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“I thought you’d been caught!” I gasp, relief flooding through me.
“We don’t get caught, little girl,” growls Burke, his hand still closed around my wrist. “Now come on. Those sirens aren’t for us, but they could be, if we stick around.” He pulls me along behind him into the depths of Central Park.
“But it’s illegal to walk through Central Park at night. They close the park after one a.m., and with good reason because it’s dangerous,” I feebly protest.
Burke stops momentarily.
“We’re the criminals, sweetheart,” he growls with an amused expression on his face. “We’re the ones people are hoping to avoid.”
And for some reason, that sends a shiver of delight through my body. With a gasp, I come to a halt because suddenly, I see it for the first time. Tucked under his arms, are several frames wrapped in black cloth.
“Ohhh,” is my breathless gasp. “That must be it.”
“It sure is,” nods Bruce. “Now enough talking, princess. We need to get out of here.” I shut up, knowing it’s best this way. Bruce is carrying several paintings as well, and both men have black velvet sacks slung over their shoulders. They look heavy because they’re no doubt full to the brim with my mother’s jewelry. Good. Satisfaction brings a grim smile to my face.
Watching their dark shadows stalk alongside me, carrying the bounty, Burke and Bruce strike me as old-fashioned thieves. Robbers from the old world, more akin to pirates in Victorian London than modern thieves who do all their work on-line using fake avatars.
I follow them obediently, Burke’s hand closed tightly around mine. Bruce’s footsteps follow, and I can feel his body heat against my back. For such enormous men, their steps are light, and they move with agile grace. I suppose they’re in “criminal mode,” if that makes sense. After all, when they were in my bedroom, their footsteps were heavy, and their breath came in grunts. It’s the latter I’m used to, and it’s interesting to see them in their element.
Plus, I know I’m safe. Even though we’re walking through Central Park at night with millions of dollars of loot from my parents’ house, I’ve never felt more at ease. The odd junkie or hobo slinks away at our approach. There’s no sound, and even the animals seem to be holding their breath.
We’re well past the edge of the park now. It’s so dark I can’t really even see shapes anymore as we plunge through underbrush, tall trees shading our forms from the starry night above. But the men seem to know where they’re going, and I follow obediently. Just as I’m wondering where we’re headed, Burke stops, and I collide gently with his hard, muscled back. The men stand still, listening, and I hold my breath in anticipation.
“It’s safe,” rasps Burke as he bends down. I don’t see what he’s doing but there’s a rusty creak, and then the grinding sound of metal being dragged across a rough surface. His twin moves forward and then literally disappears. One moment Bruce was a shadow, and then next, he was gone. What’s going on?
My eyes strain in the dark, but I can’t see exactly what’s happening. Suddenly, a splash from very far away catches my ears. Oh my god, did the twins just locate a manhole which leads to water? How is this possible, right under Central Park? The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles come to mind, but that thought is instantly pushed out of my mind as I’m gently pulled forward by Burke.
“Sit down and dangle your feet,” he orders in his deep, gentle voice. I do as he says, guided down by the protection of his strong, large hands, and I find myself sitting on the edge of an open manhole. Holy shit, I was right.
“Hold onto my arm, and I’ll lower you in,” continues Burke. “Bruce will catch you at the bottom.” Even though I’m hesitant, I don’t dare show it because I can sense their urgency. We’re fleeing from a crime scene, and I need to act swiftly.
Obediently, I clasp my hands around Burke’s strong forearm, and the muscles tense before lowering me in. I’m met with stale, still air and a smell that’s entirely new to me – it’s earthy and musty but also something else. It smells old, like this place hasn’t been aired out in centuries. I realize that my initial instinct was correct – this tunnel has been unused for so long that it must be a secret, known only to a select few.
There’s a moment of dangling in mid-air, where my only connection to anything is my hands clinging onto Burke’s arm. But then I feel warm, calloused hands on my ankles, then my calves and knees, and then my thighs, as I’m lowered down to Bruce. When Bruce’s hands are on my waist, I let go of his brother’s arm, and Bruce lifts me down like I weigh nothing, setting me down in the shallow puddle that seems to be lining the bottom of this tunnel. Thank god, it wasn’t a splash into a cavernous pool miles deep.
