The Tube Riders

by Chris Ward

  The girl continued on up the stairs on to the next floor. Dreggo hoped the girl found him soon before anyone discovered their presence. She wanted to kill them quickly without involving the Huntsmen if possible, because that was when things would get really bloody.

  Someone opened a door below her. Above her, she heard the girl freeze, then tip-toe quickly away, open a door and slip inside. Glancing around a corner behind her, Dreggo saw a woman dressed in a white apron start up the stairs. Dreggo hurried on and slipped into an alcove in the wall a few feet from the top of the stairs. The woman came up behind her, quietly whistling to herself. At the top of the stairs the woman had a choice of right or left.

  If she chose right, she would see Dreggo and would die.

  She chose left.

  Still whistling to herself, she walked along the corridor, past one of the doors behind which the girl was hiding, and disappeared out of sight.

  Dreggo waited a few moments and then, as she’d expected, a door opened and the girl stepped out on to the corridor, looked both ways and then hurried on up the stairs towards the next level of the house. Dreggo gave her a few moments and then followed.

  Just as she reached the landing halfway up, where the stairs turned back on themselves, she heard another door opening below her. She froze again, listening for the creak of the stairs.

  Nothing.

  The girl had reached the corridor above. Dreggo climbed to the top of the stairs and peered around the corner of the wall. The girl was about halfway along the corridor, peeking through a keyhole.

  ‘Simon?’ Dreggo heard the girl whisper. ‘Where are you?’

  Dreggo felt a brief pang of guilt for what she was about to do, but she brushed the feeling away. Why should they live? Why did they deserve it more than her?

  The girl had reached a door near the end of the corridor when Dreggo saw her expression change. Relief crossed her face as she opened the door a crack and leaned in. A moment later she slipped inside and closed it behind her.

  Dreggo trotted down the corridor and leaned close to the door, listening. Inside, she heard their voices.

  From her belt she pulled a long, serrated knife.

  #

  Simon was lying on his back in the bed, his eyes half closed. Jess felt her heart race at the sight of him. He was a little beaten up, his face crisscrossed with band-aids, but he was breathing. That was enough for her.

  A blanket covered his body but one arm was exposed, a tube attached to a drip bag feeding into his arm. Jess could also see one of his feet, with bandages wrapped around the ankle. Her heart sunk; if he couldn’t walk they would have a problem.

  ‘Is that you, Jess?’

  Jess started. She hadn’t realised he’d been watching her the whole time she’d been standing and staring at him.

  ‘Simon, oh thank God . . .’

  He smiled weakly. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’

  She smiled. ‘Yeah, me too.’

  ‘Come closer.’

  She moved around to the side of the bed and he lifted up his hand to take hers. ‘I didn’t know if I’d ever find you,’ she said.

  ‘You came after me? Where are the others?’

  ‘In Bristol now, I hope. Simon we’ve got to go –’

  Even as she spoke his eyes widened, but before he could speak Jess felt something cold at her neck, and a strong, inhuman arm wrapping across her chest.

  ‘Isn’t this sweet?’ Dreggo sneered, her mutilated face close to Jess’s. ‘A lover’s reunion!’

  Simon tried to rise, but his body was weak from the medication and his injuries. ‘Let her go –’

  ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be joining her soon.’ Dreggo jerked Jess’s head back. The girl struggled, one arm trying to reach Dreggo’s belt, but Dreggo hauled her backwards across the room.

  ‘I gave you a choice, and you chose wrong. You’ll pay for what happened to me. All of you will.’

  Jess squirmed again. She tried to twist away, heedless of the knife at her throat. She figured that Dreggo was going to kill her anyway, so she had nothing to lose. Twisting back towards Simon, she tried to reach for Dreggo’s belt again. As she looked down, she saw the bottom of the door shift forward an inch.

  ‘Stop struggling, bitch,’ Dreggo spat. ‘I wanted your boyfriend to enjoy this, but I guess I’ll have to make it quick –’

  Dreggo screamed and jerked backwards. Her arm dropped from Jess’s chest and Jess fell forward towards Simon’s bed. She twisted round, reaching for her crossbow, and saw a boy, maybe no more than sixteen, jabbing a long metal pole into Dreggo’s back.

  ‘Get Simon and run!’ the boy shouted.

  ‘Who . . . ?’

  ‘Carl,’ Simon muttered. There was something wry in his voice, as though Carl’s sudden appearance hadn’t surprised him at all.

  Jess looked towards him. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Try!’ Carl screamed, jabbing Dreggo again with the metal pole, this time in the neck. Jess heard a crackle of electricity and Dreggo screamed as she tried to roll out of range. She groaned, twitched, and was still.

  ‘Come on!’ Jess pulled the tube out of Simon’s arm and pulled him upright. ‘We have to go, Simon. We have to go now.’

  She hauled him up out of the bed and pulled one arm over his shoulder. He was wearing his own spare clothes, but she could see a mound of padding around his shoulder where someone had patched up his crossbow wound. She hoped they’d done a good job of it.

  The boy, Carl, took Simon’s other arm. ‘He’s drowsy from the medication,’ Carl said. ‘We weren’t expecting anyone to come and pick him up so soon.’

  Jess glanced at him. The boy almost appeared to be smiling. ‘Um, thanks.’

  ‘Are you Jess?’

  ‘Yes, but how did you –’

  ‘He talked about you. A lot.’

  Jess found herself smiling back. ‘We have to hurry,’ she said as they reached the stairs and started down.

  ‘What on earth is that thing back there?’ Carl jerked a thumb back over his free shoulder. ‘I saw it – her, whatever – outside. Obviously she wasn’t after me or I’d be dead now.’

  ‘Her name’s Dreggo,’ Jess said. She didn’t say that they’d left Dreggo for dead. ‘I don’t know what she’s doing here, but –’

  They stopped as a howl that sounded like metal scraping on metal echoed through the house. Jess’s blood seemed to run cold. Her heart hammered in her chest and she wondered just how they were going to get out of this. One nightmare kept being replaced by another.

  ‘What’s that?’ Carl gasped.

  Jess started to move again, forcing her legs to move before they turned to jelly and failed all of them. ‘I don’t think you want to know, but I’ve got a terrible feeling that it came with her.’

  ‘That cyborg woman?’

  Jess had noticed the metal on Dreggo’s face. Someone had taken her away and fixed her up like the Huntsmen, and it was obvious who. That they should be here together could hardly be coincidence.

  ‘Carl, we have to get away, otherwise many people could die, including you. We need transport of some kind.’

  ‘We have a car, but father took it out this morning. There aren’t any buses or anything, only the trains, but they don’t stop.’

  ‘Did Simon tell you how we were on the train?’

  ‘Yes, you hung.’ He pointed with his free hand at the clawboards poking out of her bag. ‘With those things. He said they’re called clawboards.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Simon’s ankle?’ Jess asked. ‘Is it broken?’

  ‘No, Rhodes – that’s our doctor – said it’s just a sprain. He might be able to walk but he won’t be able to run.’

  ‘Shit.’ They had reached the back door. ‘He has to be able to run,’ Jess said. ‘He has to. He can’t get back on the train otherwise. It’s the only way!’

  ‘With that ankle, there’s no wa – wait! I know! I have just the thing
!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Get down into the woods. Go straight through the back garden, and keep going straight. There’s half a path, but if you lose it keep heading in the same direction. When you get to the ruined village, follow the remains of the road past the old post office. It leads to an old station.’

  ‘Thanks, but what about you?’

  ‘Wait for me there.’

  Jess nodded. Carl’s eyes were bright, exhilarated, as though this were some wild storybook adventure. She wanted to tell him that this wasn’t a game, that people had and would soon die, when another terrible scream came from an outbuilding not far from them.

  ‘Bugger,’ Carl said. ‘That’s the cattle barn. Sounds like something’s in there with the cows. Best get going before it comes out.’

  ‘Huntsmen,’ Jess whispered, before she realised what she was saying.

  ‘You have Huntsmen after you? Are they even real?’ When Jess nodded he said, ‘Holy crap. What did you do?’

  ‘No time to explain. Thanks, Carl, for everything you’ve done.’

  The sound of a car engine joined the commotion coming from the barn. Jess glanced up to see the vehicle swing around a gravel driveway at the side of the house and slide to a halt not far from them.

  ‘That’s my father,’ Carl said. ‘Perhaps he can help.’

  Four doors opened and a group of men climbed out. Two other cars pulled up behind the first and they heard another stopping around at the front of the house.

  ‘Hey! There they are! They’ve got my son!’

  ‘No, father –’

  One of the men cocked a shotgun. The first man shouted, ‘The girl’s got the boy! Take her first, we’ll question him later.’

  ‘Run!’ Carl hissed, pushing Jess towards a gap between the outbuildings and the house that opened out into a manicured garden. ‘Don’t stop until you get to that station!’

  ‘Simon, you’re going to have to forget about me carrying you,’ Jess said, slipping out from under his shoulder. ‘I’ll find us a place to rest, I promise.’

  ‘Stop, or we’ll shoot you dead like the city dogs you are!’

  ‘Father, no!’

  The men started across the open driveway. To their left stood the house, to their right was the clutch of outbuildings. They’d taken no more than a couple of steps when the back door of the house broke open and Dreggo stumbled out, one hand on her forehead, the other clutching a crossbow.

  #

  Carl was quickly descending into a nightmare. He saw the woman’s weapon, and remembered the bolt Rhodes had taken out of Simon. He pointed. ‘Shoot her, father! Shoot the robot woman!’

  One of the men raised his gun without hesitation. He fired at Dreggo, the bullet narrowly missing her as she swayed sideways and dropped to her knees. The bullet hit the stone wall near to the door.

  ‘Weston, we need the police!’ another man shouted.

  Behind Carl, Jess and Simon were halfway across to the trees. He no longer had the cattle prod he’d used to stun Dreggo, and he felt naked without any kind of weapon. Dreggo was less than twenty feet away. If he didn’t move and no one shot her, she’d be on him in a few seconds. He stared, shocked, as Dreggo bared her teeth like some kind of animal. With her half metal face and the crossbow in her hand, she was like a cyborg she-devil out of a comic book. He couldn’t move.

  Dreggo suddenly looked away. She glanced back towards the group of men, most of which had taken cover behind their cars. Carl counted at least ten. He knew most of them; they were his father’s hunting companions, poker friends and a couple of farm hands. Most were good with a gun.

  ‘Huntsmen! To me!’ Dreggo screamed. Carl heard a growl in response, and looked behind him to see something leap up and over the barn gate and dash towards them. Two others followed behind it. At first he thought they were very tall priests, in their brown robes with the cowls that covered their faces, and then he saw the twisted claws that should have been hands, heard the slavering growl of what sounded like dogs, saw the silver crossbows that hung at their waists.

  ‘Weston! We’ve got to get out of here!’

  ‘Shoot the devils!’

  Carl loved his father, in a way. He’d suffered badly in the name of discipline over the years: regular split lips, the occasional black eye, and one particularly bad time he had lost a tooth. Yet, still, Roy was the only father Carl had ever known, and his lack of close friends meant no comparisons. Abusive monster though he sometimes was, Carl didn’t want him to see him die.

  Tears sprang to Carl’s eyes as the Huntsmen leapt to the attack, howling beneath Dreggo’s haggard battle cry: ‘Kill them all!’ He watched the men lift their guns and fire practically into the Huntsmen’s faces, saw one fall back, its face a mess of broken bone, blood and metal. But he watched the other two keep on, charging into the midst of his father’s friends, their crossbows firing, their claws and their teeth ripping and tearing. He heard the screams of his father and the other men, saw their blood, watched them fall, watched them die.

  He was transfixed for what felt like hours, but was little more than a few seconds in real time. In that time, though, watching the one-sided slaughter, he knew that he had to run, or he too would die. He also knew that if he just headed for the woods after Jess and Simon, they would all die. He had something that could save them, something which could get them back on the train, and he needed it.

  While Dreggo’s attention was fixed on her murdering Huntsmen, Carl slipped around behind her, ran around the side of the house, and pulled open the door to the basement.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Repression, Production

  ‘Man, Stevie, you don’t know how it makes me feel to see you again. It’s like there was this bulb inside just burning low, you know. Now it’s just flared up again and I feel damn fine.’

  ‘You too, Unc.’ Switch sipped from the can of beer William had given him. It was a little old and tasted slightly vinegary, but it was still beer, a rarity. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’

  ‘I never forgave myself you know, for letting them take you.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Unc. Shit happens, we both know it. But it all comes back around and this time it’s us ready with the shafting rod.’

  William laughed. He brushed away tears and they clinked glasses. ‘I always thought I might see you again, Stevie,’ he said. ‘You just had too much to just give in. The system just couldn’t break you.’

  ‘And I ain’t about to give up yet.’

  ‘I’m amazed you still remembered where we hid out,’ William said. ‘You’ve been gone almost ten years.’

  ‘I’m amazed you were still here.’

  ‘We thought about it, but the UMF didn’t have anywhere better to be. The DCA don’t have the same power here and unless we made a move they wouldn’t spare the resources to search for us. We’ve mostly been stockpiling arms and extending our network. It’s only recently that we’ve engaged in any live action.’

  ‘What’s that you’re calling yourselves now?’

  ‘The UMF. The Underground Movement for Freedom. We felt we needed to put a name to it.’

  ‘The umph.’ Switch grinned. ‘I guess it has a ring.’

  William grinned even wider than Switch had done. ‘Boy, you’re a hoot. We prefer the U-M-F, but whatever gets people going, I guess. You tell your friends about us?’

  ‘I only tell the others what they need to know. It’s safer that way. They get caught, there’s nothing they can say. Interrogators are paid to know when someone’s lying . . . and when someone’s not.’

  ‘Kid, you get more like me every day.’

  They were sitting in the front row of the old theatre, a dark and dusty stage in front of them, lit only by a couple of bare bulbs hung against the back wall. The whole setting had an expectant feel to it, as though a troupe of dancers might suddenly burst out of the wings at any moment, though Switch knew from the layer of dust around his feet that no one h
ad used this theatre for entertainment in many years.

  Earlier this morning, Switch had got up and gone looking for his uncle, leaving the others asleep. William had been easy to find; he’d been down in the armoury, assigning weapons to a group of men.

  ‘You scared, Stevie?’ William asked. ‘About the gate?’

  Switch had been drilled on how the Tube Riders were getting out of Bristol. Ishael’s men had made their preparations and plans had been put into action. Within the next few hours, if things panned out as Ishael and William hoped, the Tube Riders would be out of the city and heading down towards Cornwall, equipped with a radio that Ishael and William could reach them on with further instructions. William had been cagey on how they planned to get the Tube Riders out of the country; for the same reason Switch didn’t tell the others his plans.

  ‘I’m fine, Unc. I’m more worried about you. If you attack the Huntsmen a lot of UMF men are gonna to die. And plus, I’ve only just found you again. You sure you can’t come with us?’

  ‘Stevie, man, my place is here. Looking after things. Just make sure you keep yourselves alive long enough for that information to get into the right hands, and I know we’ll see each other again.’

  ‘Why the fuck do you have to attack them?’ Even Switch, the most confrontational of people, knew that Ishael’s men couldn’t hope to do more than stall the Huntsmen. They were simply too strong. Throw that smoke bomb, run and hide. That was the way he liked it.

  ‘We attack on our own terms or they attack on theirs. Don’t worry about us. We have a few surprises up our sleeves, and even if they do break through, they’ll never find us. There are safe houses, sink holes. Places we can hide. They’re not looking for us, remember, they’re looking for you. We just need to give you and your friends a head start, and I hope that one day, when this government is on its fucking knees, that me and you can have more than just a couple of beers together.’