'All of them, sire?'
'All of them.'
The rain drenched them all, spilling onto the streets and into the gutters. It swirled down the drains and sewer grates, into the tunnels below.
The zombies followed.
They followed Pigpen in single file, while God darted ahead of them, exploring the shadows. The glow stick in the cat's collar flashed neon green in the darkness. The cat stopped occasionally, licking his paws until they caught up. Each step took them deeper and deeper into the network of tunnels spreading like veins beneath the city. The silence and darkness were overwhelming-the quiet broken only by the faint sound of dripping water. The dampness seeped through their clothing.
Frankie shivered, wishing she had something more than the hospital gown to wear. The thin cloth barely covered her, and her ass was an ice cube.
She decided she'd conserved her glow stick long enough and snapped it on, activating the chemicals inside the plastic cylinder. The darkness surrounded the light, as if trying to extinguish it. She slogged forward, her fingers trailing along the wall to her left, and then yanked them away. Slimy moisture dripped from her fingertips. Wincing at the thick, unmistakable reek of raw sewage, Frankie wiped
her hand on her leg and buried her nose in the neckline of the gown.
'Maybe we should have stayed upstairs,' she joked.
The ceiling rose and sank like a roller coaster. They walked farther along the tunnel, alternately ducking under pipes and stepping over puddles. Jim gripped Danny's hand, making sure they stayed close in the darkness.
A small arch led into another tunnel, reeking of hydrogen sulfate. A pipe in the wall dripped black sludge. It felt like the weight of the city was crushing down on them.
Pigpen and God led them on, emerging into a new passageway. They stepped over a jumbled mound of cinder blocks and a discarded roll of copper tubing. The floor was dry, and the darkness wasn't as thick. Thin beams of light from the burning buildings in the streets above filtered down through overhead grates.
Frankie caught a whiff of burning flesh from the streets above, and wished for the darkness again. A roach the size of a half-dollar popped beneath her heel. She thought back to her dream in the hospital, of the plants and the insects becoming reanimated after humanity and the other life forms were destroyed. She opened her mouth to mention it to Jim and Don, but then decided against it. No sense alarming the others because of a dream.
Pigpen stopped, tilting his head and listening.
'What is it?' Forrest whispered.
'God heard something,' the vagrant breathed. 'His hackles are up.'
They peered into the darkness, but saw nothing.
Danny squeezed Jim's hand, and clenched the bat tighter in his other fist.
'Daddy, I'm scared.'
'It's okay. None of us are going to let anything get you. The cat probably just smelled a mouse or something.'
'But what if the mouse is one of them?'
God prowled ahead, and Pigpen followed. The rest of the group plodded along behind them.
'So how far does this tunnel run?' Forrest asked, whispering now.
'Almost the whole way,' Pigpen answered. 'They ain't finished building it, but it's sturdy enough. We'll pass a few rough spots, places under construction. We used to sleep near one of them sometimes, when we couldn't get below Grand Central. There's a bomb shelter a few stories below our feet too.'
'A bomb shelter?' Smokey was puzzled. 'Who built that?'
'Mr. Ramsey. There's bunches of them under the city, and I know where a few of them are located. Most of them got built during the Cold War, and they've sat empty since then. But folks live in them now. Last time I checked, Ramsey's was vacant, but it's got food and stuff inside.'
'Well shit,' Leroy grumbled, 'why don't we just make for that? Hole up inside, barricade ourselves? Might be easier than going to the airport and stealing a plane.'
Forrest snapped a glow stick and wedged it into his belt. 'If we do that, and the zombies found us, then we'd be trapped. I say we stick with the original plan. I don't want to spend the rest of my days holed up in a bunker.'
'You've got that right,' Jim said. He thought back to how this whole thing had started-trapped in a backyard bunker while the dead raged above him. He didn't want it to end that way as well.
They continued down the tunnel. Minutes later, they passed a manhole shaft. Shelves made from pallet boards and scrap wood hung over the ladder rungs, along with soiled sleeping bags. Needles, crack vials, broken bottles, and shriveled condoms lay scattered on the floor. The darkness grew thicker again, enveloping them all. The temperature dropped, and they could see their breath reflected in the soft light of the glow sticks.
'It's getting colder,' Etta whispered.
'That's because we're getting farther away from the fires,' Pigpen explained.
Frankie shivered again, and pulled the hospital gown closer.
They came to a section where muddy water dripped from the ceiling, forming a pool on the floor. A layer of scummy film floated atop it. It stank worse than the corpses in the city streets above them. More cockroaches scuttled through the detritus. But that was it. No humans or rats, undead or otherwise. They skirted the pool and moved on.
