Beyond Perdition, page 25
‘I don’t think we should stay above ground too long and as I don’t know where the nearest nuclear bunker is, I say we find the subway or even the storm drains and see if we can progress underground.’
The rest of the group agreed with Mr Andes’s suggestion and began looking out for a way to leave Central Street.
Five minutes later they arrived at the entrance to the subway. A flight of worn stone steps descended into shadow. At the bottom, a broken turnstile barricaded the way to the first platform. More missing person posters were plastered across a small information kiosk and over the plywood boards on an abandoned ticket office. There was a walled map of the underground system depicting the central lines, the changeover points and the slow and fast train routes. Red, green, and blue lines ran vertically, horizontally, diagonally and perpendicularly creating, what to the untrained eye appeared to be a biological schematic showing arterial paths. The legend in the top corner did little to enlighten the reader.
‘This is why I don’t take public transport’ Logan said jokingly, ‘look at this, you have to be a cryptologist to decipher this shit, I mean… really! Who were they kidding with this?’
‘It’s unlikely this is even accurate now’ Mr Andes began, ‘power cuts and cave-ins will have rerouted a lot of the trains, we’re best working this out ourselves.’
‘You’re not expecting to find any working trains now, are you?’
‘No, but I don’t doubt the carriages have been re-purposed as survivor shelters. People might have even been able to obtain small generators to power particular sections of the rail, who knows what we’ll find’
The first platform was deserted. Several old newspapers and glossy fliers littered the ground. The walls were covered in what once would have been backlit advertisements for perfume, the latest ‘Mills and Boon’ title and some theatre production of the Lion King from July to September, three years ago. Someone had removed the bulbs from behind the casing leaving the posters untouched. A light fixture in a fire exit sign had also been lifted as if someone were collecting the filaments, perhaps to illuminate another section of tunnel somewhere deep within this subterranean labyrinth.
‘Let’s head down the ‘B’ line and see where it takes us’ Mr Andes said lowering himself onto the tracks.
As their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they could make out several sealed emergency exits, defunct phone-lines and abandoned workman’s tools. There was a smell of damp and several stagnant puddles of ruddy water pooled between the railroad ties. Ruined ballast had led to broken drainage systems and upended concrete sleepers protruding from the trackbed.
The state of dereliction continued down the tunnel with the only change coming from a curvature in the line and a marked intersection. They chose their route based purely on instinct, the underlying gravel between the steel girders replaced by soft silt. Emergency lighting revealed the edge of a second platform. This one was a fair bit larger than the first, with a small boutique behind iron meshing and a stripped escalator leading to the upper street. Although there was no one inhabiting this section, there were still signs of life. A flattened cardboard box, a busker’s cap, beer cans and chocolate bar wrappers. Someone had burned their initials with a zip lighter on the tiling. More advertising billboards adorned the curved tunnel walls between further unreadable subway maps and multilingual safety signs.
‘The next station is a major one if I’m not mistaken. It’s most likely gonna have people, so keep your guard up. If we pass there it should be a straight shot to the end of the Central Line and when we resurface, we hopefully have bypassed a big chunk of the city.’
Mason couldn’t help but be reminded of his morning commute to work, the daily rat race and yet in the comparative quietude, he almost missed the din of city life. Those people he once observed, earphones in, heads bowed, who was to say any of them were even alive now?
Suddenly, the sound of raised voices broke him out of his nostalgia. There was an argument ahead, maybe fifty or a hundred feet in front, it was impossible to tell. The word ‘Titan’ was being used repeatedly among much profanity.
Mr Andes signalled sharply with his gloved hands and the group came to an abrupt halt.
‘He’s blocking the main supply routes.’
‘Then have some men go down there and finish him off, we got stacks of ammo, it can’t be that hard.’
‘Have you ever seen a Titan, I mean not just on the news, for real life, up close?’
‘No, but...’
‘They soak up bullets like a sponge. They’re strong enough to rip out pieces of track and use them as toothpicks. If this bastard has decided to make his home on the ‘D’ line there ain’t nothing we can do about it.’
‘Does Ariel know?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then what you waiting for, consult her, she’ll know what to do, do I have to do everything around here?’
The sound of fading footsteps signalled the true end of the conversation. The group continued
‘What do you think that was about?’ Logan asked.
‘Not sure, all I know is we don’t want to run into a Titan; they’re some of the most powerful Demons in Hell. Satan uses them during large demonic takeovers, I wouldn’t fancy our chances against such a thing.’
‘Even you, I mean with all your powers and stuff?’
‘Even me’
The tunnel opened into a well-illuminated chamber, Bridrick Station. Concave ceilings revealed palatial-like frescos ruined by encroaching ivy and bracken. The light was produced by rows of votive candles, kerosene lamps and ignited oil drums between which were a series of tarpaulin sheets strung between posts and cinder-block pillars. Where there were no pitched tents, there were small rectangular rugs or prayer mats pointed towards a bronze statue of a woman. Her huge Amazonian frame and exaggerated bust glinted in the station’s manufactured light. She wore the attire of a female warrior with a huge curved sword hanging from her studded belt-line. Her hair had been carved into box braids and neatly tied back in a ponytail, the attention to detail was stunning. A few of the mats were occupied with men bowing down to the effigy, chanting incomprehensibly.
Further across the platform, where the track divided into three, was one of the re-purposed carriages Mr Andes had referred to. The company logo had been painted over, net curtains had been added to the windows and even a chimney stack rose from the centre. Other similar carriages stretched along the track, all of them resplendent with various homely features: hanging flower baskets, picketed fences, recycle bins and door numbers as if the owners were looking to perfectly simulate or recreate the average American suburban home. Efforts had been made to conceal the carriage wheel and exposed electricals. Someone had gone to lengths to further authenticate the structures by adding satellite dishes to the roofs but this had to be merely for aesthetic purposes.
‘Seems there’s even a class system down here. The rich live in the carriages, the poor inhabit the platforms in tents and the like and they’ve already established a religion of sorts,’ Mr Andes observed, ‘whoever that bronze deity is, is the focus of their worship. I don’t think it’s safe to stop here, we don’t know what kind of reception we’ll get. I say we continue to a less populated area, rest for a while, we’re all very tired now I know. The group concurred and made their way around the tents and carriage housing, even passing a few operating shops trading in medical supplies and food items.
‘It’s like a real working city’, Mason commented as they entered another dark tunnel leading to the next station.
2
It seemed an eternity before they once again stepped out into a lit area. This time it was not a station but the entrance to some kind of booth. Its glass windows had been reinforced with metal bars whilst several padlocks hung like silver trinkets over what constituted the entrance.
‘The only way on is through here but someone’s locked the door.’
Logan stepped in front of Mr Andes and peered between the iron bars. In the semi gloom, he could make out a bank of controls and a series of monitors.
‘It’s some kind of CCTV station probably the subway’s security hub.’
‘You’re right about that’, came an unfamiliar voice from behind. The group turned as one to see a slight figure, his hair long and curtained.
‘I’m guessing you guys want to get through?’
Before anyone could answer, the man was fumbling with the padlocks.
‘I gotta keep it locked, you don’t know what manner of creature could sneak in and play havoc with the controls. The name’s Ty, Ariel’s chief security officer. I’m known down here as the eyes and ears of the underground. All communication is relayed through me. In fact, I’ve pretty accurately charted your journey across the ‘B’ line through Brixton to here. I’d ask you your business but then that’s none of mine. I can tell you’re not part of what goes on up there, those damn Triple Sixers, so I can only assume you’re wanting safe passage, temporary shelter, something along those lines?’
Ty had finally removed the last of the padlocks and shouldered the door open.
‘Let me just get the generator going and we can have some light on in here, hey’
There was a hint of a Canadian accent as he spoke but it was faint as if it were lost to years of practised American.
A low buzz was quickly followed by illumination as not only the roof lights came on but the multitude of LED’s between the screens flickered into life.
‘Had to power the system down whilst I was away, kept just the Central Station cams on. Ariel has been preaching on conserving power.’
‘This Ariel you refer to, we heard her name mentioned back there, who is she?’
‘Or to put the question more accurately, what is she? She’s a God, a female deity with divine powers who has protected us down here ever since the blasts. She provides for us, nurses the sick, protects us from those above that wish to do us harm and all she asks is that we serve her.’
‘Was that her statue back at Brixton, the bronze woman?’
‘One of many yes. She has effigies built all over the place to remind people.’
‘Where is she now?
‘Most likely in her quarters if she’s not tending to the people in the Contamination zone. We’ve had some bad cases of radiation poisoning there.’
‘I’d like to meet this Ariel’, Mr Andes said suddenly.
‘You have to request an audience through a council member, I can help you with that once I’m done in here.’
‘That’s very kind.’
Ty toggled a joystick next to one of the nearest monitors and enlarged the display before moving across to tend to the others.
‘Well, the good news is, there have been no emergency beacons set off, that makes my shift a whole lot easier.’
Mason peered at the screens. On the first he noticed men in high viz working on the track, the next few monitors depicted lengths of the tunnel, until the fifth showed a gateway flanked by two armed guards.
‘Where’s that?’ He asked
‘Contamination zone. The guards are placed there mainly for our safety. We don’t want to stumble in there by mistake and get sick.’ Ty moved towards one of the consoles and removed a small sachet from his pocket full of purple coloured powder (in some way it looked like washing up granules).
‘You guys don’t mind do ya? It’s just I’ve been jonesing for a fix since morning, it’s actually why I left my station.’
Before waiting for a reply, he emptied the contents across the console and shaped it as if it were a line of mauve cocaine.
‘What is that stuff?’
Ty looked up, a strange puzzled, perturbed expression on his face ‘Devil Dust’
‘Never heard of it’, Logan replied, ‘it’s a stimulant right? Like Angel Dust?’
‘Ha and then some’ Ty took an old banknote and rolled it in his hands.
‘Tell me four years ago I’d be snorting Devil dust with a hundred, I’d of called you crazy but, hey, look at me, life’s funny. I doubt this currency’s worth the paper it’s printed on now.’
He positioned the rolled note over the line of powder and inhaled deeply.
Logan suddenly envisioned the dashboard of his car or the desk of his office or the rim of the public toilet cisterns. Suddenly a strong urge to partake took over, leaving only when Ty offered the tail end of the line.’
‘Man you should try this shit, I’ve done my fair share of blow, but this... Back on the surface, I was doing dope, crack, meth , Xanax, special K, you name it till someone showed me this. It’s a reconfiguration of MDMA, has some bullshit chemical in I can’t name, but you’ll agree it does the job. The problem is I have to keep paying Ariel’s men to go to the surface and get more and those greedy bastards keep raising their prices. I’ve already blown through six of my ten food stamps.
Ignoring the scrutinizing glare of the others, Logan leant forward and inhaled. As he breathed in the purple granules it was as if the room were suddenly filled with vibrant colours. The consoles lost their hard edges and melted into shapeless forms like the heated oil in a lava lamp. Mr Andes’s face twisted and folded, stretched and contorted whilst his voice, though clear, grew increasingly distant.
‘Hey man’ Ty was calling, ‘come back to us man, this stuff will really get you the first time you use it, that’s why you gotta be careful. I never snort more than five lines a day and usually have a downer on hand in case it gets too extreme.’
Slowly the room began to return to clarity, the colours fading.
‘Bloody hell, that’s some crazy hallucinogenic shit.’
‘Well, there’s a reason they call it Devil Dust. People have had bad trips on it. A few years ago, someone on the ‘F’ line started stabbing himself, removing his intestines like a red ribbon. He was alive for a good five minutes just pulling out his organs and throwing them on the track.’
‘That’s horrible’ Mason replied, ‘Why on Earth would anyone want to take that?’
Logan shrugged and smiled; he had been asked the same question about coke by his late wife. The truth was there was no real reason, no reason that would be acceptable for a non-user to hear. It just felt good, it felt right and already he was craving another fix of the purple powder.
Ignoring the disapproving looks of the others. ‘Where can I get more? You know… for the road’.
‘I’ll hook you up with a good Surface Scout. Tell him you’re a newbie, he’ll likely cut you a deal. But hey before I do anything for you, how are you guys sorted for the night?’
‘We were just gonna find a quiet place to settle down, a non-populated station or something.’
‘Nah, that won’t do. Ariel’s men will think you’re drifters. If there’s one thing Ariel ain’t keen on, it’s drifters. She’ll have you hauled up in the Courts, charge you with spying for the Triple Sixers. No, you guys can stay at my pad, it’s pretty sweet actually. Just let me finish down here and I’ll take ya.’
‘It used to be me and two other guys, working down here on shifts you know’ Ty continued, ‘but I haven’t seen Mike or Pete for nearly two weeks. I tried using the cam and audio feeds to get a location on them but nothing. They most likely resurfaced and just never made it back.’
‘Demons?’ Daniel asked looking up from one of the larger close circuit screens.
‘Demons, rads, public executions, could be anything. Why do you think I never leave here? It’s kinda easier for me, cos I was here before the blasts for about six months.’
‘How come? Logan asked.
‘Well I was living with my mum and my stepdad and I got in this big argument. You know I can’t even remember what it was about now, but anyway I got kicked out, ‘stead of wandering the streets, a friend showed me an abandoned section of the subway. You know when they originally built the line they built hundreds of miles of track that are no longer used.’
‘I’d heard that somewhere, yeah, communities lived underground like in tunnels or storm drains. There was some documentary on it.’
‘Something like that, yeah, but it was just me and my mate. He was the same guy that introduced me to Devils Dust, only he had it in pill form.’
‘You still in contact?’
‘Not unless you want a séance. He OD’d right in front of me as well. I wanted to go straight then but...’
‘Hold on a sec. guys, looks like there’s activity at Midfield Station.’ Ty zoomed-in magnifying the high-resolution image.
‘Damn, the audio’s down but it looks like there’s some kind of deal on down there. See there, people are always trading in illicit merchandise, seems rifle ammunition has been making the rounds recently. Ariel only wants appointed men to be armed but people still stockpile weaponry, you know, just in case.’
‘I bet it’s cos of that Titan we heard of’ Mason said
‘A Titan hey, fuck me, been months since we’ve had to deal with one of them. I wonder if Ariel knows. Trust me, she’ll be able to sort it. She killed the last one with her bare hands. I think it should be safe to go now, I doubt there’s gonna be much more happening. Where did they say this Titan was?’
‘’The ‘D’ line if I remember’
‘Damn, that’s the one place I don’t have feeds, no wonder I hadn’t seen it before. There ain’t much that usually escapes me down here. Come on guys, let’s get to my pad.’
The walk was a straight line across a broken section of track. There were no lights but natural shafts of illumination beamed down from a high curved ceiling creating faint spotlights on the runners.
‘Just up ahead. Moved in quite recently, but I think you’ll be pretty impressed with what I’ve done with the place.’
They arrived at a door marked ‘electrics cupboard’.
‘That sign’s just to put off outsiders. It’s quite common even under Ariel’s reign for people to try and break into your shelter and steal things. In my last place, I had my speakers and my entire CD collection nicked. I’ve only just rebuilt my music library but my current speakers ain’t as good.’
