly men, began shouting and pushing, scrambling at and over each other. Muddy water was already flooding into the car from underneath. Men were shouting, several were trying to force open the doors, trying to escape. Others were demanding they stop, terrified because the darkness outside the train was already rising past the windows—
And then someone finally pushed the doors open and the flood—cold, salty, and gritty—came roaring in, pummeling and pounding, an inescapable torrent. People screamed and floundered, pushing at each other, climbing over each other, trampling anyone smaller, fighting their way through the current, desperate to get up the station stairs toward the air they imagined was waiting for them.
And then the last of the lights went out.
Green emergency lights flickered on, self-powered, but they weren’t enough. And they didn’t last. They were extinguished one by one by the rising muddy water.
James and Hu were already pulling the bungee cords off the bikes, off the tanks. They fumbled in the gloom, depending on experience and muscle memory.
Hu pushed the first regulator at Julia; the water was up to her chest. She grabbed the mouthpiece with both hands, pushed it into her mouth. James had already pulled Julia’s mother to the other bike—yanking the whole rig off the bike trailer, he shoved a regulator toward the terrified woman, then helped her get it into her mouth as the water rose to her neck. He looked to Hu, who gave him a quick thumbs-up, pushing his own regulator into his mouth.