“What do you lot want?” he demanded.
Marshall spotted an elderly woman in a dressing gown among the crowd. His heart, which had been racing pretty much constantly for the past few hours, seemed to crash to a halt in his chest. “Uh, sir,” he began.
“No’ now, detective inspector,” said Hoon. He took another step closer to the crowd. There were thirty or forty of them, most of them at least partly hunched over, their faces twisted in anger, their fingers curved into claws. “I’m going to give you folks the count of three to fuck off,” Hoon said. “Station’s shut. You’re on your own. One,” he began.
“Martin?” Leanne whispered. Marshall took her hand and squeezed it.”
“Two!” boomed Hoon.
“Uh, sir,” Marshall hissed.
Hoon held up a hand for silence. He opened his mouth to say, “Three,” but before the word could escape his lips, the crowd surged forwards.
Marshall looked around, searching for a way past the onrushing horde, but there was a wall behind them, and the crowd was closing in on all other sides.
Leanne’s grip tightened in his hand. They looked at each other, and both saw fear in the other’s eyes.
They were surrounded. Trapped.
And there was nowhere left to run.
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The Bug - Episode 2 Page 5