PART TWO: TO HELL AND BACK
Chapter Two: The Lost City
The lights of the city seemed a long way away here.
I stood at the top of a gravely embankment, which slid away from the steel road boundary to the warehouse complex below. I was fighting to keep the old memories from rising up after my last visit to the docks like corpses from their graves – terrifying stirrings, the screams of men, the grinding of machines. As I scrambled down the embankment, my hands were shaking.
The docklands below looked, beneath the velvet sky, like a lost city. Run down brick warehouses sat in dusty yards, full of rusted metal machines like the bones of giants. Windows were boarded up, and those that weren't were smashed. The walls were covered in graffiti and laced with vines. This was a forgotten place. A city of the dead.
But there was life here. Somewhere out in this crumbling complex, I could hear men's voices, the sounds of rolling machinery. Doors opening, closing. And over it all, like distant white noise, the murky splash of the Hudson rolling over the rocks beyond. An alarm bell rang out briefly. Someone cried out.
Crouching low in the shadow of a rusty dumpster, I reached into an inner pocket for the raggedy sheet of paper. My hands were slicked with cold sweat, so much so they began to rub the ink off. I was close. This was the place. Something froze in my throat. I crept around the corner and surveyed the area.
This was the place all right.
A warehouse as grim and old as the others sat near the water's edge, but there was plenty of hustle around it. A fleet of inconspicuous black trucks were parked outside. Men in black uniforms and white coats wandered around them, not appearing to do very much. Lights glowed from the interior of the building. White smoke billowed from its stainless steel chimneys. Flashlights shone out into the night sky. A few of the men were armed. Above the main double doors there sat a logo that seemed vaguely familiar – a snake, entwined around a syringe.
No entry through that way. I slunk around the back of my warehouse, keeping close to the lichen-blackened wall. A brief scan of the building's west wall revealed what I'd hope I'd find – a shiny ladder, strapped to one side of the warehouse. One man on duty beneath it, yawning, occasionally lighting up a smoke.
No other way to do this but quietly. I was still a little weak and shaken after my encounter with Novak, and after the theatre I was in no shape to be fighting an army. I slipped my hand into an inner pocket and pulled out an old switchblade with a shiny ebony handle. Holding its coolness in my hand brought on a shot of grief so sudden it felt like I'd flicked it open in my heart. It had been a gift from Michelle, god alone knows how many years ago now. A few weeks before me, Alex and some other guys had gone on a hunting trip upstate. Had I even been grateful? Had I even taken a minute to really thank her? Or was I too busy counting the cans and making sure we had enough smokes for the trip? Sometimes the past was so laden with regrets you'd think a man could drown in them.
I wondered, not for the first time, if Michelle had ever, in her darkest imaginings, foreseen that neat little switchblade she'd bought in some unassuming Fifth Avenue department store, would ever have such a dark purpose. I doubted it. All those years ago this would have been the stuff of nightmares.
I flicked the switch and six inches of sheer blue blade shot out with barely a sound. Intended to be used for skinning deer, I guessed. Didn't know how well it would hold up on a man. Guess there was only one way to find out.
Creeping across the weed-strewn grounds, slunk low like a vampire, blade close to hand, I made my way towards the warehouse, and to the guard on duty. He didn't look like a professional. Plain black uniform, some small security firm's badge on the sweater. The only thing that stood out was the gun strapped to his belt. Joe Average with a mortgage, two cars and a couple of kids. I hated myself for what I had to do. This was no way to kill a man.
The blade high in the air, I slipped behind him as he raised his final cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag. For a second a distant white flashlight lit everything up brilliantly. My heart pounded. His head turned. I leapt up and plunged the blade into his throat.
He let out a grunt and an impossibly large mass of blood spat out of his neck in a huge red waterfall, splattering on the floor with a sound like rain on a tin roof. He fell to his knees, his body jittering, hands scratching at his neck. Finally he slumped forward into the vast, spreading black puddle on the floor. I removed the slippery blade, allowing an arterial flow of blood to spill of the wound, and pocketed it. I wondered if there were cameras watching, or how much time I'd have before another would wander past here. Then I grabbed the ladder and began to climb, taken by fear.
The climb seemed to take forever. Above me the shadows of the rusty roof seemed a million miles away, and yet the floor seemed to be stretching further, as if I was slipping into some weird limbo. I was almost at the top, the gravely floor far below, when I heard the footsteps. For one horrible second I froze, and my grip on the steel ladder tightened.
"Oh my god," a voice cried out from below. "Oh Jesus…"
I didn't dare peer down. Instead I hopped over the edge of the ladder and landed hard on the tin roof. Then, my stomach quivering, I risked a look down.
A security guard stood over the corpse of his late friend, seemingly in shock. Then, as I watched, he composed himself and reached for his walkie-talkie.
"We got a major problem here, Zero," he stuttered. There was a gap, then, "It's Marty. He's dead. Hell of a mess… Ok. I'll call the rest together now. A complete search?... Ok. We'll get all bases covered… Over and out."
There was a skylight near me, on the roof. I had to move fast. Codenames? Maybe these guys weren't quite as amateur as I'd first assumed, and by the sound of it they were patrolling the area for me.
I tossed the blade, reached for my gun, and headed for the skylight.
To be continued…