The Artful (Shadows of the City) (24 page)

March 26, 2025 - Brooklyn

t was simple, or so it seemed. After we filled our bags with water, stale granola bars, one of those flashlights you have to shake a ridiculous amount of times to power up, and a gun, I snuck out of Red’s tent and we set out. Gia thought it best to cross the Brooklyn Bridge at night so that we could take advantage of darkness. She spent most of our journey through the city explaining what it was like in Brooklyn.

The rumors we all knew, the dreadful stories meant to keep children up at night, were wildly exaggerated. But key elements were not, and it was these that made our mission very dangerous. There were cannibals and there were slavers, this much was true. Brooklyn was highly advanced and a force to be reckoned with under Chrysler’s leadership. The layout was genius. The Brooklyn Bridge was under constant surveillance. However, the cleverness of Chrysler’s fortifications lay in the cannibals and slavers themselves. They were given free rein over the outside perimeters; cannibals held the outermost rim of the borough, followed by the slavers. Of course, they were at constant war with each other, but this wasn’t important. They served one purpose, and they served it well. They scared the hell out of us and kept everyone out. As far as any of us knew, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge meant being trapped in savage lands. Little did the outside world know, a city thrived at the center of Brooklyn’s carnivorous surroundings. People worked together in equality, with no segregation of upper and lower class. There were only people as a whole and they served under a monarch, Lord Chrysler. Outside of the dangers, it sounded like a great city, one that rivaled the Manhattan streets where I grew up, forced to live a fragile existence underground, while the tower babies enjoyed every bit of their lives. Gia informed me that living under the oppressive hand of a megalomaniac was nothing to envy.

The bridge was imposing under the pale moonlight, reaching out over the murky water into a foreign land. I felt dwarfed looking at it. All my life I had been running up and down the streets of Manhattan, never once setting foot outside its borders, and now I stood at the cusp of a new world. It made everything I knew feel so minimal, and knowing Gia came from this other world was no different than meeting an alien being from another planet. The night seemed to devour the bridge midway; it was as if we were stepping into a dark void. Spires reached up high into the sky, and suspension cables ran up and down the length.

“Let me guess,” I said, pointing up at the high encampment. “A sniper’s nest?”

“Not only that. A number of cars hold hidden guards.” She gestured to the dead vehicles lined up on either side, some parked and abandoned, others shoved off the road, creating a clear space for those who worked closely with Chrysler to travel between boroughs in their fancy cars. “Keep your eyes peeled, and stay close.”

“How will we get across?” I felt the urge to turn and run.

“The trick is confidence; you have to act like you belong. The guards are just precaution, but everyone knows no sensible person would try to enter Brooklyn on foot and face the Skinlickers.” She stood a bit straighter. She brushed the hair out of her face and walked into the hungry mouth of the bridge.

It took great effort to will my feet into motion. “Are you kidding me? They’ll blow our heads off!”

“Just stay calm and follow closely behind. Hopefully, I get this right.”

“You hope?” My heart clearly didn’t agree with her methods, but I had no choice.

An eerie silence surrounded us as we walked; Still, I could hear the slow swish of water way below. A cold breeze washed over us occasionally, bringing with it the toxic smell of the river. Years and years of pollution had left this area quite toxic. As we drew closer and closer to the spire, I searched for a quick means of escape. Surely I could seek cover under or near a car, but even those proved a danger. We were truly out in the open, vulnerable sitting ducks. It didn’t help matters that Gia refused to speak, and every time I attempted to spark conversation she hurriedly shushed me, with a finger to her lips. Were we being spied on? I wanted to ask, but decided I’d had enough of her reprimands. Instead, I followed, with my nerves on high alert. Before I had time to convince myself it was best to dive into the river below, she stopped, holding up her hand, calling for my attention.

“They are watching,” she whispered, pointing up at the highest spire.

“What do we do?”

Without answering, she reached into her backpack and pulled out the small flashlight she borrowed from Red. She held it above her head, aiming it at an opening. She flashed a sequence of flashes; on, off, on, on, off, on, on, on, off, on. After we waited for what seemed like hours, a small light flashed the same sequence back at us from the spire top. It must have been a code only known to people from Brooklyn, a way to get in and out with no trouble.

“So what was all that stuff you said about walking like we belonged?” I asked.

“If they didn’t think we belonged, they would have killed us eight cars ago. We would have never had the opportunity to flash in.” Her smile, beautiful as it was, wasn’t the least bit reassuring.

“Oh,” I sighed, looking back from where we came. “Please tell me the hard part is over.”

“Well, that was actually the easiest part.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that.”

Walking off the bridge was like leaving behind everything I knew. We were greeted by scattered car wrecks and cans filled with burning garbage at every other street corner. As far into the distance as I could see, little specks of fire crackled. Bodies of bone and tattered flesh hung from street lights; hungry vultures pecked at dwindling meat as others circled in the night. The rank smell of filth and rot surrounded us; I gagged as wave after wave of death attacked my senses.
I died on that bridge and walked straight into hell
was the only sensible thing I could think.

“Takes some getting used to.” Gia rubbed at my arm. “Most of this is for show, to scare outsiders away. But don’t get it twisted; the sick bastards are out there. We have to move, so take it all in, and suck it up. We can’t stand around looking appetizing.”

“Are we going underground?” I wanted to get into the tunnels as quickly as possible if this was all topside had to offer.

“Sorry, kiddo, underground is ten times worse; all civilized people live within the city, topside. The Skinlickers own the underground; they only come up looking for prey.”

“Is that what you call the cannibals?”

“Yeah we call them Skinlickers, Cannibals, Zombies―which they aren’t, they are completely alive―and generally ‘oh, crap, run!’ Take your pick; let’s just try to avoid them.” She shrugged with a smile; I barely noticed it with the headless body swaying back and forth behind her.

Our roles were reversed. The first day Dodger and I took her into the tunnels of Manhattan, she was like a lost child, confused and scared, and that was how I felt now. She hung close to our shadows, trusting us to lead her through a world not her own. Now she had a confident air about her, and she scanned the area with a knowing gleam in her eyes. I helplessly followed, putting all the faith I had into her. The mutilated bodies didn’t seem to bother her. She walked past them without a second thought. I, on the other hand, stared in sick fascination as we ventured closer and closer to each body marking the street corners. The buildings were in truth no different than those of Manhattan, and yet they had a dark mystique about them. I couldn’t help but feel there was a haunting life. They all seemed to mesh into one hungry dark being, eager to devour us as we moved deeper into the city. I shivered as a warm breeze ran across my goose-bumped skin.

“Something about them.” I stared hypnotized at the empty windows and broken doors. “I don’t know, these buildings don’t seem right, they seem”―a shiver ran through my body as I grasped for words to explain ―“not right.”

“Yeah, my father used to joke that all these buildings were haunted. Skinlickers did horrible things to people in most of these buildings. The men they would torture for a laugh. The women, well, I don’t have to tell you what they’d do to them. But people weren’t just eaten; they were massacred. All that suffering stayed behind… lingering, wanting to inflict the same kind of pain that was done to them.”

“That’s not possible. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

“Of course not. Think about it, when you step into a cemetery, you can’t help but feel a sense of loss and sadness. If you fill an area or something with enough of a certain emotion, it kind of takes on that quality.”

“I don’t know, I think with a cemetery, it’s more of what it represents which makes people feel sad.”

“Fine.” She stopped and looked deeply into my eyes, and I saw a sadness reflected. “And all of this? It represents the pure savagery of man.”

We didn’t speak anymore for a time, just walked in silence. Every other block we stumbled upon some sort of savagery. Bloodstained walls or half-eaten body parts. There was a moment I thought I would get used to it. If I saw enough of it, it wouldn’t bother me. I had to man up, after all. Here I was, acting like a child in the care of his babysitter. This wasn’t how I wanted our trip to go; I was sick of being a sidekick. I had to step up. So I straightened, shoulders out firm and head held high and sped up, trying to match Gia’s pace.

Until we turned a corner and all my resolve was thrown out the window. We ran into two bare-chested men in tattered jeans. One had a shaven head, rings stretched his earlobes, big enough for a finger to fit through,, and a number of piercings along his lips, tattoos sloppily etched into his back and arms. The other was a bit smaller. He wore tight jeans and combat boots. His hair was a mess of knots and tangles, a thick beard covered most of his face, and he had a number of tattoos as well. They crouched down low, over the remains of a naked woman. Bits and pieces of flesh were gone from her face and neck. Her stomach was a gaping hole of blood and gore as they used their hands to spoon her insides into their mouths. Even though Gia held up her hand in silence, I puked, unable to help myself. They turned toward us, their carnivorous smiles and filed down teeth reminding me of a shark.

Gia turned toward me, her earlier confidence escaping with the color in her skin. “Oh, crap. Run!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me as I let loose the last of my breakfast.

“We got some fresh meat, boys!” The words seemed to chase us down the street. I ventured a look over my shoulder to see them giving chase, laughing and throwing bits of human meat at us.

“Come and get it!” shouted the other. “Dinner time!”

“We’ll feast on the boy for dinner and have the girl for play!” His voice was dry and frightening.

“Then eat her for breakfast.”

“And play with her some more!” They laughed wildly. This was a game to them. We were sport. They didn’t view us as people, only things to be played with and eaten.
We can’t get caught, we can’t get caught.
I would have killed Gia and myself before they caught us. We ran down a street and another, turned corner after corner and couldn’t lose them. They remained on our heels like vicious dogs. Before long, I realized we were just going in circles. Gia was panicked and no longer knew where we were going, I had to act before―

A woman stepped out from around a corner. Her face was heavily pierced. Blonde pigtails fell about her slender shoulders. She wore a school girl outfit. Her skirt was stained with blood, and her legs were covered in scabs. Pigtails wobbled as she tilted her head, flashing a sinister smile filled with shark-like teeth. The baseball bat held loosely at her side glistened with semidry blood. She snarled like a feral beast as we skidded to a halt.

The men that were giving chase were gaining on us, excitement in their eyes. Gia was frozen in place, staring School Girl down, readying for a fight. But I knew better. There was no way we could win; now was the time for flight. I grabbed her arm and pulled her down an alley, and the three joined together to catch us. The alley was barely big enough for us to run side by side, so I led the way, pulling her in tow. Rats scurried out of our way as we jumped over garbage and other dead things. The alley seemed like an endless tunnel. More than once I cursed myself, thinking it would lead to a dead end, trapping us. Gia reached into my bag and pulled out the gun as we were reaching the end of the alley. We ran out into the street, spinning around as she took aim; they were still confined to the alley’s narrow passage. It would be an easy shot, but something occurred to me.