The Tube Riders

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The Tube Riders Page 6

by Chris Ward


  ‘Was a Tube Rider,’ Dan corrected.

  ‘Let go of him, Maul.’

  The hands dropped. Dan allowed himself to breathe. ‘I left them, and –’

  ‘So you’ve broken their code by coming here. Regardless of what I feel about the Tube Riders, breaking codes is something we don’t believe in. Breaking the code of the Cross Jumpers means death under the trains.’ Dreggo took a step away from Dan and waved an arm back towards the platform. Her arms too, bore a number of tattoos. He caught a glimpse of her inner elbow, and saw what looked like old needle track marks there. Whatever darkness Dan had seen in his life, it seemed Dreggo had seen more.

  ‘They have their code, and we have ours. But one thing links both – community. If you become a Tube Rider or a Cross Jumper you join a family. Our two families might feud, but dishonour is something we both understand.’ She gestured behind him. ‘Maul, take him to the track.’

  ‘I know where they are,’ Dan blurted.

  He heard the intake of her breath, sharp, desperate. ‘Wait. Maul, leave us a moment.’

  ‘Are you sure –’

  ‘Yes.’

  The big man shot a dark look at Dan and lumbered away towards the other Cross Jumpers, most of whom were looking down at Petey’s body. Some were openly crying now, others were comforting each other, cursing, punching the concrete pillars in anger. Dan wondered if the other Tube Riders would have acted like this had it been him lying down there on the tracks. He didn’t think so.

  ‘So, you know where they ride now,’ Dreggo said. ‘While I pity your disloyalty, I admit that this is information I want.’

  ‘And what do I get in return?’

  Dreggo smiled. Despite the coldness of her eyes she was attractive. Pretty face, nice ass, and pert tits, he thought, tucked away under that t-shirt of hers. He didn’t think she was in the same league as Marta but she would do well enough. She might look completely asexual and robotic but that might be an act she kept up around her goon army.

  ‘Aside from keeping your life?’ Dreggo said.

  ‘I want to join you,’ Dan repeated.

  Dreggo gave him a condescending smile. ‘Really. Well. It is normal for there to be an initiation.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you understand what we do here, er – what’s your name?’

  ‘Dan.’

  ‘Dan.’ She rolled the name across her tongue like a piece of candy. Her tongue flicked out and ran across her lips, and she gave him a thin smile. Oh yeah, Dan thought, staring into her eyes like a hypnotist’s victim. I definitely would.

  ‘I know what you do,’ he said aloud. ‘You jump across the tracks as the train comes in.’

  She cocked her head. ‘In a nutshell. Do you know how we choose a leader?’ Dan shook his head. ‘We mark the point at which we jump,’ she said. ‘And the point that the front edge of the train has reached at the moment of the jump. An average length is between thirty and forty feet for a normal train, higher for an express. The holder of the shortest jump . . . is leader. And,’ she added, ‘remains so until that jump is either beaten or the leader dies.’

  ‘What did you jump?’

  ‘Did I say you could question me?’ Her hand shot up and her index finger pressed into Dan’s cheek just below the bone. He flinched back. ‘But for the record, I jumped twelve feet. No one else has ever jumped under twenty.’ She smiled, dropping her hand again. ‘And landed with all their limbs.’

  Dan, who knew a little about the dismount lengths that characterized tube riding, understood. ‘How –’

  ‘Did I do it?’ Dreggo stepped closer to him and glared into his eyes. He felt a mixture of arousal and fear. She stared at him until he looked away. With his gaze on the ground, she said, ‘Because the day I made that jump, I didn’t want to make it to the other side.’

  He couldn’t help but look up at her, his mouth dropping open in shock.

  ‘I wanted to die,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. She leaned close, her breath tickling his ear. It too, was icy cold. Further down the platform Dan caught a glimpse of Maul looking decidedly pissed off. Ice queen she might be, but there was something about her that made her attractive.

  ‘I had no fear of it,’ she breathed into his ear. ‘You know what life is like in London GUA, don’t you, Dan? You have your nightmares, I’m sure. Let me tell you mine.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘Do you remember the riots three years ago?’

  He did. In the summer of 2072 some spy had got hold of a secret government file and a list of possible informers was published in an underground magazine called Exposed, not to mention pasted up on every lamp post or bus shelter in central London. Mobs had looted and smashed up the city, lynching those people named in the list who hadn’t gone to ground quick enough. He remembered seeing people burned alive, noosed up off street lamps, beaten to death. It had been brutal stuff. The DCA had engaged in pitched battles with gangs of rioters and hundreds were killed. It was a wonder the Huntsman hadn’t been deployed to make it worse.

  He said dourly, ‘How could I forget.’

  ‘My father’s name was one of those printed,’ she said, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. ‘He hadn’t done anything. He was just a postal worker who worked in the recorded post section, and somehow his name had gotten on that list. Didn’t matter. I came home to find my parents dead. My mother had been thrown from the top of the stairs and had broken her neck. My father had been tied to our kitchen table and gutted with a bread knife.’

  Dan squeezed his eyes shut. ‘That’s fucked.’

  ‘You bet it is. The worst thing, though, was that the looters were still there. In my parents’ room, in the basement, searching for anything of value they could find. They were just about done, their hands full of some money my dad had secreted away, and my mother’s jewelry. And then I walked through the door. I was fifteen. I’d just come home from school.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘It must have been like Christmas.’

  Dan risked a glance at her, and was surprised not to see a single tear in her eyes. Her face was cold, hard like stone.

  ‘There were six of them. By the time the first three or four were done, I was past caring. And then, when they’d all had their fill of my cunt, they beat the living shit out of me and kicked me out on to the street like a piece of junk, probably thinking I was dead. Then they torched my house.’

  Tears welled in Dan’s eyes. He’d seen his fair share of shit and dealt out a little too, but this was on a level he couldn’t contemplate. He suddenly regretted coming here. Regretted it very much.

  ‘Things got worse,’ she said. ‘The usual downward spiral. I took drugs to blank it out, ended up homeless, whoring myself for money. What I really wanted was to die, I just didn’t know how. Then, three months ago, a guy who called himself my boyfriend dragged me down here, promised a new high. When I saw those trains and what people were doing, I saw my chance to escape. I jumped at that train, wanting it to end me. But when I landed on the other side, it was like I had passed through a wall. I had emerged into a new world.’

  Dan didn’t know what to say. Behind them, a train roared through the station, leaving more screams and tears in its aftermath, as the gradual job of clearing away Petey’s remains began.

  ‘I put a knife in my boyfriend’s heart as we lay together that night. And since then I have hunted and killed every one of those men who hurt me and slaughtered my family. Cross-jumping gave me peace. And in return, I will protect it.’ She turned and walked a few steps away from him.

  ‘The Tube Riders play a game,’ she continued. ‘They hang from the sides of the trains like kids on a climbing frame. The Cross Jumpers joust with death itself. You make it, you live. You miss – like Petey did – you die. Our only game is to see how close to death we can get.’

  Dan remembered the way the Tube Riders had talked about the Cross Jumpers, that cross-jumping was considered easy, that having no contact with the trains at all was an easy way out, but
Dreggo had impressed him. Perhaps coming here hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. If nothing else, he wanted to join them just to be near her.

  He waited until she turned around, then he looked up. It took him a moment to speak because his heart was beating so hard. ‘So? Am I in?’

  ‘Tell me where the Tube Riders are, and I’ll let you take the initiation.’

  ‘What –’

  She turned back towards him, a knife in her hand. He had been disarmed by her, tricked into thinking he could bargain. ‘This is the knife I used to gut those men,’ she said. ‘The way they did my father. Only I made sure it took them a lot longer to die.’ She rubbed a finger along the blade, and a little trickle of blood appeared on her skin. ‘I’ll let you take the initiation, if you tell me where the Tube Riders are.’

  He hesitated only a second. ‘St. Cannerwells,’ he said, voice shaking.

  The knife vanished. The same hand rubbed Dreggo’s nose. Her thin brow furrowed. ‘I don’t know that one,’ she said.

  ‘It’s on the old Piccadilly Line, two or three stops past West Green. There’s only one entrance left, at the top of St. Cannerwells Park, opposite a boarded-up launderette.’

  Dreggo stroked her chin, and the seductive tone was back. ‘My, my, keen to sell out our friends, aren’t we?’

  ‘They’re not my friends,’ Dan said quickly. ‘They didn’t want me.’

  ‘Who is their leader?’

  ‘They don’t have one.’

  ‘Every gang has a leader.’

  Dan felt a sudden pang of disgust with himself, but the words were already on his tongue. No chance now. ‘It guess it would be Marta. Yeah, their leader is called Marta.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Dreggo turned back to him. ‘Okay, you can have your chance. Maul! This one is going to take the initiation. Let’s see if he has what it takes to become a Cross Jumper.’

  Maul jogged over. He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Dreggo. It looked like a black scarf.

  ‘Come with me,’ Dreggo said.

  Dan followed Dreggo along the platform, with Maul trailing behind them both. The other Cross Jumpers parted at their approach, stepping away from Dreggo as though they held her in reverence. Dan noticed the sorrow on many of the faces, the tears still fresh. The others had told him that tube riding was about fun, the rush, the excitement. What was this, where it was so easy to get killed?

  ‘Come here.’ Dreggo went to stand behind Dan. She covered his eyes with the scarf, tying it tightly around the back of his head.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘This is the initiation, Dan. To see if you have what it takes to jump with us. You are seven good strides from the edge of the platform. When the next train comes, you will jump across in front of it. Blindfolded.’

  ‘You have got to be joking.’ Dan suddenly didn’t feel drunk anymore. He started to pull the blindfold off his face, but felt her knife press against his throat.

  ‘You have made your decision, Dan. Stick to it. Everyone here has done it, as have many before them whose honour you threaten to undermine.’

  ‘I can’t –’

  ‘Yes, you can. Listen for the train. You’ll hear it come out of the tunnel. You have about eight seconds before it passes you, but you’re not looking for a jump distance here. Just to get across. I suggest you start to run as soon as you hear it.’

  ‘How far is it?’

  ‘About ten feet. The biggest problem with Cross Jumping is that we can only do it with single track lines. Try and jump a double track and you just land on the far set of rails.’ She chuckled. ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Dreggo, one’s coming!’

  ‘Okay, Dan, you get one shot at this. Chicken out, and it’s over. Jump and you’re one of us.’

  ‘Holy fuck . . .’

  Dan braced himself as he heard the roar building up in the tunnel. This was his chance, his chance to make it as a Cross Jumper, to be accepted. His one chance. He had no doubt that Dreggo would kill him if he didn’t try, so really, it was jackpot or bust. He steeled himself, praying that the lingering effect of the rum would give him enough Dutch courage to make it across.

  The train burst out of the tunnel with a roar he knew well. Dan kicked off, counting his steps towards the platform edge aloud.

  ‘One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . .’

  He braced himself to jump –

  #

  In three quick steps Dreggo reached the platform edge, just to the side of Dan as he started to run. She heard him counting under his breath. Good, he was really trying. A shame he’d never make it.

  As Dan came level with her, she stuck out her left foot.

  Dan gasped as he overbalanced, his forward momentum sending him over the edge and down on to the tracks. There was a thud as he landed: the breath knocked out of him. He didn’t have time to cry out, but it pleased Dreggo to see him writhe in pain. He groaned, managed to prop himself up on one elbow, then the train was on him. It thundered past them in a blur, wheels clacking over the tracks. Dan, as a human being at least, was done.

  As the train roared away into the far tunnel, Dreggo looked down at the tracks, at the mess that remained of the former Tube Rider. Within twenty trains or so, there would be little left but blood, and rats would clean that up. She turned back to the other Cross Jumpers, many of whom were staring at her open-mouthed, horrorstruck. Her predecessor as leader, Billy Lees, looked like he was meditating at the back, arms folded, head down. He was right not to look at her; any sign of dissent would line him up as the next to fall. Dreggo had more tricks than just sticking out her foot.

  One or two others, Maul included, watched her in a solid show of support. Maul, she knew, would have done it for her, had she asked. He would do anything he thought might get him closer to her bed, but it would never happen. The pleasure Dreggo felt from her body had been taken from her long ago by the looters and worse that she hadn’t needed to tell Dan. It was something she used as a tool occasionally for personal gain; she would never again use it for love or pleasure.

  Almost twenty, she counted in total, as they stood before her, waiting for her to speak. Not so bad, and there were a few not here today. Far better than the Tube Riders, who numbered – what had he said? – four? Just four. It wouldn’t take much, she knew, to get rid of them. All she had to do was ensure that their disappearance didn’t encourage their legend any further, that they were shown up to be what they were, a group of unenviable misfits with too much time on their hands. Then of course, with the Tube Riders out of their way, the Cross Jumpers could start working on their own legend.

  ‘Listen up,’ she said, her voice raised. She waited until all their eyes were on her. ‘That man, Dan, claimed to be a Tube Rider. He is not dead now because he was a Tube Rider, though that might be reason enough. He is dead because he betrayed those close to him. Let this be a warning to you. Anyone who does the same to the Cross Jumpers will suffer the same fate, or worse. If you betray the Cross Jumpers, I will find you. Do you understand?’

  There were murmurs of assent. Eyes fell to the ground below her gaze.

  ‘Petey died today with honour. Petey wanted to prove himself strong enough to run with the Cross Jumpers. He gave us the greatest honour he could give by risking his life for us, and it saddens me that he is dead. He failed, but he will be remembered. This day should have been Petey’s day, but instead it has been stolen from him by this coward whose blood, as we speak, mixes with Petey’s pure blood and taints it. We will remember Petey for giving his life as a Cross Jumper, and we will also remember this dissenter who dared wear the name “Tube Rider”.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘The Tube Riders are my enemies, as they are yours. But until this day I respected them. I respected them for what they did, for what they are, for what they have become. But I respect them no longer. It embarrasses me to think that they soil the same places we use for cross-jumping. It hurts me.’

  There were more murmurs of assent. Maul p
unched the air and shouted, ‘Yeah!’

  ‘Thankfully, this fool’s life was not entirely wasted. Before he died, he told me where we can find them.’

  There was a ripple of excitement across the crowd.

  ‘So tomorrow . . .’ Dreggo paused for dramatic effect. ‘We hunt.’

  The crowd erupted into cheers.

  Chapter Six

  Training

  ‘Everyone, this is Jessica. My, um, friend.’ Simon waved a shy hand at her, feeling their scrutinizing eyes on him. Paul looked just as flustered as him, while Marta wore an amused smile. Switch wasn’t looking at him at all, but was over by the platform edge, staring down at the tracks and muttering under his breath.

  ‘His girlfriend,’ Jess corrected, giving a smile of her own at Simon’s awkwardness. ‘And call me Jess.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jess,’ Marta said, reaching out to shake the other girl’s hand. ‘Marta. Short for Martina, but God, I hate that. Sounds like a shit type of car.’

  Jess laughed. ‘I can’t decide if “Jessica” sounds more like a doll or a bar of soap.’

  ‘I’m Paul, short for, um, Paul.’ He shook her hand too.

  ‘Switch?’ Simon said, looking back at the little man as he continued to examine the tracks.

  ‘Is she cool, Simon?’ Switch asked without turning around. ‘We can’t have another bailer on our hands.’

  ‘Huh, what are you, a Cross Jumper?’

  Switch turned quickly, eyes firing. ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘Well, ease off the inquisition.’

  ‘Hi, I’m Switch,’ he said without coming closer.

  ‘Hi.’

  Switch nodded then turned away. He started to walk along the platform edge.

  ‘Wow, he’s a little –’

  ‘Sharp?’ Marta finished. ‘Yeah, he is. Sharp as the knife he carries. He’s a loyal friend, but he’s under no illusions about the world up there.’ She cocked her head towards the ceiling. ‘Be nice to him, but don’t expect him to be nice back, for a while. It takes time to earn his trust. He doesn’t hand it out easily.’

 

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