What Lurks Between - A SciFi/Horror Novella - Part Eighteen

michaelkingswood (53)in #fiction • 7 years ago

The way is blocked, and they can’t get out. Now Barry and Sheila are going to have to face the monster, or find some other way to escape.

Artwork copyright Revensis and Mikhail Matsonashvili, licensed through Dreamstine

What Lurks Between - Part Eighteen

I crept back down the stairs slowly, easing each foot down onto the stair below before shifting my weight onto it to avoid making noise. It would have felt a bit comic - hell, I had to suppress the feeling that I looked a fool - but rising fear stamped down my self consciousness in favor of flight-or-fight.

I glanced over my shoulder to where Sheila sat, her back pressed up against the metal bars that sealed the entrance to the station. She managed a quick smile and thumbs up. Brave girl. She was clearly terrified, but was trying not to show it. I wondered how well I was doing in that regard.

Then I lowered myself down into the station proper, and I stopped, listening and looking.

The spot where the monster attacked me, and where Sheila knocked it for a loop, was easy to see from the smear on the floor. But aside from that, there was no visible indication of where it might have gone. The only noises were the soft hum of the fluorescent lights that illuminated the station and of ventilation fans whirring softly away in their ducts. Of course, the whole place smelled like crap.

It was not going to be easy to find this thing.

Listening to the fans, I considered briefly whether the bunny monster had crawled into the ventilation ducts and from there up to the surface, but quickly discarded the thought. It was not as nimble as it had been when we first “met”, and the babies were clearly coming any time. Chasing Sheila and I, hitching a ride on the T, and surviving the truck and Sheila’s attack must have drained a good portion of its energy. I let myself hope that it had crawled away into a corner to sleep, and maybe I could dispatch it while it was unconscious.

Fat chance.

I walked slowly across the wide open area past the entrance turnstiles, looking back and forth for any other sign of the monster, and saw nothing. Not a thing. There was not even a smear or streak leading away from where it had fallen. I continued on and found I had to force myself to breathe regularly. My heart pounded in my ears and it seemed like every step I took echoed loudly throughout the station, no matter how carefully I set my feet.

And so I was surprised to hear a rustling sound. Faint, almost inaudible, but it was there, off to my right, behind a closed-up concessions cart.

I thought for a second that it was just a rat, but I knew that was just wishful thinking. Part of me - a huge part - screamed to run, just get away from the thing. But the small little window of reason that I had been working so hard to maintain recognized that would be futile. The bunny monster had already proven more than willing and able to track me me down, and probably Sheila now as well, even on a moving train. Surely it would catch me on foot without any trouble at all.

And besides, where was I going to go? Down the train tracks into the darkness of the tunnels in between stations, where a train would likely run me down without noticing?

I froze in mid-step, not even realizing I had begun walking toward the concession cart, as the details of that idea struck me. Those tunnels all had maintenance accesses, walkways, things like that. Maybe we could get away through them, down to the next station. It could not be more than a quarter mile at most; that would just take a few minutes, and then we could get out.

Almost on cue, a low rumbling began to emanate from the tunnel leading off to the south, where we had come from. It got slowly louder, and I felt my heart leap. Another train! Maybe I could flag it down, and we would not have to walk, even.

I turned and dashed back to the turnstiles at the bottom of the stairs and gestured frantically for Sheila to come back down. She blinked, looking confused, then unbelieving. She shook her head, lips turned downward in a deep, frightened frown.

The rumbling was even louder, and I could see the light from the approaching train’s headlights begin to brighten the tunnel’s curve where the track bent out of sight to the south. Damnit, we were going to miss our chance!

I gestured again, more forcefully, and pointed toward the track. She could not see it, not from where she stood. I silently prayed - it had been ages since I’d done that with any regularity - that she would get my gist and move it.

The rumbling of the train grew louder. Beneath it, the squeaks of wheels against the tracks as the train reached the turn began to sound. And finally Sheila seemed to understand. She moved down the stairs, tentatively at first and then with greater speed as she got lower and heard the approaching train. She reached the turnstile and vaulted over. I turned and ran back toward the track.

The headlights were brilliant in the tunnel; the train was about to round the turn.

I reached the edge of the platform and waved my hands, shouting at the top of my lungs, just as the train burst into sight and came barreling into the station. For a brief moment I saw the conductor - driver? What do they call those guys on subways anyway? - as he approached. He gave me a look that someone reserves for an idiot, and then he was gone, out of my sight as the train sped past. He never even applied the brakes.

The train sped off to the north, the red tail lights first bright but steadily dimming as it sped away, and I lowered my arms. I realized I was still shouting and stopped. It would alert the bunny monster. Not that it needed alerting, but still…

“Son of a bitch.”

Sheila stood next to me, watching the train speed away with despair in her voice. I glanced toward her and saw it on her face as well.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re getting out of here.”

I grabbed her hand - she did not try to pull away - and led her toward the northbound tunnel at the end of the platform. I swore under my breath when we reached it. There was not a service walkway, like I thought there would be. Would there even be one further down?

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Sheila pulled back then, removing her hand from my grasp as she shook her head in denial. “You want to walk down the tracks.”

“Better than waiting here for that thing to get its act together.”

“We’re waiting for the cops.”

“Are you really sure they will get here first?”

Just then a loud thump echoed through the station. It came from the direction of that concessions cart. A cold spike of terror surged through me, and I could see from her expression that Sheila felt the same.

“No choice,” I said, and held out my hand to her.

She looked back over her shoulder toward the turnstiles and the stairs leading up, then swallowed and took a deep breath. Then she nodded to herself and took my hand.

Together we hopped down from the platform onto the tracks and ran northward, into the darkness of the subway tunnel.

*****

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