Revolution - Jennifer Donnelly [121]
Charon says, “Sacré-Coeur is most excellently beautiful.”
Jules says, “You must visit the Place des Vosges.”
“Maybe you like the shopping?” Khadija says. “Go to Bon Marché. They have many jewelries there.”
I laugh. It comes out sounding sad and insane. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll try those. Nice to meet you all. Sorry about the big fat scene.”
I start to walk off but Virgil grabs my arm. “No way. You’re coming with us. Let’s go,” he says. I can see the worry in his eyes.
I give him a lame smile. “It’s okay. Really. I’m better now. I just … I just had too much coffee.”
I try to walk off again but he won’t let go of my arm. “I can’t go with you because I’ve got a gig and I can’t cancel it. I need the money. They need the money,” he says, hooking his thumb at his friends. “So you’re coming with me.”
“No.”
He shakes his head. Swears at me. His beautiful eyes are filled with anger now. He leans in close and says, “Do you want me to pick you up and carry you? Because I will.”
I don’t say anything but I stop pulling away from him.
Constantine looks at me, then at Virgil. “We go now?” he asks uncertainly.
Virgil wipes my face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Yeah, Tino,” he says. “We go.”
PURGATORY
More than a thousand at the gates I saw
Out of the Heavens rained down, who angrily
Were saying, “Who is this that without death
Goes through the kingdom of the people dead?”
—DANTE
62
“So, where is this party, anyway?” Jules says as we head to the Métro.
“At the beach,” Virgil says.
Charon groans. Constantine swears.
“Yuck. Not that place,” Khadija says. “I hate it there.”
I don’t say anything at first. I can’t. I’m just stumbling along, wrung out. But then I remember Virgil telling me about the beach. He said it was some kind of party hangout. In the catacombs.
“But it closes at four in the afternoon. The sign said so,” I say. Tiredly. Stupidly.
“What closes at four?” Virgil says.
“The catacombs. I took a tour.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” he says. “That was the official tour. Tonight, you’re taking the unofficial one.”
“I don’t want to go in the sewer,” I say.
“Why? Worried you might catch something fatal?” he says, in an acid tone. “Don’t worry. We’re not going in that way.”
We come to a Métro station and take a train to the Denfert-Rochereau stop. Everyone gets off, crosses the platform, and walks down to the far end. I’m plodding behind them, still out of it, clutching my guitar case. We wait. Only for a few seconds. A train pulls in. I go to get on it but Virgil holds me back. The train pulls out again.
“You ready?” he asks me.
“Um, yeah, but the train just pulled out.”
The next thing I know, he and Tino and all the rest of them are jumping down on the tracks.
“Come on,” he says, reaching for me. “We’ve got four minutes.”
“Before what?”
“Before we’re track sauce.”
I hand him my guitar and jump down. I should be scared. This is dangerous. If I cared, I would be.
“I’ll carry the guitars. Stay close to me and stay away from that,” he says pointing at the electric rail. He starts running, slow and easy. He’s carrying both guitars, his and mine.
I follow him. I can hear the others ahead of us. I hear their feet slapping against the ground between the rails, splashing through the murky puddles.
“Virgil! There’s track work. They’ve got slabs down between the rails,” Jules shouts back.
“Keep going!” Virgil yells back.
“Where are we going?” I shout.
“There’s an archway up ahead. In the side of the tunnel. It’s the way in.”
I feel something then—a soft rush of warm, stale air against my face.
“Virgil!” Jules shouts.
“What?”
“Something’s coming.”
“Don’t be a girl, Jules.”
“He’s not—” Khadija says.
Jules cuts her off. “There’s a train! It’s a work train! I can see it!”
“Shut up, Jules!” Virgil yells. “Everyone! Shut up and run!”
He puts on a burst of speed. They all do. They’re streaking way ahead of me. Virgil yells at me to hurry. I run faster, trying to keep up. And then I see it. A glow. And it’s becoming stronger by the second. The ground is rumbling.