The Underground Railroad Novels & Stories

"Shut up." Carlos didn't shout, but the lethal drop in his voice made Luca freeze instantly. "One more word about her, and I'll cut out your tongue." Carlos pushed past his men, ignoring the chaos, and drove himself back to the penthouse on the Upper East Side—the safe house where he and Sophia had lived together for five years. He unlocked the door, the heavy steel clicking open. "Sophia, get me some ice and a scotch. My head is splitting." It was a habit. A command he had given a thousand times.

The men covered the raft with brush and urged everyone to be as quiet as they could while they waited for the wagon to arrive. Bertha finally divulged their intentions to Elizabeth. To Elizabeth’s surprise, but much to the awareness of all slaves in captivity, there existed a secret society made up of whites and darkies alike. This society did not support the reinstatement of slavery in Georgia. It sympathized with the plight of slaves to the extent that its members were willing to break the law in order to help them escape. The wagon for which the tense group of runaways waited belonged to just one of these sympathizers. It would take them to a plantation run by a couple who hired free dark

I asked, leaning back in my chair as a digital file loaded on my screen. “It is not a gang,” Marcus explained, paper rustling in the background. “It is a highly organized underground railroad. For six years, Lucas has been using his medical practice profits to fund safehouses, forged identification and medical care for rogue shifters, displaced pack members and human trafficking victims that our official system turns away at the border.” I scrolled through the bank transfers, eyes widening as the names of dozens of rescued families flashed across the monitor. “He is running an asylum network.” “He built an entire infrastructure in the shadows,” Marcus continued quietly. “And it gets worse, s

J’s danger notwithstanding, hope renewed in me that I would find them and catch up, I ran. Through corridor after corridor, I ran. This part of Underdenver was old, abandoned. I ran past rusted signage and flickering lights. I was breathing hard but didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. The blood trail veered toward an access tunnel I hadn’t used before. A narrow service passage marked with a faded sign: SOUTH PLATFORM—LINE 9. A train station. There were no passengers to board or get off here, in this unused part of the city, but the train still dutifully stopped at this station anyway, probably following a computer program no had updated in decades.

“When Unique told me about this tunnel I did my own research and I found out that this was used by our ancestors people. A doctor wanted to help black people but knew that they would never be able to get care at this all white hospital, so he had some black men build the tunnel which they would use in order to be treated in the middle of the night. Who knew that this tunnel would be used all these years later to help victims escape cruel punishment.” Jazz said as she turned Leah and started down the stairs slowly. Once they made it to the parking lot Jazz placed Leah in a hidden area and flagged down a cab. Once she got Leah into the car, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Where to?” The cab dr

Dangerous and notoriously difficult to find, it had evaded authorities long before Chiri had joined the Alliance and would likely still exist long after she resigned. Her foul mood persisting, Chiri stood in the dank and fishy pools of water that coated the bottom of the tunnels. The underground network than ran beneath Urgsea serving to host all undesirable persons and business, the discarded papers and scraps littered along its paths floated to the surface. Sloshed about by the hoards, Chiri felt her stomach turn in revulsion as she lurked like an unpleasant specter amongst them. The paper she had received from their assailant instructing her to wait there, Chiri clicked her tongue aggrava

"What am I looking at?" I asked. "The Underground. Supernatural network that's been operating since the resurrection event. Maybe longer, we're not entirely sure of the origins. They smuggle enhanced individuals away from government oversight, relocate them to communities where they can live without surveillance, provide new identities and support structures." He pointed to various nodes on the map. "Safe houses across North America. Some in Europe and Asia. Families who've successfully disappeared. Children who were targeted by Chrysalis or programs like it who are now living under new identities in protected communities."

As soon as I reach the tunnel that led us here, I have a door grown in front of me that I open up to get back through to Rand. "There was a problem back there. There is an underground river that you would have dug right into if you had kept going. It is potentially problematic and could have killled many people. I could not dig back the way you normally do but I did manage to put an area big enouph for an extended family in there." I explain.

We are here in the Underground City, a hidden location where gangsters, assassins, mafia princes and princesses, reapers, and other people with dirty jobs take shelter or permanently live. The majority of illegal work comes from here, and it is protected by the government because they can profit a large sum of money from here during election season. You know, all the nefarious tactics they’ll do in order to obtain their desired position. The authorities as well had never raided this area. You know, money can make anything work.

The relief I felt was short-lived, quickly replaced by the weight of the issues we were facing. “Arthur,” I said, moving to sit in the chair across from him. “We need to talk about what comes next.” He opened one eye. “Can it wait until I’m not bleeding internally?” “No.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “This safe house—it’s one of many in a network. We help slaves escape from their owners and get them to safety.” That got his attention. Both eyes opened now, focusing on me with difficulty. “A network?” he repeated.