© 2012 Phylicia Joannis
“If we can’t boil the water, there’s no way for me to clean the wound,” the Nurse frowned.
“And no way for us to have drinking water either,” the Climber added.
“We should be rescued soon, though, right?” I looked at the Congressman, hopeful. So did the rest of us.
The Congressman nodded his head. “Soon, I hope,” he murmured.
“What if they’ve forgotten about us?” Dreadlock asked. “What are we going to do if no help comes?”
“They’re coming,” the Congressman reassured him.
“How do you know that?” the Complainer shook his head. “For all we know, that metallic doohickey never said a word to you.”
“What?” the Congressman looked at the Complainer, incredulous. “You think I made it up?”
“Well it’s been what?” the Complainer responded. “Two or three hours with no rescue, no word, not even a squeak from a rat that anybody’s on their way here! And I, for one, am tired of waiting!”
“We have been waiting a long time,” the Climber acknowledged. “What if they have forgotten? Or what if no rescue is coming?”
“Why would the man tell me help was on the way if no help was actually on its way?” the Congressman shook his head angrily. “I wouldn’t make up a story like this!”
“Well, we’ve all been here a long time,” the Nurse spoke softly. “It’s possible after hours without food or water that we might get a little delirious and begin imagining things we hope are true.”
“I didn’t imagine anything,” the Congressman bristled. “That thing spoke. The guy controlling it asked who I was, how many of us were here, and told me in no uncertain terms that help was on the way and we should stay put.”
“What if he was lying?” the Complainer offered.
The Congressman scowled and rolled his eyes. “Why would he lie?”
“Well, what would you do if you were in his position?” the Complainer continued.
“What position?” I asked.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but the moment I step foot outside I’m bringing a massive lawsuit against the transit system,” the Complainer stated. “Multiply that by seven. I don’t know who you spoke to, but I’m sure telling his bosses that they’ve got seven passengers and one dead man trapped underground won’t get him employee of the year.”
“Do you really think they’d leave us out here?” the Old Woman shook her head.
“I would,” the Climber rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think we should wait any longer. I think we should get out of here.”
“And go where?” I asked. “The tunnel entrance is caved in, and we’re surrounded by quicksand-”
“Sinkholes,” the Complainer corrected me. “And we’re no better off in here.”
“What about him?” I pointed to Dreadlock. “He can’t walk out of here.”
The Nurse looked up. “He’s no better off in here without medical supplies. I say we find a way out.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” I looked frantically at the Congressman. “He said help was on the way, and I believe him.”
The Nurse looked at me, sympathetic. “It’s not a question of whether we believe him. We’ve waited here too long already. We have no food or water.”
“We should stick together,” the Old Woman suggested. “If we stay or if we go, we’re more likely to get through this together than split up.”
The Congressman nodded. “Let’s put it to a vote, then.”
“Ah, democracy lives,” the Complainer snorted.
The Congressman ignored him. “There are seven of us altogether. We vote by a raise of hands; four hands for either will be the majority and everyone has to vote. Agreed?”
We all nodded.
The Congressman lowered his head and sighed before raising it again to look at all of us. “All in favor of leaving the car to find a way out, raise your hand.”
I watched as three solemn hands pierced the thick, dirty air and tried hard to swallow the lump in my throat.
The Nurse, the Climber, and the Complainer were all in agreement.
Dreadlock looked to the Nurse, parted his lips, then closed them.
“Remember, everyone needs to vote,” the Complainer spoke vehemently. “If you want to get out of here, you need to raise your hand.”
“Alright,” the Congressman chided. “We don’t need you badgering us in order to make a decision. Let’s move on.”
***
Penny grabbed the coffee from the street vendor, thanking him as she parted with her last two dollars. The heat permeated through the cup and warmed her cold, clammy fingers. She took a small sip. It was scalding hot, but it was good.
Penny smiled. Her paycheck would come in tomorrow and she’d give every bit of it to her landlord, her phone company, her water company, her credit card companies, and her leeching, unemployed brother. But, that was tomorrow. Today, she just wanted to pamper herself with a cup of her favorite coffee from Abib’s cart.
Penny took another sip and felt her body shiver in delight. The coffee must be really good today. Penny pursed her lips in preparation for another delightful sip when her body shivered again, this time with more force. She frowned as her stomach pitched forward. A pop beneath her feet startled her and she dropped her coffee.
The sidewalk opened up beneath her and Penny looked down, frozen in fear. Her hot coffee charted a watery trail through the crack in the ground to the earth below. All around her, pedestrians and vendors clamored and clawed at one another in an effort to distance themselves from the cement crater. Penny’s mind told her to run, but her feet refused to budge. The ground cracked again and she screamed. A moment passed and Penny felt her feet leave the ground.
***
“We all agreed that we’d stay or leave together,” the Congressman held his head in agitation. The Complainer was campaigning for an additional vote.
“This is a weighty decision,” the Complainer shouted emphatically. “You can’t put it to a vote and give people ten seconds to decide. You have to weigh the pros and cons first! Argue your case!”
“We already know the pros and cons,” the Congressman sighed. “If we go, we may get trapped in a cave-in, and if we stay-”
A horrible piercing sound interrupted the Congressman and we all looked up at the train car’s floor.
“What now?” I whispered.
The subway car croaked and we all watched in horror as the subway floor began to collapse.
“Look out!” the Climber shouted as a plaster board nearly squashed the Nurse. Dreadlock employed a weak attempt to stand to his feet, but collapsed in pain. The Nurse and the Old Woman quickly came to his aid to pull him away.
“What’s happening?” I gasped. My eyes darted wildly across the ceiling.
“We have to get out of here, now!” the Complainer shrieked. He and the Climber pulled open the car doors and disappeared into the darkness.
“What are they doing?” I cried. “Where are they going?”
The Congressman grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door, picking up the drone along the way. The Old Woman, the Nurse, and Dreadlock followed behind as quickly as they could. Dreadlock’s face was set in a permanent grimace, but he managed to hobble out with us.
As we exited the car we caught the redemptive rays of the flashlights held by the Climber and the Complainer.
“This way!” the Climber called out, flashing the light to illuminate the tunnel. They were going in the direction the rest of the cars had gone.
I turned around as the flashlight gleamed against the subway car, and the others did the same. The Old Woman gasped as chunks of pipe and cement crushed the steel train like an aluminum can.
The Climber and Complainer leading the way, we turned towards the dark tunnel ahead. Just moments ago, we were deciding our next move.
Fate had decided for us.
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