Abandoned: Railway Part Two
Martina must have been-what?-seventeen? Maybe even eighteen? She was as tall as any adult, though, and wore an elaborate black outfit that wouldn’t have been out of place in Las Vegas. Her hair, a sharp platinum blonde, was dyed with streaks of turquoise, and her eyes were surrounded with green shadows. “I’m surprised,” she said, in that irritatingly calm voice. “Normally people trying to escape are either dead or about to be. But you manage to get out. Must have been the food. Not good enough? No, that’s not it. The way the guards were treating you? Nah. How about the fact that your entire tribe are currently my prisoners?”
Abel staggered back, surprised. But then, from just down the street, came a familiar voice.
“Somehow I doubt that, Martina.”
Sham. Sure enough, the entire Player population came charging from Seventh Avenue, and flooded into the station. Paco ran up to Abel and Leil, and filled them in on the plan. First, they had been missing for five days, and in that time, seven Manhattan tribes and countless strays had been eliminated. The situation was desperate. So, along with Sham’s makeshift militia, the Players were attacking the Moles head-on. The plan was to hijack a train and invade Grand Central Station, the Moles’ main hub. From there, they would radiate throughout New York City and wipe out the Mole menace once and for all. Of course, there was one small technicality-Abel and Leil going missing. Luckily, they had a night guard who, in a daze, remembered some people sneaking into the Toys R Us. There was no other explanation-the Moles had kidnapped them. It was sheer dumb luck that they had planned to attack from the exact same station that Abel and Leil were escaping from. Leil grabbed Abel’s shoulder and the two ran into the subway station, where a battle was in full swing. A transport train had arrived to provide backup, but it wasn’t doing much good. In fact, Sham was leading an assault, attempting to get everyone onboard for step two of the invasion. Abel, Leil, and Paco jumped onto onto one of the cars. Leil quickly kicked a guard in the face, crossing his eyes and knocking him about. Abel got punched in the face, but responded with a quick kidney shot. Paco leaped onto a guard, tackling him. A scout in the next car over reported that the train was taken-all they needed to do was head to Grand Central.
It took about an hour, since they were traveling at top speeds, but trying to shake off the Moles that tried to jump onboard at every stop. Eventually, they made it to the station, and charged into the main area, which was more like a cathedral than a train station. At least a hundred feet above them was a stained-glass window. Of course, that was nothing compared to what must have been at least seventy-five Moles standing in phalanx formation in front of the exit. There was no other way to go. Standing at the head of the army was Martina, except that she wasn’t wearing regal black robes anymore. She had donned what looked like football gear (minus the helmet), only it had been spray painted green and blue, with black diamond insignias on the shoulders. And, of course, the bo staff wrapped in barbed wire that she was holding. She raised it, screaming some sort of battle cry, and charged.
Considering that the total number of soldiers in Sham’s militia totaled about a hundred and fifty, the odds were against the Moles. But about two seconds into the battle, Martina swung her deadly staff at Sham’s head. It connected, throwing him to the ground. Abel could see blood streaming from his ear. Leil noticed it, too, and ran over to help him. Sham grunted and tried to pick himself up, but just collapsed onto the marble floor. One of the Player guards noticed and dragged him off to the side. Meanwhile, the Mole soldiers were pushing further and further into the militia’s lines, even though they were holding fast. That’s when Sham yelled one last order before he passed out.
“Close the wings!”
Instantly, Sham’s militia moved around the Mole forces, trapping them. It took about five minutes before the enemy tribe was on their knees, hands in the air. Abel leisurely kicked one in the leg, knocking him over. The guy growled, and tried to get up, but one of the guards pointed his javelin at him, and the Mole reluctantly settled back into his original position. Sham, head partially bandaged, staggered over using a bo staff as a makeshift walking stick. He asked a guard, “Martina?” The guard shook his head.
“Don’t ask me how, but she got away.”
Sham cursed, then tried to stand up straight and moaned. “I can’t go after her like this,” he said, rubbing his temple. “Think you two can capture her?” Abel and Leil simultaneously nodded.
“Good. I’ll give you guys a few soldiers. Meanwhile, I’ll be tied up supervising the transport of these guys to one of the Tropics’ hangouts near the harbor. Good luck.”
Leil saluted. The two, along with six other warriors, ran out of Grand Central and into the street. Standing at the end of the block was none other than Martina, in full battle armor. The group started to charge her, but at least a dozen Moles intercepted them, dashing out of the alleys. When they had cleared the troops, Martina had disappeared. In her place was a single manilla envelope. Leil ran over and picked it up, opening it and reading the attached message. “I am at the place where the dream came alive. Wow. Sounds like Martina’s a Carmen Sandiego fan.” Abel started pacing back and forth, until finally, his eyes lit up. “Got it,” he said. He told Leil and the others his plan. One of the soldiers hotwired a Dodge pickup and they set out to find the most evil tribe leader they had yet to face.