Chapter 04 | The Underground

The simple wooden door closed behind her gently despite her haste. Turner’s absence was concerning, but Charlie was even more concerned for Adam. He led the group well, despite all the problems he had to juggle. His stress was one of the reasons she had taken on a human resources role. She kept track of the daily issues of the Underground’s members so that Adam could focus on other pressing issues. What she had found so far among the living was that most of the other survivors were still in a state of intense shock, and were not quite ready to make themselves useful.

She still made a point to know them all by name—and to learn their skills. Adam made an effort to know everyone as well—but if he were ever looking for a specific talent, he would have just one person to ask. Her other major contribution to the Underground was as their doctor. Her experience as an ambulance medic made her the closest thing to a doctor that they had. By no means did she limit herself to those tasks alone, but they were her focus. Charlie was watchful for any other way she could assist Adam. It was middle management, but someone had to do it—and she had to do something.

Cots haphazardly lined the passenger subway loading platform. The one entrance that hadn’t been blocked remained guarded by Dane and Karelia. They took turns, but even they had agreed that it made them less useful during the group’s day trips searching for supplies. That was one thing which Charlie didn’t feel qualified helping.

The beam of the flashlight—dimmed to a slit by Charlie’s fingers—fell on a massive figure breathing in a gentle sleep. The man slept in the clothes that he wore at all hours. Charlie had never seen Dane Ashfield wearing anything other than the matte green, textured bodysuit. His rifle leaned against the cement pillar closest to his cot, and there were several other weapons lined neatly beneath the bed. In the few passing conversations the two had shared, he had been a very reservedly kind individual, and Charlie gave no hesitation to bending over and trying to shake the man awake.

Suddenly she was on her back, pinned down by the hulking man. She had no memory of what had transpired between the shake—she knew there had only been the one—and the feel of cement on her back. She failed to find air as his intense brown eyes bore into hers. Almost immediately, he pushed himself up and offered a hand to her. Charlie released a wheezing cough as the air returned to her lungs. Dane spoke with a quiet haste, “Ms. Faraday, please forgive me. Just… as a warning, never shake someone of my profession awake like that. Are you okay?”

She nodded in response and took his hand, still not able to speak—barely able to stand on her own. Still, she pushed away from Dane. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. He began to strap some of his weapons to himself as he continued, “What’s happening?” Charlie barely noticed his cold smile beyond her headache.

That was the question. Not why he had been awoken, not what she was up to, rather: where was the danger? “Turner’s missing. Adam wants you and Karelia.” Her voice was quiet and a little more labored than she would have liked. Quiet was good—the other members of the Underground need not be troubled by this. She glanced at a couple of the nearby people. They were still asleep at this hour.

Dane’s response was a simple nod that didn’t move his short, gray-streaked caramel hair. He was not old, per se, but he looked as if he’d lived through more than any two men should in a lifetime. He started walking towards Adam’s room. Charlie followed, limping slightly, but trying to hide it. Dane spoke in the same unwavering tone as before. “I’ll go straight to Adam. You go get Karelia.” It was Charlie’s turn to nod. As they split, he caught her arm. “And Charlie? Don’t shake her—she might react worse than I did.”

Charlie took that into consideration. Worse was hard to imagine, though if anyone could wake up worse it would certainly be Karelia. She seemed to be from a similar profession as Dane. She gave a quick glance around the nearby sleepers again. It pained her to see so many people so hope-impoverished.

The encampment wasn’t large—only around fifteen survivors were taking refuge here, under what little protection the Underground could offer. Most of these accidental survivors were parasites to the community, using up the resources that the active members of the group procured—but Adam thought that would change in time. Hopefully he was right. Charlie didn’t exactly agree, but she did trust Adam’s judgement.

“Hey,” a man asked from behind, quietly. She turned to see Anton, a tall and lanky man. He took a bite out of a peach in his hands. “What’s going on? How can I help?”

“Uh,” Charlie said, failing to figure out a way to tell the man that things were handled when they very clearly weren’t. “Thanks, but I’m not really sure.” He was relatively new to the group, and she still hadn’t had much time to get to know him. He didn’t look as though he could fill in as a guard. Maybe he could join the retrieval party, but the four of them already had the party filled out. “I’ll let you know if we need help.” She smiled at him, and the left corner of his mouth twitched. She wondered where he had gotten that peach—the kitchen had long since run out of fresh fruit. But she had no time to question it.

“Well, good luck,” he said before turning back down the hallway. Charlie turned again and continued to run towards Karelia. He wanted to be helpful, and Charlie regretted having told him he couldn’t. But there wasn’t anything she felt she could trust him with yet.

Once at the other end of the cots, she looked at the large tent that Karelia Black had set up as a private room. She was smaller than Dane, but equally deadly. She had left the tent’s door open, so Charlie was able to see her. A tattoo framed the left side of her face—four smooth lines connecting her hairline to her jaw, separating only for her steely blue eyes, and rumpled by a brow that was always worried.

Before she could even make a noise, Karelia asked, “What’s the trouble, Charlie?” Though she lay on a cot, she looked ready to jump into action. Her hair was shorter than Dane’s—except for the two locks that framed her face. All of it was dyed a fading green shade except for the blonde roots beginning to show. She was tough, and possibly tougher than Dane. Though survival was not exactly a competition, the sly glances when working on the same projects and their vying for favor from Adam certainly told Charlie that they tried to survive better than each other. After relaying the information, Karelia sprang to her feet, and—without a word—sprinted to Adam’s room.

Adam and Dane were already discussing where Turner might be. Adam still sat on his short cot, his legs forming two perpendicular lines. It looked uncomfortable, but Adam—with downcast blue eyes and fingers in his not-quite-shaggy brown hair—looked less concerned about personal comfort than finding ways to protect the people who followed him. Charlie did not envy him that, but she was glad that someone did that. But no group should be lead by only one person—especially when every choice could mean death. She thought, at least, that her medical assistance to the members of the Underground took some of the pressure off of the one-time bartender. The wrinkles on his face were the only ghost that he had ever smiled.

Dane was leaning against the cement wall to the left of the door. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling. “It’s a big city, though, and he could be anywhere.” Adam nodded slowly at Dane’s words, his breath a little faster than Dane’s.

“Then we start somewhere and fan out. I don’t care what it takes; we can’t lose another person. He’s too good of a man.” Turner was a good man—so Charlie thought—though she’d had few conversations with him. She trusted him with her life in battle, and she thought that he would reciprocate, but she had yet to learn enough about him to call him a friend.

“Reporting.” Karelia stood straight—and Charlie noticed Dane straighten as well. Adam looked up to Karelia—who was even more formal than Dane had been. Despite the formality, she continued, “If I may?” Adam gave a short nod, but Karelia had already started talking. “He’s likely to come back. He’s not a deserter.”

Adam parted his lips to speak, but Dane cut in with a friendly yet concerned: “He could be injured or captured.” She nodded in return—a curt bob of the head that drew attention and silence. Adam glanced at Dane. Charlie shifted on her feet, uncertain if she should remain in the room. But Adam hadn’t dismissed her, so she looked around the room for a place to rest. Failing to find one, she resolved to stand.

“I’m not saying we don’t look for him, but we have a duty to the others here as well. And that’s not to mention the supply party we’re supposed to send out at dawn—we need to get as many supplies as we can. Other smaller groups can’t be allowed the head start.” Dane shifted his weight back onto the wall. For all he liked to play the part of soldier, he certainly took a lot of liberties with his posture. Karelia remained at attention for a moment before slackening.

Karelia strode deeper into the room, moving to a wall that she could lean against. Charlie had a distinct feeling that she felt her position wasn’t right. “We can salvage ammunition as we search for—” She cut off as Dane waved a green-gloved hand.

“We can make ammunition if it—when it—comes time, but what are we going to eat once we run out of canned food? We’re almost at the end of the shelf life for the produce we have.” He didn’t need to mention the frozen food—with no real way to keep them frozen, it had been the first type of food to be eaten. There was, of course, a plan for that—but it was a secret. Three days ago, Adam and Charlie had discussed sending a small party from the Underground out to the country to search for fertile land. They had started to save the seeds from fruits and vegetables, but neither of them knew how to tell if soil was good. Still, a farm might also have livestock to live off of until they could cultivate some crops. The supplies in the city were already beginning to dwindle. Beyond that, the outlook was—at best—bleak.

There was no source of food production—it was just what was left in the cabinets of abandoned houses and on the shelves of supermarkets—but all those were going to be gone soon. “It’s the responsibility of everyone in this room to take care of everyone outside this room.” Karelia’s words shocked Charlie back to the present and sent a chill through the room. It had never been said outright before—but this group of four was certainly the most cohesive part of the Underground. Charlie could barely include herself in that. She just wanted to be helpful. Surviving would take more than just sitting around mourning a world she’d rather forget.

After the cold silence, Dane spoke again with a quiet sobriety. “We don’t know where to look, and we need to gather supplies for those who are here. I would be happy if we found him, but we shouldn’t waste the resources.” Charlie peered at Dane again. He looked like a stone wall, hardened by decades of harsh weather. The sunlight’s warmth had never reached the shade he cast.

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Karelia was glaring. She was also someone Charlie doubted had ever felt that warmth. There was, however, a good deal of anger as well—though she didn’t appear bothered by it. It seemed to be a part of her that she accepted and utilized. Charlie brushed an annoying lock of hair out of her face, taking the opportunity to look at Adam. His eyes were now closed and his brow was a scowl, but he remained silent, listening to the two squabble over adventure and resources.

“We’ll get our adventure, don’t you worry.” It was Charlie’s turn to furrow her brow. That comment almost sounded like Dane was… flirting. She must have misread the tone of his voice, though Karelia’s lips turned up briefly as well. He continued with the faintest amount of laughter staining his voice. “Just us on that one.”

“I’d rather wear a dress.” They were flirting! And in competition! This certainly shed new light on their hushed talks. Charlie was about to say something, but Adam looked past her to the doorway, lowering his hands as he stood from the cot. Dane’s instantaneous reply of sarcastic agreement prevented her from speaking. Adam spoke over Dane, but not to the group. His face relaxed, but his voice still held anger.

“Where have you been?” Charlie turned just in time to see Turner offer a small shrug. In the dealings she’d had with the man, she had found him aloof but quite capable of surviving. Turner scrubbed his hair before loosely hanging his arms at his sides and stuffing his hands into his dark gray cargo pants, all the while walking towards the room. As he entered, all eyes shifted to him. He was carrying a trash bag that looked fairly full of what must have been items worth salvaging. Charlie moved to the other side of the room to make room for him to enter.

“I was out on Ellis Island… at the prison.” He spoke almost mechanically, weariness painting the canvas of his face. “I found us a few supplies—some decent rope, some food and utensils; a couple burlap sacks—” Before he finished—or, perhaps as he was finishing, depending on how you looked at it—another, unfamiliar and slimy, voice spoke out.

“Aww, you’re leaving out the best part: you found me.” The other man sauntered into the room, coming to stand behind Turner and firmly placing his left hand on Turner’s shoulder. There was something grossly untrustworthy about the man, though Charlie couldn’t place her finger on it exactly. Turner looked to Adam with a pained expression, but did not move the hand. Adam remained stolid, extending his hand to the stranger. He also held a trash bag—even more full than the one that Turner carried.

“Adam. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you here to join us or just need a place to rest?” The stranger cautiously eyed Adam for a moment before offering a thin smirk.

Loudly speaking to Turner in a way that everyone in the room could plainly hear, the man added to his point by jabbing his thumb towards Adam on the mention of him. “Who’s this chump?” Dane and Karelia tensed, and the air of the room got even colder. Charlie wished that she was somewhere else. Turner looked abashed, and Adam dropped his hand to his side.

Turner took a pained breath and a step towards Adam before his reply. The other man dropped his hand to his side. “Adam’s the leader of the Underground.” The man shook his head sarcastically at his Turner’s reply, but remained where he was, his arm dropping to his side too.

The older man mumbled something about being surrounded by chumps, then said loudly and impatiently, “Call me Kris,” he turned to Turner and said without trying to hide it, “I thought you said you were the leader.”

Before Turner could respond, Adam politely asked, “What’s your stay?” The other man looked around the room for a moment, then with a sigh that might have been a yawn, he finally replied. The two men dropped their bags on the ground.

“Oh, I might stay here a few nights at least, if it pleases me. I have a good deal of… things to get up to.” The man sounded casual, but something in his voice said that he had thought of this response hours ago. Turner took no more steps, but mouthed a word to Adam.

Adam—pretending not to notice—gave Kris a slow nod. And then, Adam turned to Charlie and asked, “Can you show Kris to a place he can set his stuff up?” Kris looked to Charlie for the first time with a blank stare.

“Well, I wish I had noticed you sooner.” It was gruff, but warm. A little too warm, in fact. Charlie did not like this man in the least, but with no way to get out of the situation, she nodded and walked towards the exit, merely glancing to Adam with a briefly disgusted, cold look. At least, that’s the look that she intended to give. “Dane; Karelia, can you go sort through those bags? I’ll come find you when I need you.” They both nodded, rushed to the larger sack—which Dane got to first, much to Karelia’s chagrin—and quickly left the room, followed closely by Charlie who—in turn—was followed by Kris. Turner awkwardly shuffled out of the way as the party filed out of the small room. Neither of them spoke before the door closed.

The Underground was lit by fluorescent tubes, but it still felt too dark. In an effort to conserve as much of the remaining fuel in the generator as possible, most of the tubes had been removed. They all knew they would eventually run out of power—in a month? Two? How much longer until they had no food supplies, or water supplies? How much longer could they bunker out? None of them were ready to ask those questions yet, as if it was untrue before it was spoken. Charlie and Adam had talked about it, briefly, a couple of days after the attack—but the best answer they could come up with was ‘long enough’—although neither of them knew what that meant. The Attack. That’s what Adam thought had happened, but Charlie didn’t know who, or what, had attacked.

“Well?” Charlie was pulled back to the moment once more. Kris was staring at her, waiting to be lead to a cot. “You know,” he added, trying to be casual, “We could always share a cot.” Charlie almost vomited. The thought was detestable. She said nothing, instead putting on a scowl and glancing behind her. She barely heard him say, “You know, you could almost be pretty if you just smiled once in awhile. Try it.” Karelia was trailing them, silently watching. She had given the bag to Dane, apparently—probably mutual. She was someone Charlie liked and respected, as hard as she could be. Inside there was someone worth befriending, buried beneath layers of disguises and spikes.

“Just follow.” Charlie said, looking back towards the hallway. They walked past the cots, all the way to the end that Karelia slept on. They walked in silence, which was perfectly fine with her—she wanted nothing to do with this loathsome man. When they arrived, she spoke with a purposeful coldness—anything to make this man give up. “We don’t have spare cots, but you can lay your stuff out on the floor here until we can salvage you some bedding.”

As she turned to go, she gave Karelia a small, apologetic shrug as Kris spoke something curious about having had better sleeping conditions before. Karelia mouthed, “Let him try something” as Charlie left the scene. Over her shoulder, she heard him trying to flirt with Karelia. She almost stayed to watch the man get put in his place, but decided that cold detachment was the better route. She wanted to get back to Turner and Adam. Turner would have found some useful items, and Adam would need someone to complain to. So often recently, Charlie had been that ear, and she found that she didn’t mind so much. Someone had to listen to those issues and provide a second eye, and with Dane and Karelia developing a training program, she was who was left.

Once again, she trudged down the aisle of cots, back to Adam’s room, where she knocked on the door. It opened, and Turner allowed her entrance. He looked a little abashed, and Adam’s face was white, but they both welcomed her with calm voices. “Hi.” Turner said, right over Adam’s “What’s up?”

“I don’t like him. I’m sorry, Turner, but I think he’s trouble.” She looked to Turner cautiously, trying to read his expressionless face. Adam also glanced to Turner, but quickly cast his eyes back to Charlie, sitting back down on his cot—his knees becoming right angles once more as he ran his fingers over them twice.

“You’re probably right,” Adam said after a moment. “He seems like trouble, and we should all be guarded around him. I hate to not trust anyone down here, but we’d probably do well to watch him closely.”

All Turner offered was, “Definitely watch him.” Adam, in contemplation, slowly bobbed his head in approval of the calmness exuded by the Turner. “I fear a complicated future awaits.”

“A complicated future always awaits,” Adam said mutedly. “But between everything that’s happened, what else can we think if not that there is still some hope—somewhere in us—however small that may be?” It was Charlie’s turn to bob her head slowly, but Turner shook his head in disbelief.

“You know I want nothing from him, and nothing to do with him.” It was odd to hear, seeing as he had brought the man to the Underground. But Charlie thought it a question better left unvoiced. What she did give voice to, however, was something that was slightly more pressing, at least at the moment. Kris was a wildfire waiting to happen, and she was no firefighter. So, instead, she asked, “Can I go search a library? We need more medical books for our shelves.”

“We need to collect food. Nothing can be more important than that right now, sorry.” Adam’s voice was full of exhaustion, but also apologetic. He hated telling people no, yet there was solid reasoning behind his choice.

Still, Charlie didn’t want to send the normal group out for medical books—they didn’t know what Charlie still needed. “No, I mean just myself. It’ll be easier for me to find what I need.” Adam looked up at her.

After a moment, he stood once more—almost trying to stretch his legs out, but stopping himself just in time. “Alright, but I’m coming with you. I need the fresh air.” After a brief pause, he continued, “Well, I need the air anyway. And I don’t want anyone leaving the Underground alone.” He glanced to Turner—that cold remark dug coolly, however deserved it might be.

Turner nodded before saying, “I would help, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to try and catch some sleep.” Adam nodded to tell the man that he could leave, but he had already turned to go. Charlie stepped out of his way and closed the door behind him. She looked to Adam who was nodding thoughtfully.

“When are we leaving?” He asked. Though there was no desperation in his voice at the moment, Charlie knew that Adam would want to go soon, now that the morning’s crisis was settled. As good of a leader he was, he needed a breather occasionally.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Charlie said as she watched Adam move around the room, carefully choosing a few items to carry with him—a hunting knife, small pistol, and what looked to be a mostly empty backpack. She checked the pockets of her cargo pants. She still had her flashlight, matchbook, and multi-tool. Ammunition was scarce, and she had not yet been trained to shoot a gun—nor did she yet trust herself to carry one. Most people could be talked down, if given the right circumstances, but she had always found ways to evade situations that she couldn’t talk herself out of. Karelia had been working on training her on the basics, but those lessons came few and far between with all the work and limited hands that both equally plagued the Underground.

Charlie nodded as Adam said, “Then—let’s not hesitate.” They turned to the door and exited the room. Her backpack was next to her cot, on the way out. They walked in silence until they reached the makeshift bed. Dane was resting—well, sitting—in a camping chair that he kept next to his cot, looking out towards the one way that a shadow wolf could come into the subways, his back against a cement pillar. She doubted that resting was in the man’s vocabulary—he was as much an extension of whatever weapon he happened to have as it was the other way around.

“I’m going out.” Adam quietly told Dane as Charlie donned her backpack. “You’re in charge.” Dane just nodded as Adam explained where they were going and for how long. That was the common protocol—everyone watched everyone, whether or not they were in a party together or not. The entire group looked after every member. But they needed more members to share the tasks of surviving—but more desperately, they needed food and medical supplies.

She wasn't naive enough to be able to think they would find two—never mind three—bagfuls of food and supplies. Even if they did find enough to fill the backpacks, chances were they would be attacked and end up needing to discard most of it anyway. That was also the way of surviving. Discard your gear, or be attacked. People could be driven to drastic measures when their lives were the wager.

Adam sighed as they neared the exit. "Be careful.” He cautioned Charlie, as if she didn’t already know. “Who knows what we'll find." Even with her pessimistic view on the excursion, she couldn't help but hope they would find something. They needed supplies. They needed a break.