Bree, Jack, Goldilocks, and Red didn’t even try to persuade him otherwise. They paced around in silence as they tried to brainstorm a possible plan. Their train of thought was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat—someone who wasn’t in their group. They looked up and saw that the homeless man from earlier was standing a few feet away.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “I saw your little scuffle with the fuzz back there. I know they didn’t want to listen to you, but I’d like to help if you’ll let me.”
“Sorry, dude, I’m out of cash,” Conner said.
“This time I’m offering my services free of charge,” the homeless man said. “I know I may not look like much, but I know how to get to your sister.”
“No offense, but I sincerely doubt that,” Conner said. “We need to get inside the public library, and every entrance is being guarded by the US Marines and two man-eating statues!”
A sly smile spread across the homeless man’s face. “You’re wrong,” he said. “They aren’t guarding every entrance.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE CALVIN COOLIDGE EXPRESS
Per General Wilson’s orders, the US Marines began evacuating every building within a ten-block radius of the New York Public Library. Watching the soldiers move from building to building and forcing people out of their homes and businesses made Conner feel like he was watching a scene from an apocalyptic movie. Judging from the looks on the New Yorkers’ faces, everyone knew the situation wasn’t a gas leak—something far worse was happening in Midtown Manhattan.
The homeless man led Conner and his friends covertly from alley to alley, careful not to attract the attention of the Marines. With every step Conner wondered if they were doing the right thing by following him, or if they were putting their trust in a complete lunatic.
“Where are you taking us?” Conner asked.
“Shhhh!” the homeless man said, and placed a finger over his mouth. “If they catch us sneaking around, we’ll never get to your sister.”
“Sorry—where are you taking us?” Conner whispered.
“We’re going to a subway entrance on the corner of Fortieth and Broadway.”
“We’re taking the subway?” Conner asked. “But a train won’t get us inside the library!”
“We don’t need a train where we’re going,” the homeless man said.
The homeless man dashed across the street to hide behind a pile of trash, and the others followed him. They moved from building to building very slowly and only crossed streets when they were certain no Marines were watching. By the time they reached the intersection of Fortieth and Broadway, Midtown Manhattan was practically a ghost town and it was getting dark out. After a quick huddle behind a large delivery truck, the homeless man raced across the intersection to the southwest corner and hurried down the steep steps into the subway station. A moment later, he popped his head up and whistled to the others.
“The station’s empty!” he called to them. “Hurry—while the coast is clear!”
Conner and his friends joined him underground. Their footsteps echoed off the station’s title walls. The homeless man jumped over the turnstile to avoid paying, and the others copied him. Red was the least agile, and her gown got caught in the revolving turnstile. Goldilocks had to slice off a layer of her dress to set her free.
“Now everyone follow me to the end of the platform,” the homeless man said.
“Wait!” Conner said. “We aren’t going any farther until you tell us exactly where we’re headed.”
“Kid, I promise it’ll make sense once we’re there, but until then, you’ll just have to trust me.”
The homeless man reached the end of the long platform and jumped down onto the train tracks.
“He can’t be serious,” Bree said. “We’re not actually going to follow him down there, are we?”
“What choice do we have?” Conner asked.
“Don’t stop now—we’re almost there!” the homeless man said.
Conner, Bree, and Jack jumped off the platform and then offered their hands to help Goldilocks and Hero, but Red took their hands first. The homeless man removed a flashlight from inside his coat and sprinted down the train tunnel.
“You might want to hurry—trains usually run through here every ten minutes,” he warned.
Fearing a speeding train would hit them at any moment, Conner and his friends ran after the homeless man as fast as they could. The farther they went, the darker the tunnel became. Soon the shaky light from the homeless man’s flashlight was all that was keeping them from tripping over the train tracks. Suddenly, the homeless man made a quick left turn and disappeared from sight. When the others caught up with him, they entered a different tunnel they would have never spotted on their own. Unlike the previous one, the new tunnel had no visible cables or train tracks on the ground.
“Welcome to the Calvin Coolidge Express!” the homeless man announced. “Or at least what’s finished of it.”
“The what?” Conner asked.
The homeless man chuckled. “Don’t worry, very few people know it exists,” he said. “In 1928, construction began on a new transit system to take New Yorkers from Staten Island all the way to Central Park. The following year the Great Depression hit and construction came to a halt. Later, the need for steel was so high during World War Two that plans were scrapped altogether. By the time the war ended, the Calvin Coolidge Express was completely forgotten.”
“Whatever it is, it smells awful,” Red said. She took the can of Febreze out of her purse and sprayed the air around them.
“Unfortunately, the tunnels were built right beside the sewers, but you get used to the smell after a while.”
“Why would you bring us to an abandoned subway tunnel?” Conner asked.
“Because one of the many stops planned for the Calvin Coolidge Express was Bryant Park,” the man explained. “The city didn’t want to obstruct the park, so they decided to place the stop in the basement of the New York Public Library.”
Conner’s face lit up so much, he practically glowed in the dark tunnel. He heard the man loud and clear, but it sounded too good to be true.
“So you’re saying we can get to the library from this tunnel?” he asked.
“Like I said before, they aren’t guarding every entrance,” the homeless man reiterated. “See why I didn’t tell you where we were going? You wouldn’t have believed a bum like me unless you saw it with your own eyes.”
Conner was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but the homeless man was right. If he had been just a tiny bit more critical of their guide, they would have been rounded up and sent away like all the other New Yorkers in Midtown Manhattan.
“I just realized we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said. “I’m Conner Bailey, and these are my friends Bree, Red, Jack, Goldie, and their son, Hero. What’s your name?”
“The name’s Rusty—Rusty Bagasarian,” the homeless man said with a quick bow.
“Thank you so much for leading us here, Rusty,” Conner said. “How did you even know this tunnel existed?”
“You learn a lot about a city when you live on its streets,” Rusty said.
“Have you always been poor?” Red asked.