Excerpt: Zero Street

The train pulled into Grand Central Station and the four of them hurried to catch a subway downtown. It was significantly dirtier than the Metro had been, but Remy sort of liked it that way. The dirt, to him, spoke of something deeper. The subway had character.

The subway also had rats, but that was beside the point.

These seats were hard plastic, but their bright orange color was no less lurid than the Metro’s. Moments after they sat down, the doors closed with a hiss and a two-tone chime. Then the train was ricketing along in the dark, a black only interrupted by the occasional soft blue signal light.

The short ride passed in an easy silence, and the subway spat them out on 14th Street. From there, they began ambling south. Phil was listening as Emily went on about something or other, while Remy and Michelle hung back, taking in their prospects.

“So, I’m thinking we hit up the pawnshops first,” Michelle was saying.

“No deal. Strand’s a block away.”

“Think about it,” she pressed. “We have to back up this way anyway, and by the time we get there Phil will no doubt have worked his magic on-“ the name failing her, she jerked her head at Emily. “And maybe we’ll find you something with a bit more edge to add to your wardrobe,” she added, looking Remy up and down.

Remy cracked a smile. “All right,” he said, mostly because he couldn’t find much reason to say no. Michelle tended to be set on an idea when she got into her head, and this one was far from her worst.

“Ooh, Native American art!” Emily cooed, seeing a store window full of mahogany and turquoise artifacts. She tugged on Phil’s arm. “Let’s go look at these, that stuff is so
cultural!”

“Sure thing,” Phil said, puffing out his chest a bit to help him reassume command of the situation. “Guys, come check this out with us,” he called over.

“Nah, we’re gonna hit some of the shops down the street,” Remy replied. “Just call us when you’re done.” Phil nodded, then allowed himself to be dragged into Standing Bear’s Native American Arts Emporium by a captivated Emily. Michelle and Remy both smirked as they watched him go.

“That Phil,” she sighed. “Think he ever gets tired of ordering the same thing at every restaurant he goes to?”

“Restaurant?” Remy asked quizzically. He pointed at the Emporium. “That’s an art store.”

“It was a metaphor, stupid.” She cuffed him on the shoulder. He blinked.

“Oh.” He shrugged. He was many things, but subtle was not one of them. “Come on, let’s give them some space. How far away is this place you wanted to see?”

“Just a few blocks down,” Michelle replied, leading the way. “I’m hoping they’ll have another cool hat today,” she added as an afterthought, readjusting her own as she did. The crowd started to thicken as they ambled past street after street, and Remy had to work to not lose Michelle in a crowd of people head and shoulders taller than her, even with her hat. All around them, busy people bustled, everyone hurrying somewhere or another even though it was a weekend. He and Michelle took their sweet time, enjoying their free day and the great weather that came with it. 10th Street became 9th, which became 8th. Mentally, Remy counted down as they crossed another intersection. Before he knew it, they were on 1st Street. Michelle said something, but over the din of the crowd Remy couldn’t hear it. He leaned over and turned his head to her as they kept walking.

“What?” he asked.

“I said, ‘Why do you think they stopped the numbering here?’ Why not just start 1st Street at the bottom of Manhattan and just work up?” Remy shrugged.

“Beats me,” he replied. “Guess they didn’t think that far-“ He stopped cold. As he strode through the crosswalk, he shuddered. A strange sensation had come over him. It was something similar to an ice cream headache, and yet the feeling was not concentrated in his head. He couldn’t quite describe where he was feeling it, but his gut was telling him that the sensation was somehow in his soul. And then, quite suddenly, the noise all stopped.

That was the moment that Remy and Michelle disappeared.

The feeling subsided, and Remy looked around, confused. The crowd of people he had been in the middle of had just up and vanished, as had most of the people lining the other nearby streets. He saw Michelle was still with him.

“What just happened there?” Remy asked.

“I don’t know.”

“And where did everyone go?”

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding even more confused this time. They looked behind them, at the way they had just come. Right at the middle of the crosswalk, right where the noise had stopped, there was a strange shimmering effect in the air, rather like what one could see in an asphalt parking lot on a very hot day. In the island of calm, the city bustled around them. Cars sped past, their forms distorted by rippling air, and pedestrians milled around. Remy watched as the lights on the crosswalk changed, and a fresh tide of people surged across the street towards them. But as they approached the middle of the street, something strange happened. The ones nearest to the shimmering air simply disappeared. No puff of smoke, no poof!, nothing. Remy started.

“What just-?” Remy looked around wildly, as though expecting those people to materialize right next to him. He felt a tug on his arm.

“Remy.” Michelle pointed, and Remy saw that on the other side of the street, there was another strange layer of shimmering air, and the people he’d seen disappear before his very eyes were suddenly over there less than a second later, going on their way as though nothing had happened. “What kind of place is this?” Michelle asked. There was a tremor in her voice and she clutched his arm. Remy cast his glance up to the nearest street sign, and two words stared back at him:

“Zero Street.”