S1W3: “That Sinking Feeling”

© 2012 Phylicia Joannis

“We’re sinking!”

Several passengers screamed in panic as they grabbed the bars, furiously climbing to the top. The congressman behind me shook his head.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I think it’s a sinkhole.”

The car shifted down in reply. Several people fell as the unstable car began to groan and shake. The air felt hot and stuffy around me. So many people were shouting and screaming. I looked down helplessly as they tried, and failed, to climb to the top. Each time someone managed to climb to the middle, the car would shift down again.

“Get out of my way, old lady!” A man screeched in anger as he pushed an elderly woman down from her perch at the bars in the middle of the car. She quickly grabbed hold of the bars she was sitting on, sobbing softly as her feet searched for a resting spot on the bars beneath her.

“What is he doing?” I cried out. I watched him as he bullied his way towards the top. He was fit, in his thirties I guessed, and was wearing a black suit with a white shirt. His black hair was slicked back and shiny. He looked confident and strong as he climbed the bars, swinging his legs back and forth like a monkey, or an acrobat.

Or a show off.

“The idiot’s going to make the car flip,” the congressman said angrily. I waited in apprehension as the congressman called out to the spry climber.

“Stop swinging around!” he shouted. “You’re going to make the car-”

His warning was cut off by the sudden jerk forward of the subway car. A few more anxious passengers took their cue from the circus act and began swinging their way to the top. They even mimicked his violent removal of human obstacles.

“Somebody help me!” The young woman shouted out from the bottom. The water and muck was still coming in, and the poor man with a broken leg couldn’t move.

“We need to get down there,” the congressman stated simply.

I shook my head.

“It’s not safe up here,” the congressman tried to explain, “and they need help.”

“No, I can’t,” I stammered. “It’s too hard. I mean, we’re already at the top, that’s the safest place to be, right?”

The car shifted to the left, forcing the Climber and his followers to stop moving.

“If they keep climbing up that way the car is going to flip,” the congressman pointed to the men who had resumed their trek to the top. “When that happens, this is the last place you want to be.”

“How will we get down?” I cried. “It’s too far!”

“We’ll slide down on the floor. Now, come on!”

I shook my head furiously. “What if the car shifts while we’re sliding down?”

The congressman sighed. “Miss, we don’t have time for ‘what if’s’ and those people down there need our help. Are you coming or not?”

I took a long look below and shivered. The subway car had three doors and several yards of space between them. How would I ever make it to the bottom?

My eyes caught the feeble old lady who’d been hurled from her safety by the Climber. She was slowly making her way down. When she reached the bottom, she immediately grabbed the young man by the arm, placing it over her shoulder, and helped the young woman pull him out of the muck. They carefully placed him on top of the bars near the door.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded my head to the congressman.

“I’ll go,” I stated.

His mouth twitched in approval and he guided me down the subway floor.

“Put your feet out in front to control your speed.”

I nodded and we slid down slowly. When we reached the middle door, I allowed myself to breathe. The Climber was making his way up after a short fall. He saw us sliding down and laughed.

“Watch this old man!” the Climber twisted his body around the bar and kicked his legs up around the next. Then he pushed himself up and did the same to the next bar.

His next kick landed on the top of the congressman’s head. The congressman grimaced, and I could tell by the force of the impact that he was hurting.

The Climber laughed and continued upwards.

“Are you okay?” I asked the congressman.

“Just keep moving,” he replied.

We’d barely shifted a few inches before the subway car whined again. It moved down.

Then it moved forward.

“Oh no,” the congressman whispered. “Grab something, quickly!” he shouted to me.

I immediately obeyed and grabbed for the bar in the middle of the floor. The car pitched forward and I missed it. I felt myself falling, head first, towards the bottom. The congressman grabbed my foot, and I screamed as the subway train came crashing down. I could hear the climbers at the top screaming as their bodies collided with the ceiling of the car.

One of them fell.

I felt the air move as his body dropped past me, heard his gut-wrenching screams as he struck one bar after another. I watched him thrash about during his descent. I closed my eyes, refusing to see where he landed, fearing I would be next.

I could hear the congressman struggling to keep his grip on my foot. My heel moved an inch out of my shoe, and I yelped as the rest of my foot followed.