Chapter 19: Deeper into the Darkness

When Jim got back on the tracks, he looked down the tunnel in the direction that the man with the box had been, half expecting to see the remnants of the man and the box scattered across the tracks. He saw nothing. The man with the box had disappeared. Jim knew roughly where the man must have been when the train came so he rushed towards the spot, his one shoe now sloshing as he walked. When he got to the spot, Jim saw another pathway leading right. It was lit but even more sparsely lit than the subway tracks. Here the dim yellow lights were spaced so far apart that at points between each light there was actual darkness. Jim looked down the path but couldn't see far enough to see the man with the box or to see where the path might lead. But this was it; this was the only route that the man with the box could have used to escape. Having already gone this far, Jim decided to keep going.

The New York City Subway system has 842 miles of tracks and that only counts the tracks that subway cars run on. In between those tracks, above those tracks and below those tracks, are thousands more miles of tunnels, tunnels that were dug but never used or dug for purposes other than to run a subway through them. Jim was in one of those tunnels. Though Jim couldn't see it, he could feel that the path he was on was tilting downwards. He was descending further down beneath the surface of the earth as he walked. He sped up his pace to try to catch up with the man with the box. Jim was sure that he was still on the man's trail. As the tunnel snaked downwards, Jim could swear that he caught glimpses of the man's shadow as the man turned corners in front of him. The shadows in the tunnel were long. At times, Jim eve thought that he could hear the man's feet shuffling as he walked but no matter how fast Jim went, the man seemed to stay the same distance ahead of him. Jim only seemed to get closer to the man whenever he approached a fork in the path. Whenever he approached such a fork, Jim got close enough to the man with the box to see which tunnel the man's shadow had gone down. Then the man with the box would disappear again.

Jim lost track of time. He had no idea how long he'd been walking in the tunnels. He looked at his watch and it was almost six o'clock. There was no time in the tunnels. He tried to remember how long he had been at Madam Huldah's. He guessed that he'd left Madam Huldah's around four o'clock and that it took them almost half an hour to get to the subway entrance. That meant he'd been traveling in the tunnels for almost an hour and a half already. He had no idea how far he'd come but, at the pace he was walking, he guessed that he'd walked at least six miles already. Worse, he had no idea how many turns he'd taken and he had no idea how to get back out.

Jim started to feel the walls closing in on him. The light seemed to be dimming with each step. The rats no longer scurried away from him as he moved forward. Instead, they simply eyed him suspiciously. He was in their territory now. These rats weren't afraid. Their eyes were larger than the rats at the surface, as if they'd adapted to the darkness. They ranged in size; some approaching the size of medium sized dogs. Jim suddenly felt like maybe this whole thing was a horrible idea. 

Feeling panic settling in on him, Jim yelled for the man with the box, "Hey!" There was no response. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again, "Hey!" but this time the only response was the sound of his own voice multiplying in layers as it echoed through the tunnels around him.

Jim's heart began to race. His breathing became short. For an hour and a half at least, he'd been descending farther and farther into this strange, dark world. The tunnels seemed endless, ever snaking, ever turning. Jim no longer wanted to be alone. He suddenly needed to catch up to the man with the box. He tried to catch his breath, but he found it difficult. He noticed now for the first time that the air in the tunnels was thinner than the air on the surface. It contained less oxygen. Jim fought for a deep breath and began to run. He ran toward the shadow of the man with the box, toward the shadow that had been taunting him. He only made it seven steps. He made it seven steps before the lights went out.

There was nothing but darkness.

Jim had never been in darkness so complete in his entire life. The darkness stopped him in his tracks, like it was clutching him. He lost all sense of direction. He felt like he'd fallen, tumbling into an abyss of nothingness. He was afraid that no matter what direction he moved in, he'd either hit a wall or fall of the edge off the world. So he simply stood there, hoping that his eyes might adjust to the blackness but fearing that it was too dark for that. He placed his hand about two feet in front of his face, his fingers splayed open. Slowly, he brought his hand closer and closer to his face. He couldn't even make out the outline of a finger until his palm was already touching the front of his nose. Until he could actually feel his hand on his nose, it was like his hands didn't exist, like he didn't exist, not physically anyway. Jim tried to assess his situation. He was miles below the earth, trapped in darkness. It took him an hour and half to get to where he stood and that was with light. In the dark, he knew he had little chance of ever finding his way back out of those tunnels. 

"Help!" Jim shouted, hoping that the man with the box would show pity on him. He was certain that the man with the box wasn't too far ahead of him. He was sure that the man could hear him. "Help me!" The sound came from deep in Jim's throat, a loud, gurgling shout on the verge of panic. Jim listened for a response. At first, the only response was the return of his own voice. "Help me," it echoed around him. He could hear the echoing of his voice from what must have been miles away in all different directions. 

Jim listened for the shuffling of the man with the box's feet. Maybe, Jim thought, if I can hear him, I can follow the sound. Instead, Jim heard different sounds, strange sounds, sounds that he could not explain. They were coming from far away, but after a few moments he could hear them echoing in response to his yell. They were the sounds of wild animals. At first, it was just a howling, a long slow wail, like that of a wolf or coyote. Jim wondered if there were feral dogs in the tunnels. He worried about what they might eat or what they might like to eat if given the chance. But then he heard more noises, even stranger noises than the howling. Most of the noises were too muffled and too far away to place. Jim could only make out strange cooing and grunting, all coming from the same general direction. Jim wondered if the darkness was playing tricks on his brain but the sounds seemed so real. He listened. H heard a great roaring sound and then, strangest of all, Jim was almost certain that he heard the mournful bale of an elephant. Then silence. "Raaaaaahhhhhh!" Jim yelled again, with all the strength he could muster. Again, the muffled animal noises echoed back at him in response. "What the hell is going on?" Jim whispered to himself. When a voice responded to Jim's question, Jim's heart nearly stopped.