"New York City." I said.
"But it can't be," she replied. "Where are the lights at the top of it...it's evening? Where are the digital billboards and-"
Right away, we began to notice the manner in which people were dressed. The men wore dress coats for the most part and openly smoked in the streets, while the women looked anything but modern. Then I spotted a crumpled newspaper nearby on the curb in front of us.
1946.
"How can this be?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know," I replied. "But we should go."
She nodded. If the Nazis were to somehow find their way to the surface, they'd be here soon enough. I didn't want to leave that to chance. We quickly became lost in the shuffle of a thousand faces, leaving the abandoned hotel and its exit only door behind us.
?
We had walked for nearly an hour. Somehow, a small part of me still wanted to believe that it was impossible. But it wasn't. We were in New York City in the year 1946 and, though that may sound impossible, I had to believe it. How could ape men or a world beneath our own that was thousands of years old even exist?
We both walked into a small diner and realized that neither of us had any money. But the look on our faces must have been enough.
"The best I can do for you on the house is coffee." a man said from behind the counter, nodding.
"Thank you." I replied.
Sarah and I both sat down, having ditched our lab coats during our escape from the hotel. Still, we looked out of place.
"You guys actors or something?" he asked.
I couldn't fault his curiosity. We looked ridiculous.
"Yea," I lied. What did I have to lose at this point? "On Broadway. We're putting together a play about Hitler living through the war."
I could feel plenty of stares cutting into me from other patrons. But the man behind the counter found humor in it.
"Hitler's deader than dog shit." he laughed.
"Yea," I replied. "In any manner, I've lost my wallet between there and here. Now it's cold outside and here we are."
He glanced at Sarah for a moment and I believe he felt pity. If not for us - for her. She would have been pretty on the eyes during any time period.
"Look," the man said. Laying a small stack of cash onto the bar. "Two dollars is all I can spare. There's a second hand store just around the corner. At least you can both get some decent clothes for the weather. I normally don't help strangers but I can't stand the thoughts of anyone being out there without a warm coat."
"Thank you." I replied.
I'd just killed a few men who deserved every bit of it, but I hadn't lost my compassion for those in need. I was glad to see that others still helped their fellow man. Or, by the look in his eyes, their fellow woman.
"Don't mention it," he said. "Just pay me back as soon as you find your wallet. We're open every day."
I nodded to thank him again. As quickly as we'd came in off of the street, we were once again on our way out.
?
That night, Sarah and I had found ourselves on a bench in Central Park. At least we had decent clothes now, and, most importantly, we had coats.
What we didn't have was answers.
"I have a list of every entry point into the underworld," she confessed. "When we were acting like we were working down below...I was working. I thought a list might come in handy."
I could have kissed that woman for her confession, if my heart didn't love another. Assuming she was still alive down below us.
"The best I can figure is that the exit elevator that we took...it must somehow be programmable to a distinct time period up here. I don't know how or why, but perhaps it was set to the year 1946 because of the last person who used it."
"Maybe." I guessed.
Hell, what did either of us know? Perhaps pink unicorns left money under children's pillows instead of the tooth fairy. We didn't know anything, and that was the truth. We'd escaped the underworld to become a couple of park bench hobos with a story that no one else would believe. And I wouldn't blame them.
"I don't know how or why, either," I admitted. "But I do know that I'm going back. If you fancy ever seeing your daughter again, you'll need to go back, too."
"Go back?" she asked.
"We could stay," I went on. "But we'd be stuck in living our lives from 1946 and beyond and you'd never see the face of your daughter again. I would rather journey back down to this damned place and search for a way to return to my own time."
"But we have no money." Sarah reminded me.
"We have something better than money." I said.
Sarah looked to me with intrigue.
"I just so happen to know that the St. Louis Cardinals win the 1946 World Series. They beat the Boston Red Sox in seven games."
I could see that she still didn't quite understand.
"This time next week, you and I will be rich enough to travel the globe if that's what we need to do. As I said before, I plan to return to the savage land and do everything in my power to get us back to our home. But I don't plan to go down there so unprepared this time."
"I see." Sarah replied. Nodding in agreement.
"I'm going to get you back to your daughter." I promised.
I could see the doubt in her eyes and that eventually swelled into tears. Sarah fell into my arms and began crying. She had helped me escape and we'd traveled much farther from her daughter than she'd been prior to helping me.
"What's your daughter's name?" I asked.
"Beth."
I found it to be an incredibly pretty name.
"Well do me a favor and document this adventure of ours as it plays out, so that we can tell Beth the real story when we see her."
I could see my statement cheer her up. Bringing a slight smile to her face.
"You're a good man." Sarah replied.
And though she was no longer distraught, I noticed that she remained in my arms. Moreover, I didn't turn her away.
I'm not sure that I would ever see Tara again. But if fate should place me back to her, I had a strong suspicion that I wouldn't know which woman now held my heart.
I only knew that there was money to be won and a second adventure to begin planning for. No matter what year it happened to be, human nature remained the same.
Mankind thirsts for adventure.
People pay to get wet.
Afterword
I have long thought of Edgar Rice Burroughs as the most influential author in history.
He had this uncanny ability to tell a story too strange to be believed, yet he somehow made you believe. His stories were just the right length and masterfully written, in my opinion.
Not only do I share Edgar Rice Burroughs' love for a strange story, I also share his birthday and plenty of other odd facts that I'll not get into, as I don't believe in reincarnation. The only reason I'm telling you this is that my inspiration for this story was Burroughs' At the Earth's Core.
This story is a tip of the hat to Edgar Rice Burroughs.
It story also incorporates another one of my true loves - the study of World War 2. It was such a large scale war that often times, there are conflicting reports. There are actually websites that are dedicated to the unsolved mysteries of World War 2. One of the most conflicting reports is the death of Adolf Hitler. The universal belief is that he died in Berlin, Germany on April 30th, 1945.
But there are also both eye witness accounts and paper trails (even photos) that say otherwise. Decades after his supposed death, the Russian government confirmed his death with an autopsy, yet they refused to release any actual facts. Only fueling the fires of speculation that Hitler and his lover fled to Argentina, leaving body doubles behind.
What do I believe? It honestly doesn't matter what I believe - you are the reader.
Hitler could have very well died on April 30th, 1945 as the record books claim or he could have fled to Argentina. He knew the end was coming and certainly had the resources. It's hard to explain a ma
n who was known for mapping out every single detail - sitting on his hands and waiting to die. It's just as easy to believe that the Russians knew the truth and hid it from their people in order to save face after a terrible blunder, isn't it? I mean, Stalin wasn't exactly known for his honesty.
In the end, I decided to take the inspiration of Edgar Rice Burroughs' At the Earth's Core and incorporate the mystery of Hitler's "death" into my own story.
What would a Third Reich look like in the year 2017, especially if it were living beneath the ground? It sounds ridiculous...at first. But there are those who believe in the great underwater city of Atlantis. Perhaps there is alien life on other planets or Bigfoot in the hills of the Pacific Northwest. Even now, a nearby town is planning a zombie walk.
You see, many people want to believe.
That's something that I think Edgar Rice Burroughs picked up on early in his career. He catered his work to the creative dreamers of the world, as do I. People pay to get wet. In a cubicle infested world of normal, people will pay for a chance to escape all of it and venture into the land of what if.
I hope you enjoyed this work of complete fiction.
Or is it?
About the Author
John Macallen Davis is the author of more than thirty stories, including the #1 bestselling Fleet series. His love of fantasy and science fiction began at an early age when discovering The Savage Sword of Conan. When he's not writing, John spends his time reading, collecting coffee mugs and watching good television. He's also passionate about NHL hockey and the 1980s. Originally from Tacoma, Washington, John now lives with his wife and two children in Southwest Virginia.
Other books by John Macallen Davis:
Gunship Series
Gunship Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Glimmeria Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Reflections Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Gears and Spears Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Legendary Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Space Rebels Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Bone Harvest Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Ghost Planet Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Skyfall Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Fleet Series
The Fleet Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Blood War Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Chaotic Worlds Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Afterworlds Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Run Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Great War Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Vampire Hunters Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Return of the Fear Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Colony Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
Graveyard Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
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