Breathless City Page 11

  Paul nodded, keeping his eye contact. It was slight, but Xander noticed a shift in Paul’s stance as he straightened. Paul watched in curiosity as Xander continued on his way.

  Xander unlocked his conference room. Laid across the mahogany table were diagrams and maps he had carefully constructed from memory. Xander ran his fingers down the largest map, which showed the layout of the entire underground city. His finger traced familiar paths he had used, lingering on potential obstacles. After a moment, his fingers drifted away to the southeastern corner of the map and rested on the faint indent of erasure marks under the administrators’ lounge.

  He didn’t look up when he heard a knock.

  “Bring him in,” Xander said, just loud enough to be heard.

  The door swung open, and there was the heavy thud of boots as the visitor stepped into the room. Xander listened as the footfalls came nearer, stopping right beside him.

  “Tell me more about your machines,” Xander said, keeping his eyes on the map. Depending on what materials they needed, Xander would have to arrange a raid on the city. It wouldn’t be an ordinary raid, either. Normally, a small team could go in every few weeks and take or trade what they needed. A basic supply of pills and food was easy enough to arrange. Underground citizens practically giftwrapped it for them to avoid gang retaliation. With a handful of people and the right strategy, his gang was in and out. In this case, some of the more delicate tools and equipment were in the southwest corridors, located deeper into the city. Getting at those supplies required a more sophisticated strategy. Time to send the underground a reminder of what they were capable of.

  “This is the underground city.” The scientist, Gavin, peered over the map. “Here, this symbol represents the shipment station.” The scientist pointed to the north. He was correct. Not that it mattered.

  Xander said nothing, waiting for the answer to his question.

  “The shipment station will have a control panel. I could just type in my security codes and the submarine should deliver anything I need from the factory,” he told Xander.

  The scientist really wasn’t from around here.

  “How much did Stella tell you about the underground?” Xander asked.

  “Not much, just that it’s dangerous.”

  Xander quashed his annoyance and the nagging thought that he was wasting time. After all, he was dealing with a scientist. Science dealt with facts in order to function. Xander wasn’t going to make progress in this meeting without explaining how things work. “When the infection first hit, everyone was trying to escape in different ways. Some were better at it than others. Around New York City lived some powerful men. Some were politicians, heads of businesses, and some of them were just rich. Those men escaped the infection by working together on underground construction. When those men built, they made sure to design something into the infrastructure that has kept them in power to this day.”

  “What was it?” the scientist asked.

  “Keys,” Xander said. “The city is divided into each section of the compass rose, and it is controlled by seven administrators with seven sets of keys. Originally, they explained to everyone that they needed the keys as a fail-safe. If any of the infected got into the underground, there had to be a way to stop the spread. Obviously, that isn’t really how they use them.”

  “How could a couple of keys control a population of over eighty thousand people?”

  “Think of all the things the administrators could keep locked away. Food, water, oxygen pills… people. The citizens keep the administrators happy because if they don’t, with one turn of a key, they will starve and count down the minutes until their oxygen pills run out.”

  “We do population counts. We send out more than enough.” The scientist leaned closer and gritted his teeth, as if determination alone could change things. His naivety was ridiculous.

  The scientist was useful; even Xander had to admit that. Beyond that, Xander had no idea what Stella saw in him.

  “It isn’t about quantity, it’s about control. The people who live underground don’t have anywhere else to go. They know that it’s infested outside. They live their whole lives listening to administrators explain that they built the city. If those people want to live, it’s by their rules. When people are given hard choices, one of them almost guaranteed to be a brutal death, you would be surprised by what they agree to do.”

  “Like what?” the scientist asked in a grim tone, as if he didn’t really want to know. “What really happens down there?”

  “One of the first things you’ll see when you enter the underground city is a hallway of dialysis patients. Dialysis is mandatory for people that start to turn. Most of the citizens think the procedure is meant to heal them. But those machines don’t stop the transformation, they only weaken it. They don’t know there is a hallway connecting patients to a prison monitored by the advance guards. You see, those men like to be able to practice their skills.”

  “They turn people on purpose.” The scientist shook his head with a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe it. But Xander wasn’t quite done.

  “The worst is at the far end of the city, in the east section. The administrator in charge there is a real piece of work. That bastard goes around the city, buying up the contracts of the prettiest women he can find. He likes to call it the ‘entertainment’ work, and once he’s got them, those women can’t get out, whether they want to or not. They know all about the prisons—if they don’t go along with everything his soldiers desire, that is exactly where they’ll end up.” Xander watched the color drain out of Gavin’s face as his bitter words sank in.

  Getting back to business, Xander tapped on the diagram, drawing in the scientist’s attention. “You would enter from the west. Your first locked door would be by the nurse’s corridor. The second lock would be at the supply room. From there, you have three more locked hallways. Even if you found your way around, the doors are under constant surveillance and the guards would kill you on sight. You aren’t going to get to the shipment station.”

  The scientist frowned, and a crease furrowed between his eyebrows as he processed the information. “There should be eight.”

  “What?”

  “You said there was one administrator for every point on the compass. There should be eight. What happened to the missing one?”

  He was sharper than Xander had initially given him credit for. And bolder, too.

  “You’re right. There used to be eight.” Xander said dismissively. “The administrators will turn on anyone, even colleagues.”

  It hadn’t been a major event, just petty vengeance as the administrators jostled for power. He had gotten home, his fingers on the doorknob, when he heard it. Not curses or screams, only that half-hearted plea. “No. Don’t.” In the crack under the door, he could make out the crumpled bodies of his parents, more dead than alive, and that awful redness that coated everything. Then he ran.

  “Why would they do that?” the scientist asked.

  “Differences in opinion.” It took Xander years to piece together the story of what happened that day. He knew who ordered the attack and why, but there were things he never managed to figure out. He didn’t even know what had happened to his sister, Vivienne. Cautious questions and whispers in the right direction never led anywhere.

  But now wasn’t the time to think about that four-year-old mop of curls that used to follow him around everywhere.

  “So I’ll ask again. What do you need to build the machine?” Xander said, redirecting the conversation.

  “I’ll need a large, enclosed space,” the scientist said. “It has to have windows.”

  Xander nodded, signaling the scientist to continue. He already had a room in mind that should do.

  “I’m going to need metals—copper, iron, and steel.”

  “Metal isn’t going to be a problem. Plenty of that lying around out here. Anything else?”

  “Some basic tools, like a hammer, screwdriver, b
lowtorch, wires… That kind of thing,” Gavin said.

  “That should be simple enough. Should be able to find it in storage in the southwest zone, right by the entrance. We’ll have you started on this machine by the afternoon.” Xander nodded.

  “Right. Then all we’ll need is some soil and some seeds to plant, and then we’ll be all set.”

  “Seeds?”

  “Seeds,” the scientist repeated.

  “You’re kidding.” A smirk formed on Xander’s face. “Just when I thought you didn’t know anything, you start joking around with me.”

  “Can’t get oxygen without plants. Nothing will work without them,” the scientist replied, bemused.

  Xander picked up a Sharpie and carefully circled the map three times: once for basic supplies, next for tools, and last for the seeds. That last circle was in the southeast, in the administrators’ lounge, almost as far away from the entrance as it was possible to be.

  “The best of the food goes straight to the administrators and their guards. That includes all of the fruits and most of the vegetables. Some of the gang have only eaten fruit a handful of times. Stella’s never even had it once.”

  “I can’t believe that,” the scientist said, looking more crestfallen than he had when he learned about some of the city’s worst atrocities. “All that time harvesting, I just assumed that it was actually feeding everyone.”

  “Getting the seeds isn’t going to be easy. We’ll need to distract them. We’ll go in more numbers than they can handle and to different zones. Should be enough to let a few people slip by unnoticed to get fruit.” Xander carefully marked out three routes.

  “Are you planning on taking her?”

  Xander stiffened. “That’s none of your concern.”

  “You said it yourself that this raid is going to be dangerous.” The scientist eyed the map, tracing that long winding path to the seeds.

  “Stella is a member of this group. She does her part to keep it going.” Xander’s hands tightened on the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white.

  “It’s riskier for her,” the scientist interjected, not knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

  “What, you think she’s some helpless girl after she saved your ass in New York?” Xander just stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

  “I know she’s not a helpless girl. She’s not weak, but—”

  “But what? Please tell me what you have learned in the last two days that makes you an expert on what’s best for her.” Xander kept his grip locked on his desk, because if he let go, he was going to punch that concerned expression right off the scientist’s face. He couldn’t do that if he wanted this project to run smoothly.

  “But she could be targeted. If the administrators went after her father, it’s just a matter of time until they go after her for the exact same reason.”

  “You act like she doesn’t already know that.” Xander’s heart was beating so fast that he heard the heavy pounding in his ears. Every muscle in his body was wired. More than anything, the fact that the scientist was needed ate away at him as he forced himself not to act. “You might think you know her, but you don’t.”

  Xander stared the scientist down, daring him to say anything. After a moment, he called out to Ben. “Take him to the pool room. Make sure he gets whatever he needs.”

  Ben entered and stood at the scientist’s side to escort him away.

  Gavin flashed him a cold, clinical look. As if that look could open Xander up like a machine and see exactly what was inside.

  Xander gritted his teeth, looking over his plans as Gavin left.

  He would like nothing better than to get out of his chair and slam it against the smooth mahogany—a relic that survived the end of civilization, but could splinter apart under his hands. Xander traced through the map routes instead.

  He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  For those two days without her, Xander hadn’t been able to think. He had been sick with worry. Unbidden thoughts came to his mind of Stella running from the infected, Stella surrounded, Stella motionless and cold, never to come back to him. The thought that there was a threat to her, so close, was intolerable. It was time for him to do something about it.

  Xander arranged his plans in a precise order. He gave them a quick look over and, satisfied that they were complete, set them down. He rose from his desk and stretched.

  It was a quick walk down a few flights of stairs. He was down in the basement, where the air was cool and moisture clung to the skin. There was no sound here, save for the droning of water pipes.

  At the far end, there was a guard posted who hadn’t noticed his entrance. The guard was clenching his rifle, completely tuned in to the sounds coming through the containment room.

  “Get Ben,” Xander ordered. Once dismissed, the guard sprung back, as if the door itself was capable of rearing up and attacking.

  One brief image of Stella flitted through his mind, of that first time he had seen her bit and all the quiet horror etched on to her sweet features.

  He let himself in.

  “Who’s there?” Dan called out, startled. He shifted his head from the left to the right, trying to see with clouded eyes. Xander had heard it described as searching for holes in the fog. Black veins marked Dan’s arms and shoulders, snaking all the way up to his neck.

  As Dan reached one arm out tentatively, he exposed skin that appeared dried out and stretched thin. Even his fingernails were darkened and chipped into points. He didn’t even look human anymore.

  “No. Please, no.” Dan withdrew instantly and tried to shield himself with his arms as he caught sight of Xander. Dan backed away and pushed himself as far into the containment room as he could.

  Xander didn’t say a word. He pulled out his Thompson 1911C and shot him.

  When Ben arrived, Xander was still wiping down the tar-like blood before it contaminated everything.

  Xander threw soiled towels into a trash bag, then stripped off rubber gloves and threw them in as well. “Dump him a mile out. When you come back, I need you to mention this to Sam at the afternoon shift. Tell him that Dan got worse. He couldn’t take it anymore.”

  11

  The sun was obscured by a haze of clouds when Stella found herself once again outside of the entrance to the underground city. All eyes were on Xander as he paused before giving out orders. Stella knew he was running through the corridors in his mind, visualizing every hall, every turn, step by step. They waited until Xander dropped to his knees in front of the entrance that jutted out of the desert floor, metal surrounded by sand.

  Xander jammed his weight against the latch, which screeched to an open. They stood around the opening to the underground, staring into the darkness.

  “First group, take the hallway through the nurse’s zone,” Xander ordered.

  One by one, the men filed down the spiraling metal staircase. Stella heard boots against metal and watched the backs of their heads circling down until they made their way into the first passageway and she could no longer see them.

  It wasn’t long before they heard the faint sounds of screaming and the distance pop of gunfire.

  “Second group, head to the supply room, and don’t hold anything back. Today, we hit them hard,” Xander said.

  The second group wasn’t just the more experienced men. No. Xander had grouped together every gang member with a serious grudge against the city.

  Xander turned to Stella. “You ready?” he asked her.

  “Just like old times,” Stella muttered.

  “Not exactly.” Xander shook his head. “To get to the fruit, we’re going to have to go to the administrators’ lounge.”

  Stella didn’t know what to say. She just listened to her heart pounding in her chest, her palm slick with sweat. There was no way. What the hell was Xander thinking, asking the two of them to take a little stroll into the administrators’ lounge? He was going to get them killed.

  She was frozen. Did Xander expect her
to walk right into the lair of men who were only alive because they had feasted on the blood of her father?

  “I understand if you don’t want to go. I’ll go in alone.” There was no trace of disappointment in Xander’s voice. He meant every word. He wouldn’t ask her to do anything that she didn’t feel like she could do.

  “No,” Stella whispered. “No,” she said again, forcing her voice to be heard. “I can do this. I’ll go. It’s just that…” She stopped, leaving the words hanging. She clenched her hands into fists to stop her fingers from shaking. Saying it out loud made it too real. The words were a quiet confession of the power the administrators still held over her.

  “I won’t let them hurt you,” Xander promised. It was true. Xander’s desire to protect her was a constant in her life. Obsessed with safety, Xander would look out for her.

  He always had.

  How could she consider letting him face the administrators alone? He’d have his own demons to face.

  Stella patted the familiar weight of the Glock at her side before she grasped the cold metal of the banister. She descended into the underground, following the sounds of chaos below.

  Fluorescent lights flickered above with a static, nervous energy. Stella walked at a brisk, straight path, ignoring the citizens who zigzagged in front of her, running in panic. She walked with one hand resting by her hip. Long familiarity made her gun almost an extension of herself.

  Xander walked next to her with his pistol out, his hand on the trigger. Alone, Stella would have lurked in the shadows. Now, standing next to Xander, the gang leader and administrator heir, all eyes focused on her—at least until they turned and fled.

  Stella heard the sound of marching footsteps, and she casually leaned out of view just as a group of the advance guards ran down a perpendicular corridor.

  The usually packed hallways were emptying out from the raids.

  This far into the underground, the tunnels were widened and painted crisp white. The recessed light mimicked the brightness of the outdoors. It was too bright. Stella swallowed. The sense of exposure itched at her as anxiety hardened into a pit within her stomach. Stella found her path clear and she continued straight, stepping around a dead body.