Peyote Underground

“So, we’re covered for this ride, right?”

“Yes, everyone gets two dollars and seventy cents,” said Danos. “Highsmith counted it over.” Dawson looked to Highsmith and he nodded.

“Oh, man. Look at us, The Panzers, getting covered by Maxis to ride the I90.” Dawson thumbed his leather vest to emphasize his new patch. “This is my first time on the I90 and I’ll be riding as a Panzer.”

“Keep your cool,” directed Danos. He raised his hand and they all stopped walking. “Let’s huddle.” He divided the money into the willing hands of his gang and they stuffed it down their jean pockets. “When the stairs open, we’ll need to be quick. Don’t touch any of the railings either.” The wind stopped howling, making the station quiet, then it picked up again. The station turned a darker orange than it already was, as the wind pelted the never-ending stormy gas against the high glass windows.

“Don’t wander off,” said Highsmith, “you’re wearing our colours, but Scampers will mistake you for a Slav. Throw you in a line.” The younger recruits gulped. “Po?” She was ready with her satellite computer strapped across her shoulders. “I’m gonna need you to hack that drone again and get it starting the stair sequence.”

“Sure, but the connection’s weak so we’ll only have a minute… unless you want to pay.”

“A minute’s fine.”

Po finished typing then was manually controlling the drone. Through the windows they could see it flying, battling the orange storm. Then it disappeared into the darkness. They waited for it to access a terminal that could only be reached outside.

“Be cool,” said Pony. “Follow the signs for Tunnel-South.”

The siren started, and the steel gate concealing the stairs rose. The twelve members of The Panzers rushed to the opening together. Orange steam emitted from the grates but they welcomed it. The toxicity was outside not inside.

*Thirty Minutes Later*

They didn’t think the woman and child were going to make it, the way they pulled on each other as they ran, cargo hanging off them, heels dragging along the asphalt. Their screams echoed down Tunnel-South and poured out its mouth where they all stood, keenly watching. None dared stepping down onto the tracks.

“I’ve seen enough,” Mimey said. “These fucking Slaws get themselves killed every week running the I90.” He gripped the neck of his banjo and swung it forward so he could play. Eyes closed, reclining on a steel subway bench behind them, Mimey strummed the decrepit instrument, playing the pour souls a final tune.

“Let me get a better look, Danos,” Pony remarked. “I want to see the red paint.”

“No,” Danos replied, “watch from where you are.”

Scampers shifted over to the mouth of the tunnel from the opposite side to get a better look. A few were laughing and pointing. “Yessir, red paint, red paint,” one of them chanted—his eyes dark and sallow, cheeks so sunken his skin looked transparent.

“HALP!” screamed the mother. She was closer now; Danos saw she was dragging a small, metal wagon. It creaked and rolled from side to side as she struggled.

Danos felt Highsmith’s eyes on him, judging him, but he shouted to the woman anyways: “Goddamnit, drop the rope and save yourself!”

“HALP!” she screamed, outstretching her hand. Then she fell. On her knees first, then flat on her stomach. The child screamed and fell as well, the wagon rolling over her.

Danos hunkered to his haunches and peered around the brick edge of the tunnel. He couldn’t see much other than dark shapes sprawled over the tracks. “Lady, you better get your ass in gear and run!” If she dies, she dies, he thought. Then, if she dies… it’s on you.

“No, it’s not,” he gritted. But it’s how you’ll feel.

Highsmith’s eyes were cold and serious, “Can’t be chief if you’re dead,” he paused, “better not, Danos.”

He’d still not received any response from the woman but could hear her groaning in pain. Angrily, he said: “Lady, if you don’t get up the I90—”

“Oh, shut up!” interrupted the woman—her accent thick. “My daughter… ughAHH! Stuck! If want to halp… halp, Scuz!”

“It’s laaaaate,” said Mimey, and sped his fingers on the banjo strings.

Po put her hands over her eyes and shook her head. “Okay, I can’t watch,” she gasped.

“Red paint, red PAINT!,” the derelict Scamper started up again. “Gonna see the red paint.” He groped himself over his stained cargo-pants.

“No, we’re not.” Danos stepped over the concrete ledge, legs slightly bent, bracing for impact onto the asphalt. Highsmith, whose eyes had never left Danos, didn’t hesitate. He careened himself over the side.

Po and Pony shouted in surprise, no time to react and stop either boy from going over.

“NO!” Danos bellowed as he fell, then he hit the ground and there was no time for anything. With Highsmith at his heels, he ran.

“Go back!”

“Just keep running,” said Highsmith steadily.

Darkness overtook as they ventured into the tunnel. This didn’t slow them, as their eyes were used to the darkness of the underground. They sprinted until they reached the fallen woman. She tugged at her daughter. She stared up at them, her face distorted with fear, purple makeup running down her lips and cheeks. Her face was almost completely covered with piercings. She wore cheap jewelry only Scampers would trade for. Then she widely opened her mouth. “AAAAAAAAAAGH!” A painful scream of horror.

Danos pointed to the front end of the wagon. “Lift this side,” took three great steps, vaulted over upturned luggage then skirted toward the back of the wagon. Highsmith gripped his side. “YOU PUSH!” Together they lifted the clanky wagon. Underneath was a girl of about seven years old. She was twisted in a way a body shouldn’t be, her eyes fixed on the roof of the tunnel.

“She’s—” started Highsmith, breathlessly.

“—WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” the woman wailed. She crawled passed Highsmith’s legs and fell on top of the girl, desperately grabbing at her shirt, kissing the girls’ cheeks as she did so. “Mi baybay,” she moaned. “Mi baybay, mi baybay.” Highsmith knelt to the ground, hands resting on the steel tracks. He felt a gentle vibration, then felt it intensify as it travelled up his arms.

“It’s coming, we have to go.”

“C’mon lady, we gotta move!” they both grabbed the back of the woman’s jacket and pulled. The woman was yanked backward, but she gained her footing and let her arms fall out of the jacket. “NOOOOOOOO! MI BAYBAY!” The boys flew backwards on their asses. This time Highsmith’s back found the track and he groaned.

“What the fuck, lady, we gotta go right now!”

“Fuck her. Let’s go.” But Danos was already upon the frantic woman.

“NOOOOO,” she shrieked and was back on top of the girl, unbuttoning her blouse, then she ripped the shirt open. Around her neck was a necklace, but Danos couldn’t quite see as the woman was blocking his view. He heard a snap as she yanked the chain free. She turned abruptly toward him.

“You take, you take.” She said, first with authority, then again pleading, arm outstretched, a silver strand dangling from her closed fist. “You take.” bottom lip quivering.

Danos let the woman drop the jewelry into his palm. It was heavier than he expected and knew then it must be authentic silver. There was a pendant attached but he had no time to investigate.

Highsmith said something in the distance but he couldn’t hear him, as the horn-blare echoed through the tunnel. It rang in his head and he smacked his hands to his ears. It didn’t help. The woman was kissing the girl all over her face, lost in grief. She wouldn’t be coming back, after all.

Not only could Danos see the tracks vibrating now but could feel the brick walls of the tunnel shaking. He turned back to see where Highsmith was. He was heading back towards the rest of the calling gang but he was limping, hand pressed on his hip. He saw Pony hanging over the edge at the mouth of the tunnel shouting: “—NO TIME!”

Danos sprinted, arms and legs firing like pistons, boots kicking up asphalt. He sprinted till he caught up to Highsmith and gave him a hard slap on the ass. He stayed jogging beside him and was about to slap his ass again when Highsmith panted: “You don’t stop for me. You. RUN!” And Highsmith punched Danos in the side. Hard.

“What the—”

“—you don’t stop for me. I stop for you.” Those pleading eyes again just like the woman. “Go.”

Propelling himself forward, Danos flew through the tunnel, not looking back. Now the humming was so loud it drained all thought. All his hair stood on end as he felt the vibration travel up his legs till it touched his balls. It didn’t feel like he was running anymore, merely pumping his arms. He saw Pony’s mouth moving but all sound had ceased. His lips read: Behind you! And with a final effort, reached his hand up to Pony, gripping his forearm. The humming instantly stopped once he’d escaped the tunnel.

The gang hauled Danos onto the dirty subway flooring. He gasped for air that felt like fire and yelled: “Highsmith!”

They didn’t just see red paint but felt it. The bullet-tram came in an instant, as it always had. One second an empty tunnel and the next it was filled with an eighty-foot, silver tram. Red mist, no more than particles, blanketed all of them. Danos inhaled the blood-vapours like it was dust. Mimey sat in disbelief, fingers were still strumming.

Still clutching the necklace, Danos uncurled his hand. The pendant was heart shaped. A little girls’ locket, it looked like, but far too valuable. There was a tiny mechanism on its side and he pushed it. The heart opened, and inside was a USB microchip the size of a fingernail. He frowned. He knew these chips were important now and were important then. But why was it important to her?

Po caught him staring down at his hand. “What’s that?” He felt the sudden need to toss it away. Under the tram and it would be gone forever. But he handed the chip over. He hung the locket around his neck while Po pulled out her computer. She inserted the chip. “Ho-ly fuck.”

“What is it?” asked Pony. He wiped Highsmith’s blood from his eyes and looked over Po’s shoulder. “Is… is that? That’s…”

“A fucking ship, you’re damn right.”

“A ship?”

“I’m gonna’ to see if I can re-direct it.”

Danos could hear her excitement but couldn’t grasp it. “Re-direct? We need to get on the train, we’ll lose connection.”

“Fuck the train, I just found us a ship!”

“But… the money. Maxis gave us the money and he’ll expect us tonight.” And he thought of Highsmith. You don’t stop for me. I stop for you, and felt shame—shame he’d never shake.

Po and Pony looked at each other, then back at Danos like he’d gone mad. Pony put a hand on Danos’ shoulder and smiled. “I, for one, don’t want to live underground anymore. Do you, Po?”

“Hell no. I’d prefer not to live in a fucking subway if I got this motherfucker. I’m getting it to land at tunnel six. We’ll have to walk from here but we can split-off at the half-way point and take that exit. No one will see us. No one will know.”

“But we have payment. Maxis will—” His ear rung and his face shot sideways. Spit flew from his mouth. He’d be feeling Pony’s hand for several hours and he’d have the red-hot mark to prove it.

“Highsmith is dead. We can leave earth,” Pony continued. He spat in his hand and held it out to Danos. “Ready to see the sky, or what?”