Thom and I got into his car in record time; circus clowns couldn't have done it faster. Thom tore out of the parking lot and down a side street. We didn't really know where we were going, we just knew we had to go, get away. Get somewhere that wasn't here. The traffic congestion seemed to be entered on the main roads, and we managed to get through a few blocks before hitting a jam. We sat in the car virtually helpless, left to observe the chaos through the windshield. In the matter of minutes since we left the cinema, the actions of the crowds seemed to have hit a fevered pitch. People were now frantic, scrambling. And now there was violence. It was hard to focus on any one particular person or group of people, but people were fighting, crying, running. Objects were being thrown and windows were being shattered. And the screams. They were much more frequent now, and closer. Much more terrifying. I turned to Thom, stupefied.
"What the hell do we do now? We're not getting anywhere by car." Thom looked distant, pale.
"I don't know. I don't know. I can't just leave the car. Can I just leave it? What the fuck?"
I didn't have an answer for him. Do you just leave your car in a situation like this? What exactly is a situation like this? I made a suggestion.
"I think we have to leave it. For now. We can come back for it. Just lock it up, but for now I think we have to try to get to Union Station. If this is some sort of rioting or terrorist attack, they might be trying to shuttle people out of the city. We can try the subway; maybe it's not as bad down there yet."
Thom managed a shaky nod. I yanked on his sleeve to get him going and he pulled the keys out of the ignition. We both got out and Thom pressed the button on his keychain, locking the doors. We could see the subway stop from where we stood, about a block away. We started to run in a straight line towards the stairs, trying our best to avoid any physical or eye contact with anyone. We ran at a steady pace through a sea of rushing bodies. People were slammed down to the ground in front of us, assaulted and attacked with bats, metal signposts, fists, and feet. And teeth. That was the most disorienting thing to see. People biting people. It just didn't seem rational. Not that any of this was rational; people fight, people hit each other. But bite? Thom took a punch to the side of the head and a whack on the arm with a briefcase. I had a person snap at my face with his mouth, but he was promptly tackled by some other raving lunatic before he made any contact with me. I was shoved to the pavement once as well, but I managed to recover and keep up with Thom.
We got to the subway stop and headed down the stairs. It was crowded and crazy, but not as bad as at street level. We got to the bottom of the stairs fast, taking them three at a time, almost leaping them like hurdles. The familiar Sesame Street jingle of the subway car door chime was ringing as our feet hit the tiles, and we saw a car packed full about to leave. We forced ourselves through the doors and into the packed car just as the doors closed behind us. The people we slammed against seemed annoyed, but all things considered, their annoyance was a pleasant change from the other behavior we had been witnessing. As a matter of fact, it was almost jovial in comparison. The train car jostled and jolted then began to move down the track and into the tunnel. People started to calm for a moment and we unanimously let out a sigh of relief. I looked at Thom and he didn't look well. He looked like he was about to throw up, which wouldn't be a good thing to do at this stage of our exodus.
"It's okay. We'll be all right. We'll get to Union and get on a train. We'll get home . . . oh, Christ! Diane. Shit. I haven't even tried to call Diane yet."
I fumbled through my pockets for my phone, finding it where I left it in the small front pocket of my jeans. I flipped it open and looked for the bars, hoping I would see a lot of them, but there were none. Of course not; I was underground, stupid. I hit the directory and quickly flipped down to 'home' and hit call. Maybe there was a slim chance in hell, this new hell that I was in now, that it would work. After all, the subway train seemed to be skipping all the stops on its way to Union, which was a good thing. I thought I heard a ring from the phone under the clacking sound of the train, but I was wrong, there was only silence. I flipped the phone shut and closed my eyes. As soon as I got topside, I would call Diane. Why did I only think of that then? I was about to put the phone back in my pocket when a deep, thunderous snarl barked in my ear from behind me. I was physically startled and the phone flew up and hit the handrail above my head, deflecting somewhere into the crowd. Shit.
