Quarry Station
Dad promised he’d meet us at Quarry Station. He said to go and wait at the central subway hub for evacuation while he secured our passports and supplies. The connecting point of nearly every major track in and out of the city was filled with people waiting in dozens of lines. They had a system of tickets and numbers to ensure everyone got through but I didn’t fully understand how it worked at the time. Some people got their numbers and waited with the rest of us for over an hour; some people, usually dressed in fancy clothes, got a number and went right through.
The guards made sure everyone cooperated and stayed in order. Everyone was being courteous enough and even chatting about the game or how they planned to spend the holiday weekend. This wasn’t the first time we’d had an evacuation due to “hazardous substances” making their way into the air or water. They would make an announcement, explain the procedure and relocated everyone for a day or two while they conducted sanitation operations. This time it was the biochemical facility.
I didn’t mind and even looked forward to each visit to Quarry station. The blend of modern and gothic architecture was fascinating and I loved counting the various points and outcroppings of the massive vaulted ceilings. The one thing that bothered me was my mom. Usually playful and cheery during these evacuations, now she barely said a word and had a look of concern on her face.
I caught the scent on the wind before I heard the first scream, a woman’s high-pitched shriek that cut through all the conversations. Everyone went dead silent for a moment, before the wave of panic rolled over the crowd. The guards braced themselves as the people yet to receive their number tried to barge through.
“Shut the gates!” I heard someone call out.
“There’s too many out there, they’ll be cut off!”
“Shut the gates or we’re all dead!”
Mom grabbed me and I watched over her shoulder as two guards struggled with a security gate over the mass of people trying to squeeze under.
“Look at me, baby,” said a voice, close to me and comforting.
I turned towards my mom. She had a frantic look in her eye, yet seeing her face put me somewhat at ease.
A train had just left only a few minutes before and we weren’t expecting another for at least 10 minutes. My mom and I joined the crowd pushing their way up to the tracks. The station was a cavernous room with an intriguing blend of gothic and modern architecture. I remember I kept pointing at one of the archivolts and trying to get my mom to look at it. Her breathing was heavy and shrill.
In each direction, the track disappeared into an inky black tunnel. A strong odor of diesel stung my nostrils as I gazed all around the chaos. Everywhere people were shouting and screaming.
“Where’s the train?” a woman said, sobbing. A man slipped off the edge of the platform and landed on the tracks below. Someone else pulled him back up. More and more people flooded into the waiting area. I thought we were all going to get shoved off the side, but somehow everyone made room.
There was a crash at the top of the staircase followed closely by a scream. This one wasn’t like the panicked shouting; this was blood-curdling and wild.
“Mommy, is daddy going to meet us?” I asked.
My mom’s eyes were wide and her skin was as pale as a ghost.
“Mommy?”
Her eyes darted towards mine and she smiled. Setting me on the ground she said “alright baby, do you know how we race from the bottom of the slide to the swings and the winner gets to swing while the other pushes?”
I nodded.
“Alright, we’re gonna have to run just like that through this tunnel.” She pointed at the one leading off to the right.
“Can you do that, sweetie?”
I nodded again, smiling now. At least mom wasn’t too scared to play a game.
She helped me down onto the tracks before climbing down herself.
“Alright, Emily, get ready to run,” she said.
I knelt down like a cat ready to pounce.
“Run run! Go Emily go!”
I started sprinting down the track, my shoes crunching on the gravel over the sounds of chaos above. More people began jumping onto the track. My mom shoved a man aside as he nearly tackled me.
“Run Emily, keep go-“
Another man landed on top of her. I looked back to see her hands waving about underneath the sea of bodies.
Her muffled voice choked out one more time: “run.”
The screams now gave way to a low, animalistic moan. I turned and sprinted into the tunnel. The glow of the station vanished and gave way to total darkness. I knew the next stop wasn’t far, but I couldn’t see anything, but I heard several people around me breathing heavily and running around me. The screams from the station receded behind us and echoed into the tunnel.
I ran until my legs burned and my lungs ached. Were they still following us? I wanted to stop, but still saw my mom, desperately reaching out from under the twisting mass of legs and arms and bodies, telling me to run. I pushed onward. The air became moist, like when you visit the gorilla house at the zoo. A pinpoint of light appeared up ahead, quickly growing larger as we approached.
We heard the dripping at almost the exact same time we saw three figures swaying back and forth at the edge of the tunnel. Three silhouettes in the darkness. Each of them carried that low, guttural moan and behind them something dripped onto the gravel. The familiar putrid stench hit my nostrils.
“Oh God,” said a woman, her footsteps coming to a stop.
“Come on, we have to get through,” a man said.
I don’t know exactly what happened or how I managed to get past them. All I can recall is a whirlwind of arms and bodies and screams and ripping sounds and droplets of something hitting me as I slipped around them to the other side. The entrance was just up ahead now. I ran towards the light, my legs feeling like they were ready to fall off.
Finally, I stepped out of the darkness and rubbed my eyes. They stung from the sudden influx of light. I blinked several times as a scene of pure carnage came into focus. Pools of red liquid covered the floor like lakes on a map. It collected at the edge of the platform and cascaded over the side in fine crimson lines. The constant trickle echoed throughout the cavernous space. I walked forward, peering over the side. Several figures lay motionless on the floor but there were none of the creatures.
I looked back at the dark tunnel. Over the dripping, crunching and chewing sounds emanated from the blackness. I waited for my mom to emerge. She would be perfectly fine, just a little bit late catching up. She’d come running towards me and help me up the wall to safety. All I had to do was wait. I sat down on the gravel and fished a rock out of my shoe. Near the top of the vaulted ceiling, two birds flew towards their nest and landed. I wondered if they knew what was happening down here, or if they cared.
A new crunching sound floated out of the tunnel behind me. This wasn’t the same chewing as before, but more feet on gravel. Many more. And the moan that came with it told me they were close. I wrenched myself to my feet and jogged further down the track. The wall was too high for me to climb. Up ahead, a recessed ladder led to the platform. I ran as fast as my weary legs would move.
The crunching grew louder, and individual footsteps became a constant wave. The smell wafted over me, growing even stronger. I was almost at the ladder when a huge body tumbled over the side in front of me. It lay motionless for a moment and then slowly staggered to its feet. It wore an old tattered coat and work boots. On its head, a sprig of wiry black hair gave way to sunken, piercing green eyes and a gaping mouth drenched in red liquid. It lurched towards me, reaching with a gnarled hand, missing two fingers.
The sea of footsteps screamed in my ears. I couldn’t turn around and I couldn’t climb. I closed my eyes and waited for the thing to reach me.
Something grabbed the back of my jacket and jerked me upwards. I felt arms around me and smelled the familiar aftershave over the rotten stench. I opened my eyes. My dad was holding me close and running.
“Emily. Oh thank god.” He said.
The other man was struggling to climb out of the tracks as we ran up the stairs.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Said my dad.
I hugged his neck and looked back towards the tunnel as we ascended from the platform. They swarmed out of the darkness like ants.
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