Titanic 2020: Cannibal City

33 Tunnels

Jonas Jones' directions were precise. There was a train station a short distance from the 7-Eleven. They were to follow the underground tracks through half a dozen minor stops to Penn Station, and then continue on to Grand Central. They should wait at the rendezvous point there to see if anyone showed up, and then make their way to the harbour for the prearranged pick-up by the Titanic. He tried to make it sound as if it would really be as straightforward as that, and they nodded as if there was a remote possibility that it might be. But they all knew the truth. They were still walking into the heart of Cannibal City.

Jonas roared off on the newly refilled Kawasaki, bound for a mysterious factory and carrying on his broad shoulders the Titanic's only hope of escaping from New York.

As they watched him go, Jimmy said: 'I do believe that man just stole my bike.'

Ronni was still a little shocked — not only because she'd thought her time was up, but also at discovering that the man who'd put a gun to her head was a friend of Jimmy's.

'What are the chances of that happening, city this size?' she asked.

'Slim,' Jimmy agreed. 'Then again — everything's so quiet, our hike could probably be heard for miles.'

'So others might have heard it.'

They both scanned the surrounding buildings. 'Let's get moving,' said Jimmy.

They hurried towards the station entrance. Though he didn't say anything, Jimmy's mind was racing.

Claire's here in the city.

Jonas had escaped capture by sheer luck. In attempting to outrun his pursuers in the dark he'd stumbled over a caved-in section of the tunnel and had hidden behind the rubble while the cannibals swarmed all around the other passengers and crew. He had then watched helplessly as they were taken away. But yes, last time he'd seen them, they were all still alive, including Claire. Jimmy had thought Claire had died in the woods, and that it was his fault for falling out with her over Babe. Now that he knew she wasn't dead — or hadn't been when Jonas had last seen her, which was, admittedly many hours ago — surely it was his responsibility to try and help her? Jonas had ordered them back to the ship, but how could he do that? On the other hand, he also had a responsibility to get Ronni to safety. Was there a compromise? Or should he just not tell her that he was going to try and help Claire? Jonas had followed the captives at a discreet distance until they had exited the tunnels at Times Square, so Jimmy had at least a rough idea of what part of the city they were in. It was more or less on their way. Probably less.

As they entered the station's tunnel, Ronni said: 'You're very quiet.'

'Thinking,' said Jimmy.

'I had a friend like you, once,' said Ronni. 'Every time I said to him don't put your head out of that window, he put his head out of that window.'

'What happened to him?'

'His head was cut off by a passing train.'

'That's probably not a true story,' said Jimmy.

They walked on, their way lit by a torch one of the passengers had left on the rail tracks and which Jonas had recovered. It showed them the way ahead, but it also showed them thousands of rats.

'Better rats than cannibals,' was Ronni's opinion.

Jimmy wasn't so sure. Every time he kicked one, another tried to bite him. The ones on the ground weren't so bad, it was when they unexpectedly fell off the ceiling and landed on his head that they really got to him.

'And swearing at them isn't going to help,' said Ronni.

'It helps me,' said Jimmy.

They came to Penn Station and continued on their underground path towards Grand Central. In another ten minutes they came to Times Square.

Jimmy stopped. 'If we continue on from here, next stop we'll be in Grand Central.'

Ronni nodded and looked on down the line. 'So . . . ?'

'So if we arrive in Grand Central we're going to be kicking our heels all night until the rendezvous time.'

'So . . .'

'So I, could quite easily take a wander upstairs here, see what's happening. You could wait down here, if you want.'

'With the rats?'

'Better rats than cannibals, you said.'

'Jimmy — your friend ordered us to keep going.'

'Yes he did. But I'm only talking about taking a look. I mean, they're probably all dead or in a pie. What harm can it do?'

'We could end up in a pie, that's what. I almost did already.'

'Not if we're careful. You told me yourself, the only reason they knew you weren't one of them was because you screamed. If you just, like, zip it, we'll be fine.'

'Jimmy — please, it's NOT SAFE. We're not going and that's final.'

Ten minutes later they walked out of the subway station and joined the crowds milling along the overgrown sidewalk, all moving in one direction — towards Times Square. They looked so normal, at least compared to the folks he'd encountered in the new settlements. They always looked permanently lost and deprived — this lot looked together. And they looked well fed.

All around him there were happy, jaunty people. Jimmy was pretty good at blending in; Ronni not so much. She walked stiffly, her eyes almost out on stalks, hardly daring to breathe.

He told her to relax.

'I can't,' she hissed. 'I keep thinking one of them is going to turn round and bite me.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' whispered Jimmy. 'They'd want to cook you first.'

'That's . . . not . . . funny!'

But she smiled a little bit, and it helped. She didn't look quite so robotic — at least until they saw and smelled where the crowds were leading them. Ronni searched instinctively for Jimmy's hand as they saw the flames licking up from three massive bonfires burning in the middle of the street outside the New Amsterdam Theatre. Spits had been placed across them, surely ready to receive whoever the cannibals had captured.

Claire.

What can I do even if I find her? I have no weapon — and there's hundreds of them, I'll be torn to shreds if I try anything.

They had expected the cannibals to gather around the bonfires, but instead they were entering the theatre itself, which was the only building in the entire imposing square which was lit up. Jimmy stared up at the glowing neon sign above the theatre.

The Jungle King.

'What do we do?' Ronni whispered.

'We follow them in.'

'But we don't have . . .'

'Tickets?' It sounded ridiculous. 'If they ask just keep smiling and act dumb. That shouldn't be hard. Let me do the talking.'

They stepped into the theatre foyer.

Box office straight ahead.

Concession stand to the right.

The smell of popcorn.

Young ladies in smart uniforms giving out programmes.

No tickets required.

Everyone giddy with excitement.

Up red-carpeted steps and into an auditorium.

What is this? What's going on?

How can it be so normal?

They're cannibals!

An announcement came over the PA — 'Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, please take your seats for the wildest show on earth!'