“He sped up a bit and then paused by the entrance to the Central Park South station. The path in the grass was obvious now, if you knew where to look. The jackhammer still burred across the street.
Careful not to attract attention, Turtle approached the tall bushes and parted them again. He reached out and touched the rock. Behind it, somewhere deep in the stone, he felt the train roar into the station.
All it would take was a slight push and he’d be inside, but he froze, thinking of being lost in the endless tunnels. He’d be traveling then, without a goal and without any idea of where he was going to end up—if he ever came back out at all. Turtle imagined riding the train forever, like a ghost haunting the tunnels. He didn’t even have a snack in his backpack, let alone enough water to survive lost in the tunnels for long.
The door ceased vibrating, so Turtle pressed his ear to the stone. On the inside, someone (or something) started pounding. He heard a faint voice, a girl’s voice. Then Turtle heard the pounding again.
Someone needed help.
He pushed the stone face and the wind began to suck him in. He held onto the bushes and pushed harder. Suddenly, barreling out of the Mytro door was a girl about his age with long black hair. Her green eyes were wide with fear and she pushed past Turtle and out into the park.
“Ayúdame!” she yelled. “Cierra la puerta!” Behind her he saw two men exit the train and race towards them.
“What?” he yelled. The girl looked at him and then back at the men on the platform.
“Close the door!” she screamed. He let go and it whooshed shut. The girl sat down on the grass, panting.
“Please,” she said. “I need your help.”