The Underground

A Story by Tandakku

Looks can be deceiving.

Any passerby would believe it was just an ordinary day. Like any other ordinary day in the under ground, hobos begged for money, people ignored others, and the train passed on rhythmically.

But today was not a normal day. Oh, the homeless still sang like cats being thrown into cacti, people still ignored each other, and the train still passed on its preset schedule. But something was wrong.

You could see it in the way people paused every now and then, taking a moment to notice their surroundings. Instead of seeing their day-to-day routine, they saw something else. They took notice on this day, because they realized, somehow, that something was not going according to plan. They could feel it in their very bones, and they did not know how to react.

So they paused in their swift strides, they peered at the hobos as they passed, but they continued their daily lives because of their inability to react to anything other than their innate sense of normal.

At 3:45 pm on the day of July twenty-first, a train passed the nervous people of the underground. Two people within, Margaret Cunningham and Taylor Pince, sat side-by-side with a strange sense of camaraderie in the reality that they had similar schedules.

Margaret, an older woman of sixty-two, shifted but an inch to the right, away from the man next to her and, coincidentally, away from the cockpit. Sweat beaded at her brow, yet her eyes stayed fixed at a single point at the side of the car. Her hands twitched every so often, and Taylor glanced wearily at her from behind his newspaper.

Taylor, thirty-two, felt a sense of finality as he watched Margaret. He realized that, though every day he vowed to never board the train again, he continually would. Maybe it was gluttony for punishment, maybe it was his slothful habits, maybe it was even a strange sense of wanting to be near those who were like him. Whatever it was it wasn’t good.

Margaret twisted one hand through the other, and Taylor gasped as the cockpit door burst open, cracking against an adjacent window. Spider webs laced across the tinted glass and a young woman scowled out at the passengers, an AK-47 gripped in her petite palms. Taylor’s sense of finality gripped him around the throat as the woman screamed.

“Everybody down!” she cried, and every passenger hit the metal floor moaning. Everyone, except Margaret, who remained seated, her eyes still fixed on the wall across from her. Taylor tugged at her pant leg, attempting to rouse her onto the ground with him. “Grandma, let’s go! Get to the others before somebody calls 9-1-1!”

Margaret stood mechanically, her hands still twitching, and Taylor gaped as she moved toward the other compartments. Her hand reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, and a small handgun appeared.

Taylor gripped the back of his head, his forehead kissing the cool metal floor as he cursed the fact that he had boarded the train.

Margaret turned, her knuckles white as she gripped the handgun. The woman bellowing above Taylor quieted as Margaret turned a frown on her.

“Ari, I can’t-“

“You’re gonna do it, Nanna!” her scowl turned desperate, and the AK sunk in her grip. “We need to do this. I thought you loved me!”

As Nanna denied the accusation, Taylor’s gaze turned on the newspaper he had dropped in his haste to get to the floor. The leafs had slid across the floor, separating and wrinkling.

Ari stepped forward, the AK gripped in only one hand now. Nanna stepped back, past Taylor as Ari approached. Nanna continued to shake her head, murmuring refusals and assurances. The entire populace of the car followed the AK-47 as it moved, feeling a distinct sense of anticipation.

A satisfied smirk appeared on Taylor’s chapped lips as Ari lunged at Nanna, howling something about betrayal. Nanna fell back, and the world held its breath as Ari’s foot approached the floor.

Her foot slipped out from under her, and she was falling forward while Nanna was stumbling back, and people were screaming as bullets showered the area around them.

Taylor had barely moved an inch when the world turned black.