Black Wings: New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror

away.'

I turned.

'Wait,' she said. She motioned me to come to her. I walked across the cold floor, and when she sat back down I eased myself onto her lap.

'It is a long night,' she said. 'You know, David, I love you. Sit with me for a while, like we used to do.'

We sat there rocking for some time, until I could hear the floorboards creaking slightly overhead with the movement of footsteps while Grandmother looked up in silence.

'Why are you down here, Grandma?'

'Well, because it's cool down here after such a hot day. You know how hot it was today, don't you? Well, down here it's cool.'

'Are you coming upstairs now, Grandma?'

'Not yet, dear. I can't come back upstairs right away. I'm really supposed to be down here for a while. Will you do me a favor, David?'

'Yes,' I said with tearful eyes, knowing that something was wrong.

'Will you tell your grandfather that I'm all right, and that you were here?'

'Yes.'

'And remember that we love you.'

I kissed her on the cheek, and she let me off of her lap.

I went back to our apartment on the fourth floor. A pale yellow light came from the kitchen. Grandfather sat alone at the kitchen table, his elbow on the table, eyes downcast. He looked up at me when I came in and brought a handkerchief out of his deep pants pocket.

'Grandma says to tell you she's all right,' I said.

Grandfather looked at me with wide eyes. He hadn't expected me to come in by the front door and didn't know I'd been gone.

He lifted me up and held me tightly on his lap. He spoke calmly and treated me as if by some remote chance, after his words changed the world forever, I would be able to cope. He proceeded slowly at first.

'You are becoming aware of certain things, David, so it's time you knew that the world isn't exactly what it appears.' He shifted me on his lap, trying to get more comfortable.

'You remember I came on the boat to New York in 1906? Well, about a year later I got a job working on the New York subway system, which was being built then. I had a friend who'd come with me from Norway — Nels Hanson. We worked in the tunnels because, well, we needed the money to pay rent and buy food; so we stayed. We had to work, Hanson and I and the rodmen — Worklan, Turnbull, and Murphy. A fellow named Benson was an engineer — and there was some odd slumping of the ground he didn't expect. A few of the men were afraid because they didn't know how safe we were down there. I was afraid, too, but we were there to do a job — the sand hoggers, drillers, and the bosses, bless their black hearts.'

'Sand hoggers?'

'That's what they were called.' He paused. 'Building a tunnel is a big job, David. Things happen, people die, people leave, people go through a lot of trouble. Working underground is like working in a city with no sky — a big, dark, dreary place. It was down near the Hudson Terminal, in one of the two lower tubes, that the bad thing happened.

'Benson, the engineer, was ahead down the line, checking out the ground problem. This was before the concrete had been poured. There was a lot of water down there, freezing cold, so we all had our heavy clothes and rubber boots on. We heard this terrible scream coming from down the line, but we couldn't get there very fast. Something had happened to Benson. You know, when some people are frightened really bad, they just aren't themselves anymore. That's what happened to Benson. He kind of fell asleep in his mind.'

'Why?' I asked.

'We didn't know. But later, when he recovered from shock, he said there were strange things in the deepest parts of the tunnel. He said they had been crawling down there and affecting his mind.

'A month later we were down there again, in the lower tunnel, just a few of us: Lars Johnson, our boss — Murphy, McShay, and Sorensen, the man who'd taken over for Benson — and some others, some of the people who live right here in our apartments, David, and who've stuck together for over forty years. I guess there were a halfdozen of us down there on that day.

'It was like a bad dream, David, like the dream you've been having. McShay and Bailey came running back from below. They said that huge white things were in the ground — worms, they said — and Farley, he was a non- union man but tough-minded; he had a pick ax, McShay said, and he tried to kill one of them but couldn't, and they took hold of Farley with big sucking jaws and dragged him down under the ground. It was horrible. No one could help Farley, and we ran back through the tunnel — and in the days following we had horrible thoughts — thoughts we were told by Benson came from underground, thoughts we couldn't understand because the underground things were blind, yet they lived in a world of sound and vibration, and they could hear us.

'For days, no one would go back down there, and construction was held up until a new crew could be found. There were some transfers to other parts of the project. There were rumors that a large hole had been filled in, but there were no more strange stories. The men I worked with scattered from job to job until the subway was finished. But none of them who were in the tunnel that day have ever been able to live in one place for long — because of the dreams. Dreams that may not be dreams at all. Or memories either. Some said McShay and Bailey killed Farley themselves because he was a non-union man. But Mr. Worklan, he thinks maybe those blind creatures under the ground permanently locked into our minds because they can't see or talk, and they got to know where we are. We've come up with all kinds of ideas, but the one that sticks is that those things under the ground are trying to find us again. We don't know why.

'But that's sometimes the way the world is, David. Our idea is that they share our planet but don't know what we are, and maybe no one but us knows about them. So we've been moving around the country, because after each move the dreams stop. We think the dreams mean they are getting close to finding us again, and we don't know what will happen if they do. Most of us decided to band together. We began to study books about a hollow earth, UFOs, and things like that, and we formed a kind of club to delve into these matters. None of it was the truth. I set up the lumber business, first in Minnesota, so we could work and stay together.'

'How can the underground things stay secret?'

'We don't know — but sometimes you can be near something for a long time and not know it's there. We've been trying to find other people who know about them. Once, we thought we'd found someone. He wrote in a magazine that he'd been exploring a deep cave and had seen moving white things in a grotto, but he wouldn't respond to our letters asking if he'd had strange dreams. We tried to tell him about how the underground world is inhabited by these creatures and how they may threaten us. The world is a confusing place, David, and we alone had discovered the strangest thing about it. The man who wrote the article teaches at a university, and in the article he said he believes that there may be many discoveries yet to come about life underground. But we gave up writing to him.'

Grandfather's voice wavered slightly. 'Most of us are tired now, David, like Turnbull's wife, but still afraid. Now and then one of us tried to tell someone else about the creatures, but no one believed — because none of their experiences included what was seen in the tunnel that day. They are right not to believe, David, because what was seen doesn't jibe with what's known. When we began to dream about them again, there was usually time to move, pack up, and run. But we're getting old, and we can't run anymore.'

His voice weakened. 'We kept the secret from our children for a long time. Your Aunt Evelyn found out because she came back to live with us. Your mother was lucky because she'd grown up during a time when there weren't any bad dreams. We think the dreams come when the things are near, and they affect those close to us. When the children were growing up, we had to move only once, from Minnesota to Montana. When all our children were old enough, we told them the story, but they didn't know what to think about it. We told your father, too, but he thought we were crazy. He said maybe we had been given drugs in our water supply down in the tunnel.'

'Where's Mother?' I asked. 'Why didn't she take me with her?'

His hands shook slightly. 'We haven't heard from her. She was very upset after her divorce from your father. She talked about getting an apartment and finding a job before sending for you. She knew you'd be safe for a while. We couldn't understand why she didn't tell anyone before she left. It was very cruel, David, and we didn't know