Refuge

“Daddy, look out, the tunnel is collapsing!” The low rumbling of the Manhattan subway tunnels rapidly grew into an ear splitting roar as the cement arches of the tunnels cracked, sending debris hurdling down to the grimy tracks. Tom grabbed Caitlyn and made a sprint for the exit, skipping over the rail’s cross bars while dodging falling hunks of cement, rebar, and asphalt. Up ahead, one of the old dusty subway cars lay dead on the tracks, a reminder of a society long gone.
The door open a crack, Tom pried it open, entering the safety of the car. The car was musty and gray, the stagnant air and lack of power revealing its lack of use for quite some time. Tiny amber dots lined the metal poles in the car, rust aging them away. Wiggling free of her father’s grasp, Caitlyn hobbled down the car’s interior. She took a flashlight out from her backpack, shining its beam on the walls. Glancing through the dim light, she looked at posters advertising job opportunities, coming movies, and Broadway musicals. Caitlyn hopped up on one of the train’s hard plastic benches to get a better look at a map of stops.
“Daddy, where are we now?” she asked, glancing to her father. Tom set down his massive backpack on a bench, its great weight causing the bench to slightly sag. In it was everything they required to survive; their food, water, batteries, even thicker clothes for when winter came in a couple months. At the bottom of the sack lay Tom’s phone. Its battery ran dry almost a month ago, not that anyone had answered any of their calls for help anyway. Tom walked over to his daughter before studying the map engulfed with her light.
“Hmm. Well, we’ve been traveling down the B-line all day. We passed by Cathedral Parkway about half an hour ago, I don’t remember seeing 72nd Street yet, so we must be near 81st Street,” he replied.
“What’s at 81st Street?” Caitlyn asked, tilting her head with a puzzled look.
“Why, my dear, 81st Street is West Central Park, which means it is the exit closest to the Museum of Natural History.”
“A museum! Oh Daddy, can we go? Please, please, pleeeeeease!!!” she begged.
“Well, alright, you’ve been well behaved lately, and you fought off that rabid raccoon yesterday with your crutch like a professional fencer. We need to find a warmer place to sleep than this subway car anyway, I guess we could spend tonight in the museum.”
Caitlyn reached up to hug her father, the cast on her ankle making it difficult to jump. Getting down from the bench, Caitlyn took her crutch back into her hand for balance and followed her father toward the exit of the subway car. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Tom stared out into the clouded tunnel, waiting a moment for the dust to settle to plan a path out.
From the dim, flickering glow of the flashlight, Tom could barely make out what looked like an emergency exit about thirty feet down the tunnel. Reaching into his pack, Tom retrieved fresh batteries, replacing them in the flashlight. ‘Dang, we only have six batteries left,’ he thought, ‘I’ll have to see if I can find any in the museum shop.’ Switching the light back on, the beacon banished the shadows, clearly revealing that the door to the exit was partially blocked by rubble. He considered using his flare gun to light one of the small propane containers in his pack to blast the rubble, but the last time he tried that damaged a support beam, causing their current predicament.
Tom knew Caitlyn needed to rest her leg, and they both hadn’t eaten in two days to conserve food, so time was of the essence. At the same time, he didn’t want to risk collapsing another portion of the tunnel.
“What would Carol have done?” He pondered aloud, thinking of his wife.
“Daddy?” Caitlyn asked, tugging his jacket, “Do you think Mommy made it to Grandma Barbara’s house in Boston already?” Caitlyn looked worried and fatigued. Even though Tom had slept a few hours last night, Caitlyn’s injured leg made sleeping a chore. The week of walking from Maine to their current place in Manhattan with little food or rest had really worn her down, but her mother had always told her that if something bad happened, to go to her grandmother’s house in Boston. Tom looked into his daughter’s eyes and knew that even though she was brave for the age of six, she couldn’t yet handle the truth.
“Of course, Sweetie, your mom is probably already waiting for us there. When we arrive, there will be grilled cheese sandwiches and a steaming hot mug of cocoa with your name on it!” Tom felt bad about lying to his daughter, but the way her face gleamed gave him hope, the same hope Carol had given him.
When Tom and his family began walking south from Michigan about a week ago, Carol had ventured off with a friend one day to find fresh water. Twelve hours later, the friend had returned with a gash on his chest and a bullet wound in the shoulder. With his dying breath, the collapsing friend informed Tom that a small gang of scavengers had caught them off guard. They tried to take their supplies, but when he and Carol refused, they responded with brute force. Carol was dead before she could even surrender, and he had barely escaped with his life. In the distance, the sun began to rise. Tom knew it would only be a matter of hours before Caitlyn awoke, so he respectfully buried the friend, while silently mourning the death of his wife of ten years. When Caitlyn awoke, Tom spun the story about how her mother had gone ahead to prepare for their arrival. She was upset to hear the story, but Tom knew she could handle that better than the news about her mother’s death.
Taking a crowbar from his pack, Tom ordered Caitlyn to stay at the car and hold the light steady, pointed at the door. Fumbling over the boulders of concrete, he reached the exit door and began to try to chip away at the debris blocking their path. When enough had been broken off to allow Tom to drag the hunks away, he returned to Caitlyn and he led her through the maze of rubble to the door. Behind it was a flight of stairs leading to the light.
Tom readied the flare gun should trouble be waiting for them at the top of the stairs. He had thought traveling through the abandoned subways would be safer than braving the wild surface streets, but after today’s incident, he never wanted to go underground again. Helping Caitlyn hobble up the steps with her crutch, Tom opened the second door leading to the outside world. He initially expected to be blinded by the sun, but the maroon skies informed him that they had tumbled in the blackness for far longer then he anticipated.
They were the only two souls on 81st Street that evening, save for a gray cat that prowled along the bushes across the street. Using the crowbar to shatter the window on the locked door, Tom ushered Caitlyn into the museum, still dimly lit by a back-up generator. Spotting a water fountain, Caitlyn rushed over to drink. The liquid was warm and tasted worse than those canned beans her dad heated each night, but it was better than no water at all. She refilled her canteen at the fountain before rejoining her father who was searching through the gift shop. In the drab light, he appropriated batteries, water bottles, and even a couple small colorful stones from the closed shop. The stones were virtually worthless, but should they find another survivor, they might be willing to trade the stones for something of value, like matches. Caitlyn picked up a stuffed lion, holding it tightly in her arms before yawning deeply.
“Oh Caitlyn, that’s a cute friend you have there,” Tom said, noticing the lion, “Let’s get you something to eat so you can sleep tonight.” As they wandered through the halls of the museum, Caitlyn ran from one glass case to another, astonished at the treasures locked away behind the transparent walls. She especially loved the display with the penguins, one of her favorite animals.
“Ok Daddy, can we sleep in the ‘pwanetarium’?” she asked with another yawn. Laughing, he agreed and they exited the shop, heading to the museum’s large planetarium. After they split another can of beans, much to Caitlyn’s dismay, she sprawled out across three planetarium seats wrapped in a blanket from Tom’s backpack, hugging her new lion friend.
“Sweetie, I’ll be right back.” called Tom, heading up the stairs. After a couple button presses, the planetarium dome lit up with swirling galaxies and twinkling stars. As his daughter fell asleep beneath the heavens, he listened to the distant hum of motorcycles and the crackling of gun shots.
His daughter safe and asleep Tom began reminiscing about the past couple weeks. He remembered how the world had fallen into chaos only three weeks ago when an unknown nation dropped a bomb on Washington DC, the entire national government wiped out in mere seconds by a force that no nation was willing to take credit for. A rumor he heard was that the ICBM had been a misfire, planned as a warning shot to China and North Korea who had been building up their forces as of late, but he heard countless other stories equally as far fetched. With no national government to lead, the states argued for control, eventually splitting into fifteen smaller nations. This new world order was scary and violent, but Tom would make sure he would keep Caitlyn safe through the journey.