They hurried down the steps of the City Hall station and pushed through the turnstiles. The platform was deserted.
“Gee. Like a library in here. Hello!” Evie called, letting her voice echo down the tracks.
“Can it, Evil!” Theta snapped. “If those… things… are down here, you really want ’em sniffing after us?”
Evie bowed her head, cowed. “I just like how my voice sounds.”
Theta rolled her eyes. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“This way,” Memphis whispered, and they followed him to the end of the platform, peering over the railing to the tracks below.
Theta stared down at the drop. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Memphis held her hand. “I’ll help you, Princess. Just stick with me.”
“Poet, I’m gonna stick so close to you you’ll think you gained a hundred and two pounds.”
Memphis climbed over and jumped down first. He caught Theta, enjoying the weight of her in his arms. “Piece of cake,” he said, smiling. “Come on down, Evie.”
Evie attempted to clear the railing, but her heel caught. She took a flying leap, nearly flattening Memphis as she tumbled. “Careful, there,” he said, catching her.
“Which way?” Sam asked, jumping down and wiping his hands on his trousers.
“Ling said Beach’s pneumatic train station was near Broadway and Warren Streets, so that way.” Memphis pointed straight ahead to the long curve of tunnel, lit only by a series of work lights high on the walls. It was dark and filthy and dangerous—no ledge, just wall and track. If a train were to come now, they’d be trapped. The third rail thrummed with electricity they could feel in the air and on the backs of their teeth.
“Watch out for that. That’s the one with all the juice,” Sam warned.
“It’s freezing down here,” Evie grumbled, the edges of her words still a bit messy. The coffee and the bitter cold had managed to take her from very drunk to less drunk with shades of irritable and belligerent.
“You’ll live,” Sam said. “Unless those hungry wraiths get us, in which case you won’t, but you also won’t have to worry about being cold anymore. So all in all, it’s a grand night in Manhattan. Hip, hip, hooray.”
“You’re in a very funny mood,” Evie said.
“I’m a funny guy,” Sam grumbled and kept his flashlight trained on the path ahead. “Just keep walking.”
Memphis lifted his eyes, taking in the grimy grandeur of the underground. “It’s sort of beautiful, though, isn’t it? Like a city below the city.”
“If you say so, Poet. How much farther?” Theta asked, keeping her eyes on the edge of the ties; she didn’t want her shoes getting caught between them.
Memphis bounced his flashlight beam across the concrete archways. “If Ling’s right about the location of Beach’s station, maybe a hundred feet?”
A rat scuttled quickly along the tracks, making Theta gasp. Memphis put his arm around her. “It’s more scared of us than we are of it.”
“It must be pretty scared, then,” Theta said.
The passageway took on water as they walked. It smelled of sulfur and rot. They covered their noses, breathing through their mouths.
“Sam,” Evie said a moment later, “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“How drunk are you?”
“No. I mean… I mean ’bout any of this. About the dead and John Hobbes. Will. Rotke. Those cards we found. Project Buffalo,” she said, the last word tripping off her booze-thickened tongue. “I need to tell you something, Sam. It’s about tonight and what happened at the show.”
Sam gestured to the dark underground, his flashlight beam bouncing off the metal and earth. “You want to have this conversation now? Here?”
“Shhh, listen. This fella brought a comb for me to read. Sam, it was James’s comb,” Evie said, keeping one hand on his back to steady herself.
“What are you talking about?”
“The comb. He said it belonged to his pal, but he was lying. That comb belonged to my brother. When I was under? I saw James.”