The worst thing is that you're too tired to be happy. The pain in your foot is clawing its way up your leg and your vision is starting to blur around the edges, curling up like an old photograph. But you bury your face in Chris' neck and close your eyes and there's a moment, you think, when you can't feel any of it.
You do feel his hands on your back; he's clutching you tight enough to make it hard to breathe, and he's whispering things you can't hear, but you feel his breath on your ear.
"Chris," you mumble. You're not sure you can come up with anything else.
"Kid," he says, "Justin," and you hear that.
Behind you, Nick exhales loudly and says, "Holy shit."
You look up and see someone standing behind Chris; you can't remember his name, but you've seen him around. One of Alex's boys. He's smiling, just the barest curling of his lips, but he looks like he's holding back.
Then you hear the dogs again and jerk upright. Your bad foot touches the ground and the pain roars again, and you clutch Chris' shoulders desperately. Out in the tunnel where you came from, AJ says something, and then Chris says, loudly, "Come ON!" and AJ shows up, and everyone's moving. Chris hands you a gun and puts his hand around your waist. "JC! Move!" he yells, and you wait, and you hear the dogs come closer, but it's not as bad as the last time because Chris' arm is tight around you and the gun is heavy and reassuring in your hand.
There's still no JC, and Chris swears and starts to turn. It's a little hard to negotiate, because you're lightheaded and every time you move, your head spins and your stomach clenches, but the barking is really loud now, and there's just no time, and Chris screams for JC and you see AJ and whatsisface from the sewers run back towards the circle of light, and then you just hear the sharp whine of the guns.
Chris spins you around suddenly, roughly, and pushes you against the wall with hard hands, props you up like a puppet and leaves, runs towards the screams and the barking dogs and the bullets flying, and he's yelling something, but you can't hear it because you put weight on your foot again and you felt the broken ends of the bones grind together, and you may have whimpered his name, but you don't remember it.
You come to and the stench of ozone is so heavy that you can't breathe, so you lie on the dirty tunnel floor and gasp for breath. Someone's screaming somewhere nearby, just around the corner, you think, out in the big tunnel, in rage or sorrow or agony or all of the above, but it sounds more like a wounded animal bellowing, with the echo and the sound of bullets fired from regular guns.
You realise that there is no more whine of electric guns and no more barking, and it's just one man screaming. You force yourself to open your eyes. The guns fall silent, and a second later, the scream cuts off harshly. You know it was Chris, but you don't understand why.
Then someone else says, "There'll be more. There's gonna be a lot more, so just STOP--" and Chris says, in a voice that's hoarse from screaming,
"I'll fucking stop when I want to--"
and you sit up quickly, too quickly because your head spins madly again, and say with as much force as you can muster, "Chris?"
You almost pass out again, and amazingly, fucking insanely, you think about the pills and you want one fiercely, need it like nothing else. For just a second, because then Chris is back, crouching over you and pulling you into his arms, hugging you too hard, because now you really can't breathe, but he's made of concrete or something, because you can't struggle loose until AJ says,
"Jesus fucking Christ, you asshole, we gotta move, move, MOVE!"
You don't even notice at first. You have a real problem keeping your thoughts focused on anything at all, except moving and the pain in your foot and Chris, but later, you think you must be the most self-centered moron in the world, because it takes you at least half an hour to figure out that JC isn't there anymore.
By then, you're too exhausted to say anything, so you just hobble on and try not to think about it.
You hear Chris say, "We can't go back there, can we?" and the guy, whose name you think is something short, like just initials, only the initials were JC, right, and AJ; how many guys do you know who don't have real names, anyway? - says, "They'll be scouring the whole system by now. Alex must have evacuated already."
"What about--" Chris says, and the guy says,
"They'll take the folks on the upper levels, too. They'll be safe."
You can't figure out what they're talking about, so you just lean your head on Chris' shoulder and try to think about the floor underneath your feet and how you'd like it to stay there and not come any closer to your face.
"Hold on a little longer, okay?" Chris whispers.
"Okay," you say into his shirt, and only now do you realise that he's not just the usual dirty, but actually reeking of blood and that eternal ozone. You blink and raise your head and squint into the gloom. "What happened?" you ask, even though you're not sure you want to know.
He doesn't answer you, but you feel him tense against you, coil right up like a steel spring. And you guess that's answer enough for right now.
You don't even notice when you pass out, just become aware again and you're on your back on the ground, your head propped on Chris' sturdy thigh. His hand is stroking your head, but it's more like a nervous tic than a caress. You twist your head to the side and see Nick and the guy from Alex' troupe sitting side by side with their backs against the opposite wall. Nick has leaned his head against the guy's shoulder, and you're pretty sure he's asleep. AJ is smoking, and you wonder when you got to a level where the gas leaks aren't an issue.
You wake up later, how much later, you're not sure, but they've turned off the flashlights and it's pitch black. Chris is curled up against you, pressed into your back like he would prefer to be on the inside, and he's shaking and you're pretty sure he's crying. You didn't know Chris could cry, and you can't remember why he would be crying, even though you have a feeling you should.
You want to turn over and put your arms around him, but you're not sure it would be welcome, so you just lie there and feel his tears seep through your shirt.
The next time you awake, it's to searing, blinding pain and hands holding you down.
"Shh, shh," Chris says, his voice raw with concern, "just bear it, D's setting the bone," and you see AJ and Nick hanging on to your legs with all their might and Alex' guy - D, of course - pulling at your foot and it fucking hurts, and you think you're screaming even though you try not to.
It's easier to walk with the splint, at least, or easier to hobble. "We're gonna go up now," Chris says. His voice is still a little rough, but he doesn't sound like he's got a throatful of nails anymore.
"Up where?" you ask, and the corner of his mouth twitches a little when he says,
"Up there." You look up, and there's the distinctive ring of a manhole right above you.
Everyone else seems to be busy with something else, so you lean in and kiss him, just quickly, but he grabs you and pulls you back.
"Goddamnit," he says when he lets you go again. "Goddamnit," and it sounds like his voice is breaking a little.
They have to help you climb up, but when you're up and Chris is up, D just nods at you and turns back, AJ flicks his cigarette on the ground and grinds it out with the heel of his boot and follows him.
Nick frowns at you as if he's not sure just what to say. You're pretty sure you have no idea what to say.
"Stay alive," he finally mutters and disappears down the hole.
"What--" you say, but Chris interrupts you.
"D's gonna get Joey and Baby," he says. Oh, right. You still don't know what happened, really. To anyone. You don't think this is the right time to ask. Instead you grope for Chris' hand and squeeze it and look around.
It's night, but the sky is showing the faintest promise of colour along the horizon. You're standing in the empty yard of some great abandoned factory, and beyond the crumbling machinery and the enormous, precariously leaning buildings, you see a jagged treeline silhouetted in deeper black against blue-black sky.
"No more sewers," Chris says.
"Where will we live?" you ask.
"I don't know," he says, and that's all either of you say in a while.
epilogue
|
