The Wire Hanger

Chapter Twenty-six

Once night fell and gave us cover, Noah, Obadiah, David, Adah and I slipped into the backyard, following the same path we had used so recently. Adah and I had been chosen to go along because, David said, we were “freaky tiny.” Happy to be getting out of the house, I didn’t ask any questions. I left Esau pouting in the kitchen, telling myself it was not my problem. Nobody had asked him to show up.

David, Obadiah, and Noah all had backpacks stuffed full with equipment – whatever was needed to do whatever Noah was doing, I figured, though there were some sharp and suspicious looking bulges in Obadiah’s. Back through the shed, down the alleys, into the garden and the cellar and through the false shelving unit. That had only been a few days ago and already I was less afraid of the dark. We took a different turning and I knew we were headed further south, past Lower Queen, nearly to the wall that protected the city. I had never been that close to it.

It took almost an hour until Obadiah held up a hand. There was an odor in these tunnels that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, something salty, as though we were underneath the ocean. “There’s an access grate above us,” he said, motioning towards the metal ladder against the side of the tunnel wall. We were wearing the earpieces again and kept his voice low. “David, you first.” Adah followed, then me, then Noah, with Obadiah bringing up the rear. The rungs of the ladder had a layer of rust that came off against my palms. I felt Noah’s hand brush my ankle and sped up my pace. Above me, David had popped open the metal grate that laid overtop the access vent, and reached down a hand to pull me out. Adah was standing around, her hands on her hips, her wide gray eyes taking everything in.

We were standing in what looked like a long winding hallway, except instead of walls there were only metal ribs, curved over us from one side to the other. The metal was broken in places and the fragments lay on the floor, which bore remnants of ancient carpet and something mechanical. There was a thick layer of shattered glass over everything. The smell I’d noticed in the tunnels was stronger now, and I wrinkled my nose.

“The leviathan,” said Adah, her face turned upwards. “The condescension of man, to think he could take the leviathan from the deep.”

“It wasn’t a leviathan,” David grumbled, taking Obadiah’s pack for him as he hoisted himself through the hole in the ground. “Just a bunch of smelly sharks.”

“Sharks,” I repeated, dumbfounded.

David spread his arms wide in a mock grand gesture. “Welcome to the aquarium, kiddos. Enjoy the class trip.”

That’s what the smell was, I realized – fish. Years and years of fish. “What happened to it?”

“You heard about the zoo, yeah?” asked Obadiah, shouldering his backpack. “Same kind of thing.” We started walking down the hallways, our footsteps echoing strangely. Above us I could see the sky, inky blue with a few scattered stars. The moon was just a sliver.

“But they couldn’t just run off like the zoo animals,” I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach. My foot crunched down on something. Hoping it was only glass, I couldn’t help but look. A spread of what looked like a delicate ribcage lay fanned out before me, its spine twisted unnaturally, the gruesome jaws agape.

“Don’t look,” said Noah, too late.

“If it helps,” said David cheerfully, “there’s a rumour that some of them made it to the lake.”

“What lake?”

“Beyond the wall. Before it dried up.”

“What, they just hopped the fence?” said Noah, scoffing. “Besides, they were probably saltwater fish.”

“Underground rivers, my friend,” said David. The decaying aquarium seemed to have put him in a good mood. “They run all over, under the city. Paved over a century ago. But that’s the thing, you know. Water will out. Rivers will rise.” The crescent moon slipped out from behind a cloud and lit his face, giving him a nearly maniacal gleam.

From what was once the aquarium’s entrance, a weathered desk guarding it, we faced a broad stretch of bare concrete. It was about fifty feet from here to the base of the tower, with almost nothing to cover us.

“Any ideas?” muttered Noah.

“Watch the lights,” said Obadiah. Yellow and purple lights flickered up and down the tower in patterns I couldn’t quite decipher. I could just barely make out the movement of the elevators inside, glass on one side for the view of the city.

Noah furrowed his brow. “It’s like a software program,” he said slowly, “with the rotation of the headquarters.”

I craned my head back, but I couldn’t see any movement at the top, where something like a doughnut sat affixed to the tower.

“We think so,” said Obadiah. This didn’t sound like an overwhelming endorsement to me, but Noah nodded. We all gathered as close to the doorway as we dared, Noah’s arm held out to block us. It was warm against my ribcage and I hoped he couldn’t feel the thudding of my heart.

Then, “Now,” he hissed, and set off at a dead sprint for the base of the tower. We followed, my short legs managing to keep up relatively well. Only Adah lagged behind, probably due to her heavier skirt.

Noah dug around in his backpack and held up some kind of technological device. He held it flush against the wall of the tower, then looked at it and shook his head. “No good,” he said. “I need to get closer.”

“How much closer can you be?” I asked, exasperated.

He grinned at me and pointed. “Up there.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said. “There’s no way.”

Obadiah sighed. “We thought it might come to this.” He pulled out what looked like a gun from his backpack. “Grappling hooks,” he said to my questioning look. “Noah, you ready?”

“Ahh,” said Noah, flinching away from Obadiah. “I don’t – it’s just, I should probably –“

“Well it can’t be either of us,” said David impatiently. “We’re way too heavy.”

Obadiah turned to Adah and myself with a full-wattage grin. “Ladies. Fancy a trip to the top?”

Adah said, “And in those days they built a tower, and God struck them down mightily for their impertinence.”

“Right,” said Obadiah, and turned to me. “How’re you with heights?”

“No idea,” I said, my voice coming out of me higher than I’d meant it to. “Never so much as climbed a hill. My school is only three stories.” But once glance at Noah proved that as long as I wasn’t pale and sweaty, I was clearly the less afraid one.

This was not at all what I had signed up for.