Nocturnal: A Novel

known as Mommy. With all Bryan had seen and experienced in the last few days, he had no reason to doubt Aggie’s story. There was no question that Aggie believed every word of it — you couldn’t fake that kind of fear.

This had to work. He had to find these things, find the one with the chain-whips, find Pookie.

They walked through the tunnel, along a narrow ledge that paralleled the rails. Flashlights played off grimy white-tiled walls and cinder-filled tracks. They didn’t have long before the station opened again for morning trains. Bryan led, followed by Aggie and the others. John Smith brought up the rear.

Only five minutes into the tunnel, Aggie tapped Bryan on the shoulder.

Bryan turned. “Is this it?”

Aggie’s hands shook, making his flashlight beam jitter on the white tiles. “I don’t know, man. I think I walked about this far. I can’t really remember.”

“You better,” Bryan said, “and fast.” Aggie looked up the tunnel, down the tunnel. He looked at the walls, searching for something.

That scent …

Had Bryan imagined it? He breathed deep through his nose … there it was again, the smell that made him want to do something, made him want to protect.

He put a hand on the tile wall, then knelt on one knee. He looked left, sniffed, paused, looked right, sniffed.

Stronger to the right.

He stood and gently pushed Aggie behind him, then walked on. Yes, stronger.

Footsteps behind him.

“Yo, pig,” Adam said. “What is it?”

Bryan sniffed deep, kept walking. “Aggie brought a baby out of here last night. I think I can smell it.”

The odor grew stronger as he walked. This same exact scent had made him dizzy in the hospital. Bryan felt his hunter’s excitement building. The smell started to fade, just a little, but he could tell it was weaker. He turned and retraced his steps. The scent again grew in intensity — when it was at its peak, he stopped.

He knelt … stronger still the lower he got. Bryan dropped to his hand and knees, bent his head and sniffed where the tiled wall met the narrow walkway.

Strongest of all.

He looked up at Aggie. “Is this it?”

“Maybe,” Aggie said. “I just don’t know.”

Bryan stood. He raised a foot.

Aggie grabbed his shoulder. “Wait! There’s like pillars and stuff right behind there. It’s booby-trapped to collapse. Be careful.”

Bryan lowered his foot. He tapped on the tile wall with his knuckles. It sounded hollow. He reached to the right, knocked there to test the sound — solid, like a tile wall should be.

“Give me some light.”

Flashlight beams danced, reflecting off the dirty hexagonal tiles. Bryan leaned in. Right there … was that a darker line of mortar? He drew his knife and slid the point along the line … the blade slipped through. He angled the blade down and pried. A thin, black gap rewarded the effort.

“Shine it in here.”

Adam pointed his flashlight into the gap. Bryan saw bits of a tunnel beyond. He slid his fingers into the gap. “Everyone look out,” he said, and then he yanked. The fake wall split down the middle, shreds of plywood and bits of tile flying onto the tracks.

Four flashlights played into the narrow tunnel. Inside, Bryan saw a line of hodge-podge brick-and-masonry pillars extending off into the distance.

“That’s it,” Aggie said.

Bryan didn’t need the confirmation, because he could smell that this was it. He leaned down until his nose touched the ground. Here.

Aggie leaned in. “That’s where I set him down. Go in and you’ll see footsteps in the dirt, follow them real careful.”

Bryan stood. He took a flashlight from Adam, then entered the tunnel. He played the beam across the ceiling, the walls, the floor. He saw the footsteps Aggie described.

Aggie grabbed his sleeve. “I did my part, now lemme go. Please don’t make me go back in, please.”

Bryan felt bad for the man, but not that bad. Aggie could be the difference between finding Pookie alive or not finding him at all.

And no matter what, someone had to pay for Robin.

All the eyes … all the teeth.

“You’re coming with us,” Bryan said. He turned and looked at John. “You watch Aggie. If he tries to leave, shoot him in the leg.”

John nodded. “Sure thing.”

John wasn’t going to shoot Aggie. Bryan knew that, but hopefully Aggie didn’t.

“Everyone follow me,” Bryan said, then carefully put his left foot in the first footprint.

The Eagle

The snake-face man lifted Dr. Metz up high, one hand curving up under the old man’s ass, the other cupped around the back of his neck.

Guilty! Guilty!

Pookie couldn’t draw a breath. It felt like he wasn’t taking in air at all. He closed his eyes again — he couldn’t watch this.

Rex’s horitzontal thumb lifted, then pointed down. “Sly, execute the sentence!”

Metz screamed, but it was a short scream that ended with a sickening snap.

The crowed roared in bloodthirsty approval, a passionate chorus that hurt Pookie’s ears and shook his body.

He heard and felt the masked men brushing past him to remove Metz’s body, then felt them brush by again as they returned to wherever they had come from.

“Next criminal!” Rex’s every word was a hoarse-throated scream, every syllable thick with madness and psychotic lust.

“Him! Bring me that one!”

Open your eyes, open your eyes.

But Pookie could not. He just couldn’t.

Hands grabbed at his body. His eyes opened of their own accord as panic gripped him, pulled at his heart and kicked his stomach, and when he looked forward he saw only one thing.

Rex Deprovdechuk, pointing his way.

Bloodhound

Bryan couldn’t see the smell, but it might as well have been a glowing rope hanging in the still air. There wasn’t much circulation down here — what had been barely detectable in the train tunnel now filled his nose and mind. The scent called to him at a base level, made him want to kill anything that might harm the source. It was so powerful; Bryan hoped he didn’t find that source somewhere down here — if he did, he didn’t know what he might do.

After leaving the booby-trapped pillars behind, they moved faster — as fast as he could through a narrow tunnel made of dirt and broken brick, chipped concrete, bits of rusted metal and charred wood.

Then, noises. Faint, nothing but a whisper at first, a whisper that was lost in the sounds of Bryan’s movement. He stopped, made the others stand still. He listened and understood: it was the sound of a crowd, tinny