Chapter 10: "Pitch Black"
The raid went as normal with two small hitches. The first small hitch was that one young woman started to grab for Chromebooks and I stopped her. "The electrical adapters are all for 220-240 volts. Leave them! Get something nonelectrical." She filled her gym bag with plastic bottles of cooking oil. The second hitch was another young woman who wanted to swipe dresses and was unaware that British dress sizes were not the same as U.S. sizes. I warned her and she started grabbing two or three of every size available. I thought that was the smart way to go about it. Grab everything and sort it out later.
The prizes of the raid were some folding card tables and portable folding aluminum lawn chairs. It was 3:30 A.M. after we finished the raid. The two guards met me and asked me to take a walk with them to help with a problem that they were reluctant to handle. Dead bodies in a completely abandoned line. They carried their rifles with them. Propped against their shoulders pointed almost straight up. I was sure that they were military veterans.
"That's the third rail," announced the taller guard pointing downward off the platform. "Stay as far as you can from it." He walked down a graduated series of concrete blocks piled up to the left of the platform which served as a sort of ladder for the feral cats. The concrete blocks were about 18 inches wide which was wide enough except for one problem: the blocks were shoved up against the wall of the tunnel. My left hip would be in the way. The taller guard looked back at me and asked why I didn't follow.
"These!" I said, pointing to my hips. He broke out laughing.
"Too shapely for the stairs! Want me to get the ladder, Princess?"
"No, I'll hop down. It's only a few feet."
I sat down on the edge of the concrete which the residents kept swept and mopped and let myself down delicately. We headed left toward the spur line that was completely abandoned. After about two minutes of walking, I spotted to my left a graffiti that had my own face. There was a quote with my portrait.
"Money is a sick, psychotic scorekeeping system invented by a tiny handful of super-rich people to control the whole of humanity. They control the price of everything and the wages everyone earns. It is an economic dictatorship. It is the continuation of slavery without the ankle chain and whip. The new lash becomes the threat of hunger and homelessness. Anyone who challenges the system is imprisoned or cast out into the streets to serve as an example to the rest. Under capitalism, governments, legal systems, jails, prisons, police, security guards, and the military all serve to protect the power of the billionaire class. They work to ensure the continuation of the system of mass servitude. Make no mistake: if you work for money, you are a slave." -Alice of Wonderland
"It's quite a quote," said the shorter guard. "Most people in the world above us would dismiss it out of hand. They would say that you're the crazy one. Those of us down here in the tunnels know otherwise. The people of the world above are sleepwalkers. It's a real-life Matrix up there. The idea that money is an illusion, a pure abstraction, requires too much effort on their part. They don't want to consider the idea that our society is stark raving mad. Look at who our president is! The movie 'Idiocracy' was supposed to be a satire, not prophesy!"
"You won't get any argument from me about that movie. I saw it a long time ago and I've been thinking about it a lot." We trudged past a platform that was in use. It was brightly lit, clean, and had no graffiti up on the platform itself. To the left and right of the platform, however, the frequent graffiti images continued. A few of the graffiti images appeared to be painted with a brush. One such painted image showed a giant rat with a crown and scepter and the quote "We rule the night!"
"Some of these graffiti artists have real talent!" I commented as I stared at King Rat.
"And yet the only thing some of them get for their work is a prison sentence."
The taller guard pointed ahead and noted what appeared to be simply a dark spot in the wall. It was on our right across the tracks. We had to step over the third rail on both sides. Ugh! My dresses only came down to just above the knee, but I held my dress up anyway as I stepped over both times. "That's the entrance into the abandoned line. Since there are absolutely no lights in there, you might make the assumption that the third rail is not electrified. Stay well away from it anyway, just in case." We approached closer and I was unable to see anything beyond the opening area. Pitch black.
"We're going in there?" I asked. I was genuinely unnerved.
"We both have three flashlights," said the taller guard. "The one in the right pocket that we use. The one in the left pocket that is a backup. Both of us have a penlight in the shirt pocket. You don't ever want to get caught down here without a light. You never know when the electricity might go out. There's also a reason besides total darkness that you don't ever want to get caught without a light. You'll find out soon enough."
We entered the abandoned spur line. A few steps in and the darkness enveloped us. I still heard ventilation fans humming, however. Only the feeble light from the flashlights enabled us to see where we were stepping. We kept to the right to avoid the third rail. I heard ominous rustling sounds everywhere around us. Ancient trash was everywhere.
"That sound you hear is the rats retreating from our lights," said the shorter guard. "They're just beyond the lit part of the ground. They're everywhere. They won't go voluntarily into the light. I could suddenly raise my light to let you see them if you'd like."
"I'll pass on that. As long as they retreat from the light, I'm happy."
"The abandoned platforms are all on the right," said the shorter guard. "The first one is a few minutes up ahead."
The rustling sounds just beyond the reach of the flashlights continued. I noticed that there were no feral cats in this tunnel. A trickle of water appeared on the tracks.
"There's a broken water pipe up ahead," said the taller guard. "I have no idea how long it's been spewing. Could be decades."
"What were people doing in this tunnel?"
The two guards looked at each other. The shorter guard decided to answer.
"The transit police cleared the tunnel dwellers out in the 1990s. Not everyone left. A few people retreated deeper into the tunnels into places where the transit police were afraid to go. Such as this tunnel. The people who went into this tunnel never came out. The folklore is that they all died of murine typhus."
"How did they get typhus?"
"Rat fleas. Murine typhus is supposed to be highly treatable, but this happened before the Medicaid expansion. The people in this tunnel tried to sweat it out, and eventually all of them died. The bodies are still here. Don't touch them."
"No warning was needed," I said. "When did people start filtering back into the subway tunnels?"
"A few years ago. The homeless shelters are all full. No housing available. No place to put us except the streets if the transit police evict us. The Democratic mayor has ordered an end to homeless evictions for the time being. Not sure if that applies to abandoned private property."
We trudged ahead kicking aside the trash in front of us as we walked. The rustling sounds of the rats became louder. The taller guard turned his head.
"The first platform is just up ahead. We'll have to pull ourselves up onto the platform. How's your stomach doing?"
"Queasy, but still okay. Let's go."
We reached the platform, and the two guards pulled themselves up. The place was strewn with trash everywhere. No needles from druggies shooting up, though. Praises be. The two guards kicked away all the trash and I pulled myself up onto the filthy platform. I raised my hands in front of my face and stared at the dirt.
"Awww! Princess get dirty?" teased the taller guard.
"I'll take a shower when I get back to Wonderland and have my clothes washed."
I was struck by how little graffiti was on the platform. I kicked trash out of the way as I walked. The two guards led me directly to the bodies. Seven skeletons with every last ounce of flesh gone. Nothing but pure dirty white bone. The taller guard turned toward me.
"It is now 4:15 A.M. The trains start running in one hour and fifteen minutes. We can't go any further into the tunnel if we want to get back to the Worth Street platform. There's not enough room to flatten against the tunnel walls if a train is passing. What do you want to do with the bodies, Princess?"
"Do you have any paper and markers with you?"
"Nope, but there's some paper and markers back on the Worth Street platform."
"I'll be back." I disappeared through a mind portal. Five minutes later I returned with seven sheets of heavy white paper with "Died from Murine Typhus in Tunnels before Medicaid Expansion -Alice" marked on each in medium black marker ink. I placed one sheet on each of the seven skeletons and then dropped each through a mind portal.
"What did you do with the bodies?" asked the taller guard when I was finished.
"I gave them to the governor in his mansion."
End of Chapter 10
This story is based on the characters created by American McGee. EA (Electronic Arts) owns the copyrights.