We’re going into Dead City?” I asked nervously. “Really?”
Alex gave me an encouraging pat on the back. “Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Good,” I replied. “Because it sounds creepy, gross, and disgusting.”
“Oh,” Natalie chimed in, “then it is as bad as it sounds.”
“Yeah,” added Grayson. “Creepy, gross, and disgusting pretty much nails it.”
The three of them laughed.
“I’m glad my final exam amuses you all,” I said as I joined them and laughed too.
Dead City, or DC, is what the Omegas call the maze of abandoned tunnels, sewers, aqueducts, and catacombs that wind their way underneath Manhattan. It’s where zombies are free to move around without attracting attention from the living and where the bedrock walls of schist to recharge their bodies.
Dead City is also incredibly dangerous.
Omegas are allowed to go there only in groups of three or more. Natalie, Grayson, and Alex talked about it during training, but this was going to be my first actual visit. And if I’m totally honest, I’ll admit that as creepy, gross, and disgusting as Dead City sounded, part of me was excited to see what it was like.
First, though, we had to keep an eye on the four zombies in the park. They were our key to finding the flatline party. For a group of undead, they were a pretty lively bunch. They were joking and laughing about something when a man approached them. He talked to them for a moment before he continued walking toward the middle of the park. The four of them, however, headed in the opposite direction, toward the street.
“Here’s the next part of your test,” Alex said. “He just told them where the party is. What do we do?”
The three of them looked at me.
“Follow,” I said.
“Him or them?”
I hesitated for a second, worried that it might be a trick question. “Them.”
“Okay,” Alex said. “Show us what you’ve got.”
I looked at Natalie, and she gave me a confident nod. I knew I had to take charge and show them the surveillance skills she had taught me.
“A-B shadow technique,” I said, using the terminology from training. “Grayson and me in the first group, Natalie and Alex in the second.”
From her smile I could tell that I was off to a good start.
Grayson and I waited on the bench for about thirty seconds before we began to follow the four zombies to the street. Thirty seconds after that, Natalie and Alex started following us. That’s the key to A-B shadow technique. Because they were following us, Alex and Natalie were too far back to be seen by the people we were following. Every two blocks our two groups swapped places, making it less likely for them to notice any of us.
“You’re doing great,” Grayson said as we walked away from the park down Haven Avenue. “Really great.”
“Thanks.” I figured Grayson might offer moral support. That was partly why I picked him to be in my group.
We followed for about six blocks until the four of them turned down an alley. I kept an eye on what they were doing while Grayson bent over to tie his shoelace. This was the signal for Alex and Natalie to catch up to us.
One of the zombies lifted a grate from the ground, and the four of them quickly climbed down through the opening. The last one pulled the grate back over his head as he disappeared underneath. By the time Natalie and Alex reached us, the zombies were gone.
“Right over there,” I told them. “All four went down through a grate in that alley.”
“What do we do now?” Natalie asked.
“We’ve got to hurry up and go down there so we can follow them underground,” I said.
“How do we do that and keep them from seeing us?” asked Alex.
This one stumped me for a moment before I figured it out. “It won’t matter if they see us down there, because they’ll assume we’re undead, just like they are.”
“Good answer,” Alex said. “You’re thinking like an Omega.”
So far the test was going well, but I knew it was about to get a whole lot tougher once we got underground.
Alex pulled up the grate, which turned out to be much heavier than it looked. It opened up on a narrow shaft that went deep enough into the ground that I couldn’t see the bottom. Iron rungs had been built into the side of the shaft and formed a ladder.
“I’ll go first,” Grayson offered.
“No,” I said. “It’s my test. I’m going first.”
Alex pointed his flashlight down, but even with the light, I still couldn’t tell how deep it was.
“Piece of cake,” I said confidently, trying to convince myself as much as them.
I took a deep breath and started climbing down. One by one the others followed, with Alex going last. He was just pulling the grate back on at the top when I reached the bottom.
It took a minute or so for my eyes to adjust. Even when they did, everything was still mostly darkness and shadows. A few hundred yards away I could see a faint light bobbing up and down. It was a flashlight being carried by one of the zombies we had followed.
“This way,” I said, pointing down the tunnel.
I started to walk, and my first step was right into a pool of water. Luckily, Natalie managed to grab my arm and kept me from falling in. As it was, my jeans were soaking wet all the way up above my left knee.
“Please tell me this isn’t sewage,” I said.
Alex laughed. “Believe me, you’d know if it was.” He shined his flashlight across the ceiling. We were in a rounded tunnel about eight feet high in the middle. It must have been old, because instead of concrete it was made out of bricks. “It’s just rainwater. I think we’re in the Old Croton Aqueduct.”
His light illuminated a narrow walkway on one edge of the tunnel. On the positive side, it was above the waterline, so it was mostly dry. On the negative, the curve of the wall made you walk with a severe tilt to the left. Within a few minutes my neck was starting to hurt.
As we walked, I tried to keep a mental map of where we were, but without buildings and streets to go by, it was impossible. Even though one of the world’s busiest cities was only thirty feet above our heads, it felt like we were all alone on some alien planet.
Eventually the aqueduct met up with an abandoned subway tunnel, and we were finally able to stand up straight and stretch out. I rubbed my throbbing neck as I tried to figure out which way to go.
“Remember not to rub your neck at the party,” said Grayson. “Zombies feel no pain, which means their muscles don’t ache.”
I would have completely forgotten that. Still, since it was just the four of us now, I kept massaging it. There was some lighting in this tunnel, which made it easier to see where we were going. Unfortunately, it also made it impossible to see the zombies’ flashlight.
We were on our own. I wasn’t sure about the grading scale for the exam, but I was pretty certain it’d be an F if I got everybody lost in Dead City.
“What next?” Alex said.
“First of all,” I snapped, angrier than I intended, “I need you to be quiet and still.”
Alex smiled, not at all offended by my attitude. He was happy that I was taking charge.
We all stopped moving and talking, and Dead City became even eerier. I closed my eyes, and one by one I tried to identify and eliminate the sounds I heard.
First was the steady flow of water along the aqueduct. If you forgot where you were, it sounded just like a waterfall up in the mountains. Next I could hear the faint echo of a subway train rushing along a distant tunnel. One by one I went through the sounds until I heard the one I was searching for.
“Got it,” I said.
The others hadn’t picked up on it yet. “Got what?” asked Natalie.
“The only thing with a beat.” I pointed down the abandoned subway tunnel toward the faint thumping. “Music.”
They listened for a moment and then smiled when they heard it too. We followed the sound, which gradually got louder as we got closer. Along the way, we met up with more zombies coming from different directions toward the party. I got nervous but tried to hide it. I also kept telling myself the same thing over and over.
Do not rub your neck!
When we finally reached the party, I was speechless. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find, but I know it was nothing like what we actually came across.
First of all, it was beautiful.
The party was being held in an abandoned subway station unlike any I had ever seen. The walls and archways were covered with gorgeous tiled mosaics, while the ceiling had brass chandeliers and stained-glass skylights.
“What is this place?” I asked, staring up at the dazzling ceiling.
“Subway stations used to be a lot fancier,” Grayson said. “They closed this one back in the 1940s when the trains went from five to ten cars long. Ten-car trains are too long to fit in the curve.”
“So they just left it empty?”
“It’s called a ghost station,” Natalie said. “There are ten in New York. This one’s my favorite.”
The flatline party took full advantage of the location. On one side of the tracks, zombies of all ages were socializing. There were some Level 3s hanging out on the fringes of the group, but most everyone looked like normal, everyday people. They certainly didn’t look dangerous.
On the other side of the tracks was a long row of tables where merchants had set up shop. Strands of white lights hung from archway to archway, giving the whole station the look of an outdoor street festival or farmers’ market.
“You’re going to have to make it for thirty minutes on your own,” Alex said.
Suddenly, I was overcome with panic. “You’re not going to leave me here, are you?”
“Of course not,” Natalie reassured me. “We’ll stay close by and keep an eye on you.”
“And if anything goes wrong, we’ll step in,” Grayson added. “But the whole point is for you to pass yourself off as undead without any help.”
“Remember the no-breathers policy?” Alex asked.
“How could I forget?”
He looked me in the eye. “They take that seriously. So be careful.”
I nodded.
Just like that, they disappeared into the crowd and I was all alone. And here’s the hard part. Even if everyone at this party was alive and it was being held in the courtyard of my apartment building, I’d still have trouble fitting in. Social situations baffle me. I never know what to say or do.
I figured I’d have a better shot dealing with the merchants, so I made my way to their side of the tracks. Most of them were selling items to solve problems specific to the undead.
I watched a man demonstrate a tiny but high-powered flashlight. He pointed it down the subway tunnel, and it illuminated much farther than I would have thought possible.
I couldn’t help thinking that a light like that would have come in handy in the aqueduct. I was admiring it when a pair of hands suddenly grabbed my shoulders from behind. I tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight.
Then this unseen person leaned up and whispered into my ear, “Makeup like that won’t get you too far.”
I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even lasted fifteen minutes. I was trying to figure out an escape plan when she whispered something else.
“Come to my booth, and I’ll show you how to pass for the living.”
I looked over my shoulder and saw the smiling face of a woman who wore way too much makeup. She hadn’t blown my cover at all. She was just trying to make a sale.
She led me to a table filled with homemade beauty supplies and tried to convince me that I just “had to have” some of her special lotions and creams. She called them Betty’s Beauty Balms.
“Look at your hands,” she said with mock terror. “There’s no way you could pass those off as live human flesh. No offense.”
“None taken,” I replied, trying not to laugh.
“They’re too pale,” she explained. “But try a dab of this, and you’ll see a miracle.”
She scooped out a glob of coffee-colored cream and smeared it all over the back of my hand. Making it the same color as the Salinger sisters after one of their spray-on tanning sessions.
“See what I mean?” she said. “Now you almost look human.”
“Almost,” I said, still trying not to laugh. “Like you promised, it’s a miracle.”
“Great, so how many jars do you want to buy?” she asked hopefully. “Just ten dollars each.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” I answered, trying to be polite. “Let me get back to you.”
She went to show me something else, but I just turned away. I walked along the row of booths and stopped at a table where a man was selling something I thought should be in high demand in Dead City: toothpaste.
At least that’s what I thought it was until he held up a tube and asked, “Hungry?”
I was confused until he squeezed a dollop of brown paste onto a plastic spoon and I realized that it was food. Or at least the undead version of food.
Alex and Natalie had both warned me about this. Unless they were trying to pass themselves off in front of the living, the undead didn’t eat normal food. Instead, they usually ate a paste enriched with key vitamins and nutrients. They told me it wasn’t harmful to the living, but since the undead had heightened senses of taste and smell, what was pleasing to them was not to us.
“Lots of calcium and vitamin D for your bones,” he said, offering it to me. It was so unappetizing, it made cafeteria food look tasty. But I was worried that rejecting it might give me away.
I thought about the no-breathers policy and forced a smile. “Thanks. I’d love to try some.”
My plan was to take it all in one big bite. I tried to suck it down quick enough to keep from actually tasting it, but that didn’t work.
It tasted kind of like a big glob of wasabi I once ate by accident at a Japanese restaurant. As I forced myself to swallow it, I felt a burning sensation in my mouth and tears welling up in my eyes.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” he asked.
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded and went, “Mmmm.”
Fearful of what might have been waiting next, I bypassed all the other tables until I reached the end of the row. There, I came upon a guy who looked like he might be in college, giving a speech to anyone who would listen. He was bald and had a long scar that ran along his cheek and up to the top of his scalp. I wondered if it was the result of whatever had killed him. He passionately argued for the undead to stand up for their rights.
“Why should we hide underground like frightened moles?” he demanded. “We did not choose to be this way. We did not ask to lose the sweet taste of fresh air and the warm comfort of sunlight against our skin. We have as much claim to this city as the living. We need to come together and march forward as a group with one voice, to confront those who scare us so.”
“You’ll certainly scare them back with that scar of yours,” someone heckled him.
It didn’t seem to bother him that no one was agreeing with him. Some of the people laughed, and a couple tried to goad him into an argument, but he just kept making his points. That’s when I realized something.
He was absolutely right.
I thought back to the day the others had asked me to become an Omega. They said it was our responsibility to police and protect the undead. Training had focused a great deal on the policing part, but this trip to the flatline party and this speech had reminded me about the need to protect as well.
Most of the people at this party weren’t dangerous to anyone. They just wanted to live in peace. Even if their version of living was different from what we’re used to, it seemed like a fair request.
As others continued to give him a hard time, he looked into the crowd for a friendly face, and he settled on mine.
“What about you? Do you think the living know more than we do?”
I thought about it for a second. “No,” I answered honestly. “I think they know less than we do.”
He cocked his head to the side, surprised by what I had said. “What do you mean?”
“They only know what it’s like to be alive,” I replied. “We know that too. But they have no idea what it’s like not to be alive. That’s something they’ll never understand.”
He smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. This one speaks the truth.”
I was pleased . . . and a little freaked out. Not only was I able to pass myself off as undead (pleased), I was beginning to think that I might fit in better among them than among the living (freaked out).
Just then another hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. This time it wasn’t a vendor. It was Alex.
“We told you to blend in,” he said with a laugh. “Not stand out.”
Natalie and Grayson walked up from the other side.
“You made it to thirty minutes,” she said, pleased. “Let’s get out of here before you wind up running for zombie council.”
She laughed, and I could tell by their expressions that they were happy with how I had done.
“How do we get out?” I asked. “The same tunnel we used to get here?”
“Nah,” Alex said. “We should go straight to the surface. I know a shortcut.”
As we followed Alex, Grayson leaned toward me and whispered, “I liked what you said about the living and the undead. You’re absolutely right.”
Alex led us to one of the subway station’s old stairwells. It was blocked off by a metal gate, which he managed to pry open a little.
“This should take us up to the street,” he said.
We had to squeeze through the opening one at a time. I was the last one in our group, and there was a zombie right behind me using the same exit.
I smiled at him, but he didn’t respond. If I had to guess, I would have said he was a Level 3, but I wasn’t sure.
When it was my turn to squeeze past the gate, one of the metal links scratched a cut all along my forearm. It burned with pain, but I remembered not to cry out or make any pained expressions.
After all, only breathers feel pain.
What I wasn’t able to control, unfortunately, was the trickle of blood that started to run from my elbow to my wrist.
I looked back and saw the zombie staring first at the blood and then at me. Even in the darkness, there was no mistaking the orange-and-yellow glow of his teeth as he smiled and prepared to attack.