The Tube Riders

by Chris Ward

  ‘How do you survive?’

  ‘Anyway we can.’

  ‘And the children? Were they failed experiments too?’

  ‘Some of the older ones. The younger ones, though, they’re ours.’

  Ishael was surprised. It obviously showed in his face, because Jin said, ‘Not all of us can, but there are more than you might think who can still carry out normal human functions. Like childbirth.’ He dipped the towel into a bucket of water at his feet. ‘One of my children – Brete – was dumped here as a Mistake. The other, Tom, is ours by birth.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’

  ‘It’s a life many of us never thought we’d have.’

  Ishael was silent for a moment. He dipped a rag of his own into the bucket, and mopped his own face.

  ‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ Jin said.

  ‘Reeder . . . he was a good man. I didn’t know him very well, but he gave up everything he had to help us.’

  ‘Then than makes him as good a man as any.’

  ‘You’re right about that.’ Ishael sighed. ‘Thank you for what you did for us. We’d all be dead now if it wasn’t for you.’

  ‘We’re wary of anyone we don’t know,’ Jin said. ‘Wildmen come into our village in many guises. But we haven’t lost our humanity.’

  ‘I’m afraid we might bring worse down on you,’ Ishael said, and briefly recounted what had happened. ‘We have to get to Lizard Point,’ he said. ‘There’s a tunnel there that we can take that will hopefully take us under the Channel to France. We have evidence that could bring war to Mega Britain, and with it, freedom.’

  ‘While I don’t envy the war, I think everyone wants freedom.’ Jin was thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, ‘We have vehicles. We can take you up to Lizard Point at first light. Before then it’s dangerous to go outside. The Mistakes tend to calm down a little more during daylight.’

  ‘What about the Huntsmen?’

  Jin smiled. ‘How many did you say there were? Ten? Fifteen? Don’t worry about them. The Redman can deal with them.’

  ‘The Redman . . . you mean that giant?’

  ‘He might look fearsome, but his mind is mostly human. In return for the care we give him, he protects us.’ Jin smiled. ‘There are some pretty dangerous Wildmen behind the fence, but nothing is a match for a raging Redman. Not Huntsmen, not the Governor himself even.’

  ‘That’s a bold statement.’

  ‘One you might agree with after seeing him in action.’

  Ishael considered. ‘He looked powerful, for sure. But against an organised assault, he’d be just another monster waiting to be tied down.’

  Jin cocked his head, still smiling. ‘The Redman is far more intelligent than you give him credit for. A group of Redmen could bring down the government.’

  Ishael listened carefully. In his mind, plans began to form. ‘It’s a shame you don’t have more of them.’

  Jin looked regretful. ‘There are others about. One of the problems with Redmen is that they’re territorial. When the government filled those babies with growth hormones and animal genes and whatever else, they accidentally put in something that makes them fight each other. The government found that out the first time they tried to use them, which is why the survivors got dumped in here.’

  ‘Unfortunate.’

  ‘It is. But our scientists are working on it.’

  Ishael was shocked. ‘You have scientists?’

  ‘When you spend the best years of your life as a damn lab rat, it’s not surprising many people want to know what happened to them. Our technology is primitive, built up from nothing. There are other towns with bigger projects going on, but travel is pretty difficult because of the Wildmen. We have few working cars, and a rail line we tried to put down suffered from constant attacks.’ He shrugged. ‘But we’re getting there.’

  Ishael sat back in his chair. It was a like a microcosm of social evolution happening right under the government’s nose. The government was throwing away its scientific detritus and that detritus was building itself up into a functioning society, one that was developing awareness and strength. One that could be a huge asset in the event of a war.

  ‘Do you go beyond The Fence?’ he asked.

  ‘There are some tunnels. But like I say, it’s difficult to travel safely. For every rationally functioning near-human that gets put inside, there are five Wildmen. Most of the good men don’t make it as far as the towns, though we try to keep a watch on the main depositing points as much as we can.’ He stared at Ishael for a few seconds. ‘Life is hard here, don’t get me wrong. But from what I remember, it’s not that great on the other side of that fence, either.’

  Ishael said, ‘Back in Bristol I was the leader of the Underground Movement for Freedom. We have guns, and men. If your men can be organised into a fighting machine, then we can be ready to strike from inside if help comes from Europe.’

  Jin laughed. ‘You have grand ideas, my friend, and believe me, we’d like nothing more than to see that bastard cut down from his perch.’

  Ishael said the words before he really understood what he was saying: ‘I can help you. The UMF’s network is far-reaching. We have small outposts in most of the major UAs.’

  Jin looked at him. ‘You’d leave the girl for us?’

  ‘Who . . .’ but Ishael knew he meant Marta. Staying would mean letting her go alone. He didn’t know what might happen between them, but if he stayed behind he might never see her again.

  Ishael stood up and walked away, going to a window and peering through the glass and the bars into the night. A couple of dim streetlamps burned in the square, but it was otherwise empty.

  Could he leave her?

  He had grown up a revolutionary, living in tunnels and in basements, attics and sewers. Everyone he’d ever loved was dead, and for as long as he could remember his life had centred on ways to remove the oppression in Mega Britain. Ways to bring down the government. Here, among these people, these Free Folk, he’d found another link, another wedge that if sharpened could be driven into Mega Britain’s charred and polluted heart. But if he stayed behind to help organise it and shape it, he would be giving up on someone who had come to mean a lot to him over the last few days. A lot more than he had realised.

  Leaving Jin to finish cleaning up, Ishael went out and back down to the basement room. He went inside and closed the door. Marta was awake, sitting back against the wall, staring at the floor.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, sitting down beside her and taking her hand.

  ‘I’m so tired,’ she said. ‘I just can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I just see death. Everywhere.’

  ‘John Reeder was brave,’ Ishael said. ‘And so was Simon. This thing is almost over. A few more hours and you’ll be through that tunnel into France.’

  She was weary, but she caught his words immediately. ‘You said ‘you’, Ishael. You’re not coming, are you?’

  She was astute. You had to be to survive in Mega Britain, but still she impressed him.

  He took her chin in his hand and bent her head towards him. He pushed a dread of hair away from her eyes, and stroked the side of her face. ‘I think . . . I think I . . .’

  ‘Damn you, Ishael. Don’t you dare say it.’

  ‘Marta . . . I . . .’

  She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed him away. ‘Why do you have to stay?’

  ‘I can help them get organised. I can make them into an army. When you bring men from Europe we can strike from inside too.’

  ‘Why can’t they do that for themselves? Why do you have to leave me?’

  ‘We’ll see each other again,’ he said, hoping his words sounded sure.

  ‘No, we won’t! I’ll be just like when Simon fell from that fucking train! Over! You’ll die, or I’ll die or . . .’ her voice tailed off as he took her in his arms and pulled her close. She sobbed as he kissed her, his bruises smarting but his lips desperate, his tongue searching. She melted into him, crying as she pull
ed the blanket over them.

  ‘Don’t leave me,’ she cried, tears streaming down her face as she pulled his hands around her body and slipped her own hands under his clothes.

  #

  Ishael was sleeping quietly beside her when Marta woke. She looked down at him, naked under the blanket, and she felt tears well up in her eyes again. Angrily, she brushed them away and climbed to her feet, pulling her own clothes back on, the dampness of old sweat unpleasant on her skin.

  She needed some air, and she needed to be alone. Too much was going through her head.

  She went outside, closing the door quietly behind her. She went up the stairs, past other rooms where people were sleeping or talking in hushed tones. She saw Owen and Carl sleeping inside an old cell, a couple of other people lying down beside them.

  At the top of the stairs the main door was open. Two men stood guard, peering out into the night.

  ‘Is it safe?’ she asked. ‘I really need some fresh air.’

  The Wildmen have gone,’ one guard said. ‘We’ve checked the perimeters, and secured the town, but a lot of people like to stay inside the safe houses, just in case.’

  ‘If you go outside, just don’t make any noise,’ the other added. ‘Don’t stray too far from the safe house.’

  ‘Sure, no problem.’

  She stepped out into the square, immediately letting out a tiny gasp as she found the huge Redman sitting just outside, leaning back against an old monument. He watched her through big eyes, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths. He was even more impressive at rest, close to three times her height, his legs and arms as thick as tree trunks, his fingers alone almost the length of her arms.

  They watched each other. Marta noticed blood on the Redman’s waistcoat.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ she asked.

  The Redman’s table-sized head rocked slowly back and forth. ‘A couple of scratches,’ he said, in a deep voice that was surprisingly human. ‘Always, just a couple of scratches. They can’t hurt Redman.’

  ‘I’m happy you’re safe.’

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  Marta smiled. ‘Me too.’ She nodded left, towards a quiet street that was well lit, heading up towards what looked like a smaller square with a water fountain. ‘I just need a little walk. It’s been a long day.’

  The Redman nodded. ‘Keep eyes open. Be safe.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Marta headed off, a thousand conflicting thoughts buzzing through her head like flies, and just for a moment she wished they would all clear off long enough for her to enjoy the moonlit night and the peace of what had once been a tranquil little country town.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Reunion

  Leo’s chest heaved as he came to a stop, several miles of running making his legs and feet throb. Up ahead of him the lights of the town rose up out of the trees. He’d heard sounds of a commotion before, but the battle or whatever it was had died down now, and as he crept closer through the trees he could hear nothing but the occasional hoot of an owl.

  He froze, sensing something standing close to him in the darkness. It was one of the failed people, one who never made it to be a Huntsman. The figure was a few feet away, not moving, its back to him.

  Leo took two quick steps forward and broke the man’s neck, then lowered the body quietly to the ground.

  Sleeping, resting or not, dangerous creatures became enemies on waking. It was best to have them eliminated.

  He approached the first houses, dropping on to his belly to crawl through the last undergrowth before he reached a clearing illuminated by a large spotlight attached to a pole about twenty feet in the air. Across the clearing the town started. He could see a thin alleyway ahead of him, blocked only by a barbed wire fence.

  Leo assessed the situation. The creatures in the forest had attacked the creatures in the town, something that happened regularly he assumed, given the spotlights and the barbed wire that hung across the spaces between the houses. From what he’d seen though, the creatures attacked wildly with careless abandon. No one would expect someone to use stealth.

  Huntsmen, too, had problems with stealth sometimes, especially during periods of hunger. But Leo was remembering a time before he used to be a Huntsman, when he’d had better control of himself. On his stomach, he crawled across the clearing and found a space beneath the wire to squeeze through.

  He followed the alleyway to a junction, where he paused and sniffed the air, his ears pricked for sounds of approach. Marta’s scent led off to the left, but as he turned his head back and forth he caught wind of a fresher scent coming from the right. He turned that way, walking slowly with his hood up, appearing to anyone who noticed like another of the townsfolk returning home.

  He had expected to have to kill or break into buildings to get at her, but as he turned another corner, he was surprised to see her, standing a few hundred feet away next to a dry fountain, one hand trailing in the basin where water had once fallen.

  Marta, his sister. He felt a lump in his chest pushing up into his throat, and a low growl escaped his lips.

  To him, she was beautifully human, a living memory of his past that the government had failed to erase. But to her, he was still a Huntsman, and he knew it would be difficult to get close without her raising the alarm.

  Leo moved towards the nearest buildings, stepping into the shadows where he was unlikely to be seen, and began his approach.

  #

  ‘He’s gone, sir,’ Dreggo said, jogging up to the Governor as he stood near the top of the ramp down into the tunnel. ‘The Huntsman Lyen, the one who used to be Leo Banks.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s ignoring my instructions and he won’t respond. I can hear him, but he’s blocking his thoughts. He’s distant though. I think he’s gone after her.’

  ‘His sister?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The Governor frowned. ‘This is . . . unexpected. We may have to change our plans.’

  ‘Sir, I think he’s heading into the village to warn her.’

  The Governor’s white face flushed with anger. ‘We cannot have that. We may have to abort the trap and take them in the town. At worst they will come running here. There is nowhere else for them to go.’

  Dreggo closed her eyes and concentrated. ‘Sir, I can . . . feel the Mistakes. The ones in the forest. I can sense something has happened.’

  The Governor looked hard at her. ‘Can you control them?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . maybe.’

  The Governor’s eyes blazed. ‘Do it. Call forth their rage, Dreggo. Bring them down on that town with fire in their eyes and hate in their hearts. And while chaos ensues, we will capture the Tube Riders and finish this.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Do what you can, Dreggo. Act quickly.’

  Dreggo moved off as the Governor called out for Clayton to assemble his men. She closed her eyes and sent her thoughts out to the Huntsmen and to the people who had almost been Huntsmen. She called forth their anger, sought out their rage. And distantly, through her mind, she heard them begin to respond.

  ‘My Huntsmen . . . I command you to go to war,’ she whispered aloud. Around her she heard their minds spark into life, their bodies begin to move as they turned and sprinted through the trees, back in the direction of the dirt road and beyond it, five or six miles away, the town where the Tube Riders were hiding.

  And among the nearby fields and the forests, she felt a buzz rise into the air as hundreds of shattered human minds began to boil with anger, brush away the pain of their wounds, and turn their thoughts to one last assault on the people who had hurt them.

  #

  Switch was having a good day. Lying in the grass feigning death not far from where the Huntsmen and the DCA agents patrolled, he watched with surprise as the men began to climb up into the trucks which then turned around and headed back down the road away from the tunnel entrance.

  A rally driver, a sailor, a mo
vie extra . . . damn I was a busy boy before I ended up as a scrawny little street kid with a jippy eye.

  He was soaked in the blood of a Mistake he had killed, his clothes doused, his hair, his face, his hands sticky with it. It stank beyond belief, to the point where he had retched until his stomach was empty of the last of Reeder’s breakfast and then some, but the ruse had worked. He’d overheard Clayton telling the Governor he thought there were Mistakes in the tunnel, and a Huntsman had patrolled just a few feet to the left of where he lay still without giving him more than a brief glance.

  But now they were all leaving. There were two agents up on the hill, covering the entrance with sniper rifles, but he would easily kill them once the others were gone. Where were they going? What had happened back in the village to cause them to leave?

  He sensed the others were in danger, but at the least their urgency and the leaving of the guards meant his friends were still alive. He had to help them, but first of all he had to secure the tunnel entrance.

  Pulling a knife from his pocket, he began to shimmy through the long grass like a deadly snake, towards where the land began to rise.

  #

  Leo knew it was almost too late when the cacophony began behind him. He let his mind relax and the sounds flooded in, the Mistakes in the forest creating a backdrop to the roars of the Huntsmen, and above it all, the shrieking commands of Dreggo, their assumed leader. They were coming, all of them, and within minutes the village would be turned into a battle zone for a second time this night.