Chapter 37: Murphy's Law

Thursday, September 17 Year 2

Ike

After rehydrating, the travel party left the craft store behind along with any sense of calm they'd collected there. The day had been typical for autumn, overcast with a nip in the air, but where wind had chased them all day now it lay dormant allowing for the subtlest sounds to carry. The six of them played follow the leader over rubble and behind parked cars. They avoided fallen leaves, glass, and gravel—anything that would alert others of their presence.

Stan and Damien took turns leading, the latter often falling back to help Bebe in whatever way he could. Kenny, and thus Ike, also hung back with the waddling woman to offer support. Because moving targets are harder to hit they didn't dare take breaks. To Bebe's credit, she didn't complain.

Ike had always been impressed by Kenny's stamina, who chalked it up to years on the run, but days of picking through the city were finally taking its toll. He'd noticed the blonde slowing but it only became a concern when Bebe passed them.

Before he could offer some kind of assistance Kenny stopped altogether.

"Fuck!" the man grumbled as he lifted his right foot. The rubber sole of his skate shoe flopped freely exposing the black sock from within.

"Can you walk like that?"

"I'll have to." Kenny took several cautionary steps, his gait making a slight 'flop' sound as he went.

The afternoon dragged on. The sun was a goopy yolk sitting on the horizon by the time the group passed the last major city building. From what Ike could recall of the city's layout, it was now just a mile of low level urban sprawl separating them from the forest.

Bebe was huffing and puffing, one hand to her heart and the other to her tummy. They hadn't been running but the constant moving was obviously wearing her out. "Are we home free?"

As if on cue, a heart beat after she asked there was the distant hum of a vehicle approaching. All six of their heads swiveled to get a look, but whoever was approaching was still a speck in the distance.

"We need to hide," Stan hissed through his teeth, his breath wasted on the obvious. But it was a practice in futility. There weren't many places to effectively do that. All around them structures had been bombed flat. A few cars were left unscarhed on the side of the street but they wouldn't offer much protection or cover for so many people. Just rubble and a sketchy looking apartment complex. Ike would have sworn it was ready for demolition but for the sign out front announcing rooms for rent.

Damien and Stan both rushed for the nearest door of the building, everyone a step behind them. The door was locked. As was the neighbor's. Running out of time, Stan kicked at the flimsy looking metal door. No give.

"On two," Damien said as he sidled up to the cop. They counted and kicked, the wooden frame splintering under the force.

"Again," Stan urged.

One more blow and the door fell open. There wasn't time to consider the possible dangers of what could be inside as everyone spilled into the entryway. A doorway to the left, a living-room to the right, and stairs leading up. Everyone scattered as their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Ike made to follow Kenny and Bebe, but an iron grip on his elbow prevented him from getting far. He only registered it was Kyle seconds before he was yanked up the stairs. His brother's voice was low and pinched, "If they spotted us outside they'll know where we're hiding. It's safer if we don't all hide together."

Upstairs smelled like the inside of a dumpster and looked like one. Bulging black garbage bags lined the walls of the hallway. The space was surprisingly well lit, the culprits being nightlights plugged into the wall. Ike noted the working electricity as Kyle kept them moving. He glanced into each room until they discovered a bathroom.

The grip on Ike's elbow was released, the pressure instead moving to his back. "Get in."

There was no reason to argue. A bathroom was a decent hiding spot since the door was lockable. Though given the condition of the building and the front door, it wouldn't be hard to breakdown. Ike only felt the need to protest when Kyle, still in the hallway, grabbed the handle and began pulling the door shut.

Ike was baffled. "Hide with me."

With his free hand Kyle tapped his hip. Ike didn't need to see to know that's where his gun was holstered.

"You're going to fight them?"

"If it comes to that. I can't lose you." The desperation in his voice, and the fact that an argument would waste precious time, had Ike swallowing his words. If he had a weapon he'd probably be thinking the same thing. Kyle closed the door with a definite click. His voice carried through the wood, "Don't come out until it's safe. I love you."

Cast into complete darkness, Ike resisted the impulse to flip the light switch. The bottom of the door was an inch off the ground, enough to allow light to spill out and give his position away if anyone saw it. A locked door is also a dead giveaway.

He still hadn't locked it.

Twice Ike reached for the tiny push button on the knob only to drop the motion. He couldn't, and so he didn't. With nothing else to focus on the silence became stifling. He pressed his ear against the wood hoping to catch activity. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

He spent his time thinking of all the ways they could have done things differently. How he regretted letting Kyle drag him along and how he wished he was hiding with Kenny. At least then I wouldn't feel so anxious.

He kept his ear to the grain and his breathing shallow. He was expecting to hear stomping, a door slam or angry voices. Instead a single shot pierced the silence.

Ike had to wonder if it was Kyle or Stan who took the shot. Maybe it's all over. He waited patiently for Kyle to retrieve him. Maybe, if he was lucky, it would be Kenny.

His daydream was cut short as the air exploded with what sounded like firecrackers. Ike knew the sound of gunfire when he heard it. He was no expert, but there were clearly two different guns being fired.

The eruption of noise ended just as quick as it came.

The silence was so pregnant that it claimed physical space in the bathroom. Ike didn't want to rush out and make the situation worse, or get shot by his own brother like some sort of Greek tragedy. But the silence dragged on and with it his frayed nerves.

It felt like one of those video game quick time events where Ike could either smash X and do something or he could wait to see what would happen. If anything would happen. He didn't give it a second thought.

Ike opened the door slowly, thankful it didn't have creaky hinges, and peered into the hallway. He didn't see anyone. There was a loud clatter and someone yelling. Deciding swift action would be more important than stealth, Ike darted past the garbage and down the stairs two at a time.

The rooms below were also dimly lit thanks to the bare windows and the setting sun. He could hear a struggle taking place and followed it to a room crowded with furniture. Without trouble he spotted a bulky figure hovering over the coffee table. He was wrestling with someone, a rifle looking gun between them. Knowing that whoever that was it wasn't a friend, Ike grabbed the closest object he could use as a weapon: a standing lamp with a thick decorative top and a pale yellow shade with fringe.

He yanked the lamp's plug free from the wall with little resistance. His movement failed to draw attention. Committing himself to the action, Ike lifted the lamp back as if it were a bat and swung with all his might at the bulky man's head.

It felt like hitting a wall with little give.

The glass of the light bulb shattered in a crunch and the man pitched to the left and slumped to the floor. Ike was vaguely aware of more gunfire from somewhere within the house. All he could focus on though was the fact that his wrists hurt from the impact.

A scream—Bebe's—broke him out of his stupor.

Stan stood from the table, taking the rifle with him. He locked gazes with Ike and offered a thumbs-up before turning to the man on the floor. Ike thought for sure he'd shoot him, to make sure he was down for good. Instead, Stan fished in his back pocket and pulled out a standard pair of steel handcuffs. He cuffed the man's hands together behind his back, before mumbling something about "won't bother reading you your rights."

Just as Stan finished Kyle appeared in the living room entrance announcing, "It's over. It's safe." A second before yelling. "Ike?! What the hell? I told you to wait. You could have been shot, you could-"

Ike stopped listening to give the rest of the living room a once over. It had multiple chairs, bookcases filled to the brim and an old TV set. There were dirty dishes scattered on the floor, a spray of bullet holes in the plaster of the walls and Stan who was holstering his own weapon. What the living room lacked was the other three members of their party. He snapped to attention when someone patted his shoulder. It was Stan, his face set in amused sympathy, "They're in the dining room."

Ike brushed passed Kyle and headed across the small foyer to the other side of the apartment. He stepped through pooling blood and spotted a body as soon as he entered the cramped space. The body on the floor was thin, lanky, and clearly not anyone Ike knew.

Damien sat on the ground next to the body, his hand wrapped around his ankle. He looked up at Ike and soundlessly pointed towards the kitchen in the next room.

Where the rest of the house had fallen into a solemn stillness the kitchen was the opposite. Bebe was sprawled on the ground moaning and rocking. Kenny was on his knees beside her. He was holding one of her hands, murmuring encouraging words. Only Kenny looked up to see who'd joined them.

His smile of relief was short lived as Bebe cried out, her hand clutching her stomach. She was obviously in a lot of pain. Ike joined his blonde's side. He wasn't sure what to do. Was she going into labor? Before he could ask Kenny hollered, "Damien! Get your ass in here."

The man appeared in the doorway. "Dammit, can I get a break? I've been shot."

"Well this is more important," Kenny waved off the request. "I'm no doctor, which is why you're needed. Bebe's water broke."

Damien stumbled and caught himself on the closest counter. "Shit. Wish they'd aimed higher."

"Don't joke about that." Kenny snapped at him, "Now get your ass over here and tell us what we should do."

Bebe sat up from the floor against Kenny and Damien's protests. Her face was contorted with pain as she patted Kenny's hand, "Relax dear, you're stressing me out." She held up her arms expectantly and Damien was there in an instant helping her to her feet. She forced a smile and said, "I'm fine. We can keep going."

"But-" Damien looked like he might faint.

"I'm. Fine." She waddled over to the doorway, glancing back at Damien. "Will you be okay?"

"Uh, it was more of a graze."

Bebe rifled through the pack still attached to Damien's back and pulled out a pair of grey sweat pants. The crotch of her jeans were soaked through and would have miserable to walk in. They all gave her a moment to chance, casting their eyes elsewhere, and as soon as she was ready she was back to giving orders. "All good. Let's go."

"Don't you think it would be better to lie down?" Damien tried to reason with her as Ike and Kenny trailed after them. In the foyer Stan and Kyle were huddled together, their voices soft and impossible to discern.

Bebe swivel on her heels and grabbed Damien by his collar. She pull the black fabric, forcing the man to bend down to her eye level. "There is no way in hell I'm having our baby in this dump. We are getting out of here so I can do this shit properly. Now get moving."

Stan lead the group outside where dusk had settled over the landscape. The air was refreshing compared now that they were away from the trash. Ike found himself taking deep breaths before turning to his companion. Kenny was right by his side, where he should be, but he was awfully quiet.

"Are you okay?"

His answer was a hair ruffle and Kenny's grinning face as he pulled his hand back.

Before he could interpret that action Stan had turned around to address him, "I forgot to say this before, but thanks for the assist Ike. You really saved me."

"That was dangerous and stupid and you could have been shot-" Kyle was shaking his head.

Parked a short distance from the house was a red jeep that hadn't previously been there. Ike wouldn't have given it much more thought than that, a simple acknowledgement, but Stan was leading everyone right for it.

"Wait, did you take their keys?"

A metallic jungle was his answer.

"Sweet." Ike looked down at Kenny's ruined shoe. The rubber was still hanging on though it couldn't have been comfortable to walk in. "Guess we're leaving this place in style."

No sooner had the words left Ike's lips the very ground they stood on fell away in an earth shattering rumble.

Kenny

Ow.

Fucking hell.

Kenny opened his eyes to darkness. After a moment he could discern the darkening sky above, much further up than it should have been. All around him were the echoes of coughing and rocks settling. He forced himself to sit up and as he moved the rubble below shifted with him. Despite having fallen, Kenny wasn't in much pain. His ass hurt, as did his neck, but he didn't feel anything that screamed "needs medical attention." His hands roamed down his torso and over his thighs. All of him checked out.

It was pitch black wherever they'd landed. Kenny could hear his friends but he couldn't even see himself let alone the others. He took a deep breath to calm himself but there was so much dust in the air soon his body was expelling the foreign substance anyway it could. He sneezed twice before joining the others in coughing.

A warm hand pressed into the exposed flesh of Kenny's lower back as he tried to gain control of his breathing. Logic told him it had to be Ike, since he'd been the closest before they fell, but he still wanted to verify. He reached out toward where he thought the person was sitting. His fingers brushed jeans first, the frayed knee matching up with Ike's outfit.

"Are you hurt?" There was no mistaking the tenderness in those three words, nor the fact that they'd come from Ike.

The hand on Kenny's back moved onto his coat and up along his spine, applying light pressure as it went. It finally settled on Kenny's head where it probed around his unkempt locks. It took longer than it should have for Kenny to realize Ike was searching for injuries.

Kenny shook his head 'no' before mumbling back, "Are you?"

"Nope." The boy popped his 'p' and Kenny could almost imagine the cocky grin. As if the boy was unfailable and immortal. No one was immortal.

The hand withdrew from Kenny's hair and felt its way down to the blonde's right hand. It was squeezed, lightly, before Ike ran his thumb across Kenny's palm. He had to stifle a laugh. It tickled. "Checking for cuts?"

"Nn." Ike's fingers pulled back.

Before they could retreat entirely Kenny caught them, wiggling his digits between Ike's own. Now more than ever he wished he could see the boy's expression.

Most of the coughing had stopped and there was movement as everyone tried to get their bearings. Stan's voice rang out over all others, "Is everyone alright? Anyone injured?"

His response was Bebe swearing.

"Babe?" Damien's voice cut across the black expanse.

"I think I'm alright," she said. Her voice was soft but it carried well. "But I won't be for much longer."

"It's better not to move around just yet," called Kyle from somewhere behind Kenny.

Stan's voice returned, "I'm going to try finding a light of some sort, so everyone stay put."

"Where are you going to get a light from?" It was Kyle.

"Can you hear the way your voice sounds? It sounds like we've fallen into a tunnel of some kind. I don't hear water so maybe it's another subway tunnel. If so there's bound to be a light source somewhere."

"Another subway tunnel?" Kyle groaned. "Can't we get a break? Just one break."

Kenny could hear Stan descend from the pile on rubble as each stone he dislodged went tumbling down in a clatter. Eventually footsteps could be heard on a much smoother surface. It was hard to remember all the way back to August, but Kenny was pretty sure Stan was right about where they were. At least the tunnels sounded the same. Stan's footfalls got further and further until it became eerily quiet besides the occasional groan from Bebe.

There was a light tap on Kenny's shoulder and he turned his head despite the fact that he still couldn't see anything. He imaged Ike was frowning.

In a hushed voice the boy began, "Ken-" His words were cut off by falling debris. Pieces of asphalt from above, weakened from the cave-in, came raining down along the edges.

"Maybe we should move off to the side," called Kyle.

"Which side?" asked Damien.

"I guess whichever one you're closest to. Just move slow."

Kenny and Ike began to shuffled their way down, both using each other as support so they wouldn't fall. When they hit a flat surface they used their ears to locate the others. Huddled together, seeing as everyone made it to the same side, the five of them took a seat. There was no use in exploring the darkness.

"Great, now we wait for Stan."

"This feels familiar." Kenny said as he plopped down next to a familiar presence. He'd stake his life on it being Kyle. A moment late Kyle's laughter confirmed it.

"Yeah. We're back where we started."

While the situation was as equally dangerous, if not more so, Kenny felt less anxious than he had in Stan's basement shelter. Squished between Ike and Kyle, it was hard to have many worries. Without asking he flopped his head onto Ike's shoulder. He was prepared for a rejection, or a stiff awkwardness, but instead Ike leaned closer. It could have been passed off as mere friendliness, since Kenny was physically close to both Damien and Bebe. It could have, but Ike's hand once again found Kenny's in the dark.

It's not my imagination. This needs to be addressed. But not in the tunnel where everyone could hear. Not when Ike's presence was the only comfort to be found in the latest pitfall.

Light blossomed from the end of the tunnel, the rays appearing in a crescent as the source rounded a corner.

"Looks like he succeeded." Damien sounded impressed.

Everyone stood to great Stan, their excitement diminishing as two silhouettes appeared. Their faces were all but shadows behind the light. Along with the lamp each person carried a gun, one resting on a shoulder and the other facing the ground.

"Well shit." One of them spoke, his voice dripped with irritation. "No way to fix that."

The man lowered the lantern, shoving it near Kyle's face who stood the closest. Kenny could finally make out some details of the man's face. He was very ordinary looking with no standout features.

The woman beside him huffed, "Can't have anyone finding us. Let's shoot them and be gone."

"Don't think Wallace will want to see them? Make them see reason?"

"Excuse me," Kyle's hands were raised above his shoulders. "We didn't mean to drop in. We just needed a light so we can be on our way."

"Of course you didn't, but that doesn't matter." The light bearer motioned back the way he'd came. "You have two choices. Get shot or come with us."

"Are you serious?" The woman snapped, for a second her long hair passed into the light before she abruptly turned and started walking away. "If they were meant to join us they'd already be in the know. You're making a mistake."

The man rolled his eyes. "You coming?"

The kerosene lamp cast long shadows on the walls. Kenny spared a quick glance at the others. Kyle was holding his side, clearly in pain, Damien was the only support keeping Bebe on her feet and Ike—he looked ready to pick a fight. Kenny was thankful they were still holding hands.

It was Kyle who spoke for the group. "Yes."

What other choice did they have? They followed after the pair and the only light source. As they walked the details of the tunnel became clearer. There was no rail in the center and the tunnel wasn't tall or wide enough to fit a subway train. Kenny wondered if it was some kind of service tunnel, but he didn't know enough about architecture or whatever to even make an educated guess.

All the possible ways to escape flooded his mind. They could tackle the guy and try to take him out. In the darkness they'd have an advantage because the woman wouldn't be able to aim accurately. But what if there were others close by? And where would they go in the dark if the lamp broke during the struggle? They'd still be stuck here. At least by following these people they might get some answers before they were killed.

Ike

Ike was considering options of escape when the bones in his left hand were crushed in a death grip. He didn't know the blonde had that kind of strength. He tried to squeeze back but his fingers lacked mobility. Instead he brought up their intertwined hands and kissed the pale skin that stood out in the dim lighting.

Kenny's grip loosened but he didn't pull away entirely. Ike gave the appendage another light squeeze before boldly sticking another kiss to it. He didn't want to risk breaking the silence to whisper reassurances he couldn't actually promise, but he couldn't do nothing. This was another shitty situation they'd found themselves in, but at least they were still together. We've survived worse. The gangsters, the rapids and the city thus far. We'll survive this too.

It started as a low hum. Then it reminded Ike of radio static. But as they got closer the noise became clear, it was hundreds of voices yelling.

"Fight the system! Eat the rich! Take back our city! Earn our freedom!"

The tunnel ended with a wide room several stories high. Stairs wrapped around the square edges and led to platforms that led to other tunnels. It almost looked like a sewer system but there was no water to be found. The place, however, smelled of mold and the sour stench of body odor.

The floor of the room was packed with people. It was impossible to make any one individual out except for a man that stood on a stack of wooden pallets in the front. From this distance all Ike could tell was his brown hair was greying, he was buff but could still due to lose a few pounds, and he looked remarkably well dressed compared to everyone else. If these people were sewer rats then he was their king.

He seemed pleased with the chant but raised his hand for silence. Using only his voice to project he bellowed, "We've come so far my brothers and sisters. All of the non-believers are gone, fled the city. The police don't have the manpower to fight us and the military-" He chuckled. "Is a joke. I would know." The audience followed in laughter. "It's our city now!"

The room roared to life, "Our city! Our city!"

"Fuck the Mayor-" the man continued.

"Fuck the Mayor!"

"-fuck the suits-"

"Fuck the suits!"

"And fuck the upstarts who think they're better than us."

"Fuck them dead!"

More shouts of agreement as the man stepped down to make way for someone wearing two winter coats that had both seen better days. In a much quieter voice he began giving what he called a city report. It was then that the man with the lamp motioned for everyone to follow him.

"Oh this does not look good," mumbled Damien as he peered over the edge at the horde of people below.

They were led to the closest set of rickety metal stairs where their decent became a symphony of creaks and clangs. They did not go unnoticed. More and more heads turned to see who was coming. As they got closer Ike could identify more features of the colorful cast. For starters most of them were white, all of them middle age or older. Many of them carried weapons though none of them were raised for a fight. He didn't imagine the bone jewelry a few of them wore.

Guess they're not indiscriminate cannibals after all.

They were led down one of the many winding side tunnels. Lights adorned the walls and Ike was finally able to see their captures. The man was very average looking, someone they could have passed in the street without giving a second glance. The woman's hair was long, about down to her waist. She looked like one of Ike's classmates at the university with muscular arms and a resting bitch face. Of the two she seemed the most dangerous.

Not that we can just run off with so many people around. How are we going to get out of this? Pretend to join them?

They passed rooms filled with boxes and crates. If they were labeled correctly all of them stored firearms. It was strange. The people chanting looking like any yahoo off the street, there's no way they could afford this much firepower. Who's supplying them?

One glance toward Kenny told Ike he was thinking the same thing. His eyes were pitched to one of the many rocket launchers mounted against the back walls. There was a slight trembled through their connection.

"What the hell is going on?" Kenny's voice was low but it still carried.

"This?" The man at the front spread his arms wide and looked around. "Why this is a revolution. Our day has finally come."