Two and a half adults had drained his own tank, but Hu’s tank, with only one and a half bodies draining it, still had a useful margin. James gestured to Hu, pointing at the mouthpiece. Hu understood; he passed it over, sharing his air.
James took four breaths, a luxury, but a necessary one, then passed the mouthpiece back. James went through the door first. Hu brought up the rear. He had learned from James, they’d spent time together underwater. Be slow. Be methodical. Keep the beginners between you. Do one thing only, then the next. There’s no rush. Impatience kills. Panic kills. Count to three. Or four.
Once out the door, they bobbed upward, bumping into the ceiling. Hu shared his air with James again. He looked worried, but James refused to acknowledge it. He’d already made up his mind. They were going to live. They hadn’t come this far to die.
Another few breaths from Hu’s tank and James swam away for a quick reconnaissance of the flooded station. He had to find the pedestrian tunnel.
There were bodies here. Too many, most of them floating up toward the ceiling, bobbing there like dreadful balloons. He tried not to think about them, but some of them turned toward him as he passed, he couldn’t ignore their faces.
And fish, there were fish here too! Not a lot, and nothing James could identify, but some struggled feebly in the muddy currents. They wouldn’t survive.
It gave him pause. Maybe later he would think about it. Maybe later someone would be able to explain how they got there. Maybe there’d be “later.” Too many maybes.
At the front of the train, where it had shuddered to a stop, James pulled himself down to look into the first car. His headlights found the motorman’s booth, the driver still behind the controls, his face an angry expression of disbelief and rage. James’ beams illuminated the badge on his chest. It said “Jeffers.”
You stupid schmuck, thought James. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should have just run for home, we could have made it. But no! You had to stop, didn’t you. One more station, one more heroic pickup. Instead of saving a few, you killed us all.
That last thought startled James. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been identifying with the dead. Down among the dead men, he had no choice. Despite his conviction, he still had no certainty.
It didn’t matter what he thought. He kept going. He pushed a little further into the gloom, now exploring along the walls—no, nothing here, nothing here, nothing here. The darkness refused to give up its secrets. The tunnel had to be in the other direction.
Feeling the pressure rising in his lungs, James headed back to Hu and sucked eagerly, much too eagerly, at the regulator. He had to take a minute to recalibrate himself. Slowly, dammit, slowly.
This time he headed around the escalator, feeling along the walls—but carefully. If he bobbed up that diagonal shaft he might not be able to get back—but there it was. The pedestrian tunnel, a darker dark in the dark. Maybe it was his brain playing tricks on his eyes, the way he could “see” the furniture at home when he got up in the middle of the night to pee. And maybe it was a hallucination from nitrogen narcosis. Too many maybes. But no—a little closer and he was sure. It was the tunnel. He turned around, and just as carefully, he worked his way back to the others.
Three more breaths.
Time to switch out the tank that Hu and Julia were using. It didn’t take long, but he had to concentrate, had to be careful. He had to focus.
When he finished, all the headlights were pointed at him. He existed as an oasis of light in a dark universe. He passed his mouthpiece back to the boy and pointed. Time to go.
Everybody but Julia had to carry a tank. They had the two they were still breathing from—and the last two spares.
As a group, they moved, all five of them—James and Hu, Julia and her mother, and the unnamed teen. It was a tough swim; they bounced along the roof of the station, James herding them carefully away from the escalator shaft. Their headlights weaving in the dark.
They made their way slowly toward the promise of escape.
James didn’t know what was at the end of the tunnel. He hoped it wasn’t blocked by debris. Or worse—
There were bodies floating in the pedestrian tunnel. Their headlamps revealed a gauntlet of bobbing shapes. James tried not to think about the panic that must have happened in here, the water flooding in so fast, it would have been like trying to swim up a waterfall. Dark shapes bobbed everywhere. And the floor of the tunnel was littered with everything they’d tried to carry with them.
They paused several times for James to suck air. This was not what he had expected. Or hoped for. They had to push their way through a nightmare, faces coming out of the dark—all too close. It was a bumping gauntlet of horror, a gallery of silent accusations, each body turning in its own final orbit. James tried not to look, tried not to illuminate them, but he had no choice. They were passing through a tunnel of horror—a silent community, patiently waiting for James and the others to join them.
Three more breaths—
And at last, the end. Another set of steps. They half-swam, half-bobbed up the diagonal shaft. At the top—only darkness. James made them wait. He took three breaths and entered first, turning around slowly, looking to see if it was safe.
He could barely make out any details. It was still way too dark in here. But they were definitely in the foyer of the Wiltern tower, the part that had been carved out for a pedestrian entrance to the subway. That much he could recognize, but he was otherwise unfamiliar with the building. The lobby ceiling was high. He didn’t want to get caught up there with no weight-belt to bring him down. There was a railing here, he held onto it against the eddies of current. He could feel himself being pushed this way and that—not a lot, but enough to make him uncomfortable. Outside, the water must still be moving, but he couldn’t tell which way. The gloom was that complete.
James swam back into the tunnel. He took breaths from Hu, then from the boy. He didn’t want to be selfish, but he didn’t want to lose himself to the rapture either. He steadied his breathing and aimed his light around the group. He wasn’t familiar with the layout of the building. This was the lobby of the theater. He grabbed his grease pencil and scrawled on the plastic slate. “Stairwell?”
Hu shrugged. He didn’t know either.
But Julia’s mother reached out and grabbed his arm. She pointed outward and then toward the left. Over there—
But they couldn’t just swim over. The problem was buoyancy. They needed to get across the lobby without rising so high they couldn’t get to the door.
James looked back into the tunnel. A weird thought—
Three more breaths.
He swam back into the pedestrian tunnel, searching. The bottom was littered with the abandoned belongings of the dead. James was looking for suitcases—the canvas ones with one handle on top and another on the side. Whoever these poor fools had been, they weren’t smart enough to leave their lives behind. James tested several of the cases for weight, then pulled the two heaviest back to the end.
Three more breaths.
Hu understood immediately. He’d take one suitcase, holding it by the top handle. James would take the other. Julia’s mom and the teen would hold on to the side handles. Hu would hold Julia’s hand. They should be able to make it.
Three more breaths—and James gave the thumbs-up signal.
As a group, they moved, a curious underwater tableau, a cluster of bobbing lights that revealed air tanks and baggage and faces tight against any further horrors in the dark. The Korean woman kept pointing and gesturing. James kept checking back with her, but in the darkness, it was impossible to know if they were actually heading in the right direction. He had to stop for breath again—and even a second time, until he realized they were paralleling a wall. But he wasn’t sure if it was the outer wall of the lobby or the one they had been swimming toward. He didn’t know this building, but maybe the lobby wasn’t rectangular.