Ambient (21 page)

In public buildings public space was yielded to the use of public organizations; here, the Army and the Health Service were
boothed. Recruitment posters plastered the Army's, crying for
Manhattan's youth-those sans connections-to register and so
be drafted: It's Fun. It's Easy. It's Duty. It's Law. Above each
health booth's counter was a reproduction of a painting of E, his
eyes shut, begarbed in white, on one knee, touching his left hand
to his brow as if he had reached the chorus and forgotten the
words. In his right hand he held an embryo: A NEW LIFE MAY
BE IN YOUR HANDS, the sign above read, STOP BABY
KILLINGS. On the counter of each health booth, below the
painting, were jars. Within the jars, floating as if on summer
breezes, were aging fetuses, each thrusting tiny fingers toward
the guilty. Capital offense or not, the law had never been so effective as wished; in private hands, where, as the government
decreed, problems were best solved, there were always wire
hangers and chemical solutions. The Army and health booths went
well together: one planted, one harvested.

"Shameless-"

At the end of the hallway was a sign identifying the subway
entrance. A familiar sound hissed behind us. The missile launched
misfired, striking the health booth; it flared, misting pink. A hotel
guard tossed a superstar, hitting a stroller close by in the face,
slicing dead through.

"Subway," I said, reaching the stairs.

"Is it safe?" The railing broke away as we grasped it; we slid
down the stairs. Recovering, we leapt the piles of trash lying
underfoot, splashed through puddles of urine, zazzed past the
token booth. The clerk shouted at us from behind his lucite shield;
we vaulted the turnstiles. Dashing to the platform, we saw a train
at the wait and jumped aboard as the doors clanked shut. One of
our pursuers, closing in, jumped after; he screamed like an angel
as he fell beneath the wheels. We made our way to the last car,
knowing that it would be the emptiest.

"Now where?"

"We're on a downbound train," I said, "So-" The train
whipped along at five or six miles an hour.

"What's the next stop?"

"Fourteenth, I think."

"Where we started," she sighed.

"We can relax for a few minutes," I said.

We were not alone in the car. There was a pair of midmen,
forced for whatever reason to rough it; a gent in a green shirt who
tugged at his ears in sequence, repeatedly-they bled; a nondescript, asleep on the floor, whom some had used as a lav; several
homebodies, their savings resting in bags between their feet. One
fellow, not poorly dressed, sat down the way, calmly throwing
up over his pants and shoes. Most of the windows in the car were
broken out, only half the lights worked; we kept to the far end of
the car, away from the others.

"Better than the fucking bus," Avalon said.

The door to the next car slid open and six young women-four
black, two white-clad in ripped fatigues entered; each wore a
black fez. They lugged lengths of chain; one shouldered a long
spiked pole, at the end of which was impaled a dead rat.

"They don't look like they're up to good, Shamey," Avalon
said, "And this fuckin' train is just crawling. "

"Ignore them," I said patting her arm. "I'm sure they beat
the fare like everyone else."

The leader-lanky, and wearing aubergine shades-stopped near
the puking gent. For a moment she eyed him, and then she pulled
out her pick and jabbed out his eyes. He stopped throwing up; as
he lay on the floor, they freely gave him the boot.

"If need be," I murmured, "can you take the two small ones?"

" Easy."

Shades conferred with her companions; I saw her jacket's colors. They belonged to one of the more problematic gangs, the
Whispers of Love.

"Yo," she said, nodding toward us. She smiled; several of her
front teeth had been withdrawn.

"Easy action here, sis," said another.

"Surprise them," I whispered from my mouth's corner. "Always works."

They sauntered over, dragging their chains behind them. The
little ones appeared to be twins. An exceptionally ugly one tailed;
at closer viz I could tell that half of her nose had been bitten off.
The one toting the rat lay down her stick as she neared. The one
bringing up the rear was sumo-size, carrying an iron pipe. They
clustered around us, laughing. The rest of the car emptied.

"Honey, you come down here just to see us?" Shades asked
Avalon, tightening her grip on her chain.

"Bitch, what'chu doin' with Percy here?" asked Ugly.

"He look like what the rat drug in," added one of the twins.

"How come you so quiet?" Shades asked. "Boyfriend here
wantin' you to behave yourself 'round us nasty girls?"

"Don't fuck yourself over him, babe, you want him, you can
have him-"

Ratgirl lit a match and flicked it on me. I brushed it away and
smiled.

"Too cool for that, motherfuck?" she said, flicking another at
me, which I also brushed away. Ugly reached down, pulling
Avalon up by the front of her sweater.

"Let's fuck, bitch. Girl to girl."

Avalon twisted away, turning around as she did. Ugly seized
her arms and jerked them behind her back, bending her over until
the wall of the car. They noticed the split in her pants and laughed
all the louder.

"They was ready, girl-"

"Fuck, yeah, if we hadn't showed they'd be on the floor now."

"Got a sweet ass," said Ugly, ripping Avalon's pants further
open and digging in. "Nice, soft pussy-"

Shades pulled a long knife out of her coat. "Be hard for him
to fuck if he ain't got nothin' to fuck with," she said, pointing it
toward my groin. "What'chu say to that? Huh?" I said nothing;
she brought the blade up to my cheek.

"Honey, you know what this boy wants?" said Ratgirl, extracting a length of broomstick from beneath her jacket, slapping
it hard against her hand. "He wants some fuckin' of his own."

"Yeah."

"He look like a girl with them big pink lips."

"Let's fuck him first, then."

"Take down those pants, bro, that what you want?" asked
Shades. "Huh?"

I said nothing; she pushed her face closer to mine.

"I said, what do you want?" She dipped the blade into my
cheek.

"Your soul," I said, flipping out my chuks. By bringing them
up at the right angle I hit her nose at the right spot. She moaned
and hit the floor twitching. Avalon pressed her head against the
wall for balance and, kicking back with both boots, caught Ugly
in the jewels. She fell back, choking; continued to choke until
Avalon kicked her in the throat. We turned and looked at the
others.

"Goddamn! "

Taking my chuks, I wrapped the chain around Ratgirl's neck;
holding fast to the lengths of wood, I twisted them fast as if
knotting a tourniquet. As I pulled harder the blood vessels in her face burst beneath her skin as if in time lapse. Avalon reached
out; grasping the twins by their collars, she flung them apart and
then slammed their heads together as if slapping erasers. There
was a sharp crack; she dropped them. That left the big one. She
hadn't yet joined in, nor had she run.

"What're you waiting for?" I asked her, dropping Ratgirl.

"The undertaker, man," she said, smashing me across the head
with the pipe she carried. "Gonna haul your ass away."

As I fell over I realized that she'd be a challenge. I felt as if
my brains were rushing out; my hair seemed thick with blood.
Avalon hopped up, dropkicking her in the chest. She staggered
but didn't fall; swinging out with her forearm, she knocked Avalon halfway down the car. Blood dripped into my eyes; it was
almost impossible to see. When I lose control I tend to lose as
well my sense of pain; I was glad, this time. Jumping blindly
onto the seat, I ran down to where Avalon had landed. The big
one stayed at the opposite end of the car for a second and then
barreled toward us. Avalon sprang up, clipping her in the knees.
She fell forward, nearly crushing Avalon. The car rattled as she
struck the floor; before she had a chance to rise, I grabbed one of
the floor-to-ceiling poles, swung once around and heeled her in
the jaw. She fell over to one side, hitting her head on the window
frame. Avalon picked up the woman's feet and attempted to push
her through the window before she could reawaken.

"Gimme a hand," she said, "She's big as a house."

"I don't think she'll be coming around soon," I said. She
groaned; I grabbed her legs and started shoving.

"You're hurt," said Avalon.

"Not much," I said, barely able to see or stand. "Push."

As the train at last began speeding, we got her up and over. As
she started sliding out she struck one of the tunnel columns and
was torn from our hands. Avalon and I fell to the floor as the
train crashed to a halt. For what seemed a blessedly long time we
lay there. Then Avalon sat up, holding her arm.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We must have derailed," I said, dragging myself to my feet.
The car was tilted several degrees to the right. "We could be
stuck for hours. Come on. Out the back."

Forcing open the rear door, we stepped down onto the tracks.
One of the tunnel lights illuminated she upon whom the train had
derailed. We moved uptown once more, keeping to the rails when
possible; the catwalk on the left was crumbling away, and where
the ties were visible above the still pools of water they were rotten and worn. The working tunnel lights and the soft glow from
the old station ahead guided our path as we moved along.

"What station's that?" she asked.

"I think it's Twenty-third." On the walls of the tunnel were
the names of the vanquished, scrawled and etched in days long
past.

"It'll be closed, won't it?"

"Yeah. We can sit down. Rest." Subway entrances were open
only at zone borders, so that closer control might be kept. In a
short silent time we reached the station and lifted ourselves onto
the platform-well, nearly; I was so sore that Avalon had to help
me up. It was difficult to see through the dim yellow light even
after our eyes adjusted. The station walls were dabbed with a
forty years' palimpsest, name over name over name. The stairs
once leading to the street were blocked off by concrete slabs.

"Let me see your head."

When she touched my scalp I thought for a moment that I'd
pass out.

"That hurt?" she asked, pulling back my hair. "Shit."

"It does," I said. "What is it?"

"There's a gash about six inches long. No wonder it hurts."

"Can you see the bone?"

"No. It needs stitches."

"The blood's clotting?"

"Mostly. "

"It'll be all right, then. I keep gauze in my right pocket. Get
it.

She did, pressing it down onto my wound. With effort I remained conscious. She placed more gauze onto my head and then
wrapped a bandage around it. She pulled off Enid's bright jacket
and took off her sweater. Kneeling before me, she wrapped the
sweater around my head and tied the arms together, knotting them
so that it wouldn't slip. She giggled, finishing.

"What is it?"

"You look awfully silly," she laughed. "That'll help, maybe.
It's not bleeding as much."

"I've had worse."

"I'm sure," she said, sitting beside me. Her nipples rose sharp
in the cool air.

"Put your jacket on," I said. "You'll catch cold."

"I'd rather sit on it," she said, "long as we're sitting." She
leaned forward, took one of my hands and placed it on her breast.
"That'll do."

We sat on the dirty concrete, retrieving our breath. Another
train wouldn't be by for an hour, if at all-they usually stopped
sooner on weekends, I gathered. In the tunnels resounded no sounds
but those of our breathing, and of the drip of water.

"Have I been getting more like them?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Like the Drydens. Do you think I've been starting to get more
like them?"

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know. It worried me."

"You might be," she said. "I guess anyone would if they had
the chance."

She put her arms around my waist. I kissed her; we kissed for
what seemed an endless time, probably a few seconds.

"What are we going to do tonight, Shamey?"

"I think Enid can help us."

"Won't they still have the apartment tabbed?"

"She won't be there," I said, "We'll have to meet her."

"Where? If we go back up-"

"We won't be going back onto the street. Not yet. We'll be
staying in the subway."

"Down here?"

"She'll be about forty blocks down and three blocks over,
roughly."

"What'll she be doing down there?"

"Going to church," I said.

Avalon looked at me, shook her head, and shrugged. She lay
down, gently tugging me along with her, resting me between her
legs.

"Just lie here," she said. "Rest."

"All right. It shouldn't take us that long to get down there."

She shushed me. "Safe now," she said, stroking my face.
"Safely sound."

For a few minutes, at least, I rested; my pain whelmed over.
Care's nurse kissed shut my eyes. Freedom rang.