Tube Riders, The (19 page)

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Authors: Chris Ward

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Dystopian, #Genetic Engineering, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Tube Riders, The
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‘Where the hell did he get a nail gun?’ Simon asked, holding on to Jess, who was trying to rush out and join the fight.

‘Get off me, Simon!’

Vincent’s gun went off again, impossibly loud, the bullet ricocheting off the ground just inches from Switch, who was still rolling across the platform. Vincent was hurt but not dead; Switch had just bought them a little time.

‘Fuck this …
ahhhh
… just
kill them!

Gunshots cracked from the other direction. Paul and Simon moved to the other side of the alcove, crouched low, clawboards held like clubs. Jess had pulled a huge bread knife out of her bag and passed another to an insanely grinning Owen. Marta reached under her shirt and grabbed her pepper spray can.

Switch rolled over the platform’s edge and down on to the track. Vincent was moaning in pain while trying to reload his gun. A train suddenly roared past and Marta gasped as it passed through where Switch had fallen.

‘Let’s rush them,’ Jess said behind her. ‘They’re scared. We have to take them before they call in the things again.’

As if in response, a gunshot cracked, and a small explosion of broken tiles and mortar from the roof showered them from above.

‘See?’ Jess said. ‘They can’t even aim.’

Marta stole another glance, this time back towards the front entrance. The two DCA agents were crouching at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the only way out.

She frowned as a shadow fell on the steps behind the two men. Huntsmen? She glanced out again. In the moment before she pulled her face out of sight of their guns, she saw what looked like a woman, being pulled along by something on a leash–

#

Dreggo had caught the Huntsman outside in St. Cannerwells Park. Blind, it had been stumbling about like a drunk down near the old pond, not far from a group of tramps drinking homebrewed spirits around a pile of burning benches and old chairs. Using the metal lid of a trashcan until she was close enough to use her knives, she’d battered the creature, finally sending it into some form of unconsciousness by smashing its head against the low wall that edged the pond. A piece of old rope made a suitable leash.

The buzzing in her head had told her all she needed to know, and she’d slipped back to St. Cannerwells and staked out the DCA units, themselves laying siege. She knew from the transmissions that the other Huntsmen had been called in and restrained. The signal had been faint, but she’d realised the fifth was still alive and getting closer, its receivers damaged but still following the mission. She didn’t know what had happened to it, but captured, it was a weapon unlike any other.

She’d failed to track the Tube Riders; their scent had been too faint. The Huntsman, however, had a stronger smell, one she knew well. She’d taken it by surprise; it hadn’t been hunting for her.

Its face was caked with blood and both its eyes were useless, but its sense of smell was as good as ever. Among her personal armoury was a police-issued stun-shocker, and with it tied to a piece of old railing she was able to keep the newly conscious Huntsman squirming at the end of the rope. It was damaged goods, but it was still far more dangerous than a gun.

The two men at the foot of the stairs didn’t even see it coming. They were focused on keeping the Tube Riders trapped, and the Huntsman had slashed the throat of one and torn the arm off the other almost before they knew it was there. One of them got a shot off, puncturing the Huntsman’s shoulder. The creature screamed in rage as its claws and teeth finished the man off.

‘Come out, Tube Riders,’ Dreggo shouted. She jabbed the Huntsman with her makeshift stun weapon. ‘Come out, it’s safe. I’m on your side now.’

#

Marta saw Dreggo descend the stairs, saw the captured Huntsman maul the two DCA agents and leave their bodies on the ground. She also heard what Dreggo said and realised they might have no choice but to trust her.

‘There’s another one!’ she shouted, and glanced back towards Vincent. The leader of the DCA was crawling towards them, gasping in pain as he dragged his injured leg. A trail of blood followed him, a dark shadow under the emergency lights.

‘What the bloody hell is going on here?’ Paul muttered.

‘Just keep down and wait for a chance,’ Simon answered.

‘This is like a computer game,’ was Owen’s contribution, while Jess stayed silent.

‘Hey, you! Drop your gun, or I loose this thing on you!’ Dreggo shouted at Vincent.

Marta glanced out to see Vincent lifting his gun. He aimed in Dreggo’s general direction and pulled the trigger, but instead of a gunshot there was just an empty click.

‘Ah, fuck,’ he muttered, and tossed the gun away.

‘Come out, Tube Riders,’ Dreggo repeated.

‘She doesn’t have a gun by the look of things,’ Paul said.

‘She has a whole lot worse,’ Jess said.

‘Let’s go.’ Marta stepped out into view. ‘What’s this about, Dreggo?’

The leader of the Cross Jumpers approached them with the Huntsman still ahead of her, crouched low to the ground. It looked more feral than the one that had chased Marta and Switch.

‘I think we can help each other,’ Dreggo said. ‘I want a way out of this city, and in exchange I can protect you.’

The others came up beside Marta. ‘Who says we need protection?’ Paul said.

‘You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me,’ Dreggo replied. ‘Or you would have been as soon as you tried to run.’ She came closer, prodding the Huntsman along in front of her.

‘That’s the one Paul got,’ Owen said, eyes filled with awe. ‘Man, you smashed it up bad.’

Dreggo moved past the Tube Riders, who backed off away from the Huntsman. Ten feet from Vincent, she stopped.

‘Looks like your plan didn’t quite work out,’ she said.

‘Who the fuck are you?’

Dreggo smiled. ‘Don’t you remember me? I’m the one that got away. Give my regards to your witchdoctor friends. We’ll be seeing you.’

‘Fuck you. Release that thing and get it over with.’

‘You really want me to?’ She let out a little slack and the Huntsman jerked forwards, jaws snapping, making Vincent flinch. Dreggo turned away. To the others she said, ‘Together we’ll be safer. I have a ... history with these people. I can use it to help –’

Marta gasped as a hand snaked up from below the platform edge and gripped Dreggo’s ankle, pulling hard. She cried out in surprise and fell backwards to the ground, the leash and the pole slipping out of her hands. For a moment everything seemed to freeze: Vincent, lying on the ground, wide-eyed; the Huntsman, crouched at Dreggo’s feet; Switch, climbing up off the tracks; Marta and the others, caught in the middle.

Everyone was staring at the Huntsman.

It hesitated just a second, as if deciding where the pain it remembered clearest had come from. Then it leapt at Dreggo, its claws and maw ripping and tearing. Dreggo screamed and tried to throw it off her. They rolled away across the platform. Dreggo, despite her strength, was no match for the incensed Huntsman.

‘Quick,’ Switch shouted. ‘We have to move
now
.’

‘What about him?’ Marta said.

‘Fuck him.’

‘We’ll catch you!’ Vincent shouted. ‘We’ll hunt you down–’

Owen stepped forward and kicked Vincent in the face. The DCA agent slumped back against the ground. ‘Just shut up, man…’

Switch grinned. ‘Nice footwork, little bro!’

‘Guys, this isn’t over!’

Marta pointed. The Huntsman had won the fight. Dreggo’s bloody, mutilated body lay limply on the dusty tiles. The beast pulled something out of the ruins of her clothes and turned back towards them, clawed hands gripping a silver crossbow. Switch said, ‘Its mission!’

The Huntsman’s blind head swung back and forth, nose twitching at the air. Then it stopped still, frozen. Slowly, its lips curled back in a snarl

‘I have an idea!’ Simon shouted. ‘Get across the tracks now!’

Paul pushed Owen in front of him. Simon grabbed Jess’s hand and pulled her behind him, though at first the girl seemed to want to stand and fight.

‘What about the DCA guy?’ Marta shouted to Switch, who was already across. She pointed at Vincent’s still body.

‘Forget him,’ Switch replied. ‘If it wants dessert, too bad.’

Marta was the last to jump. As she crossed over the tracks and landed heavily on the other side, she heard a whirring sound behind her, and looked back to see the Huntsman loading the crossbow.

‘There’s a train coming,’ Simon shouted, pointing at the tunnel where the faint glow of headlights had come on amid the growing roar of an engine. ‘Come on, you bastard, jump!’ He picked up a loose tile and threw it at the Huntsman. The tile struck the creature in the chest, and it jerked in Simon’s direction, teeth bared, the crossbow lifting. Simon took another step forward.

‘Come on!’ he shouted again. ‘It’s fucking Pancake Day, you bastard!’

‘Watch out!’ Marta said. ‘Don’t make it jump too soon!’

Jess and Switch had joined him in goading the Huntsman. It snarled again then bounded forward, the crossbow going off with a zipping sound as it leapt out over the tracks.

Simon’s body jerked. He screamed and staggered a few steps, then dropped to his knees. The Huntsman, more agile than they had expected, landed easily on their side of the platform with the train still back in the tunnel. Its free hand swiped at Jess, claws raking the air, the other still holding the crossbow. Simon now lay on the ground, clutching at his shoulder. Paul, nearest, swung his clawboard at it, only for the Huntsman to swat it away. Switch darted forward with a knife raised, but it was Owen, slipping behind the Huntsman and clubbing the back of its legs with Paul’s old clawboard which caused it to lose balance. As Switch’s knife flashed again, the Huntsman jerked backwards and fell out over the tracks, into the path of the train.

For a second the train’s warning horn sounded low and hollow. Then the Huntsman was gone as the train thundered past.

As the train rushed away, the others crowded around Simon. The crossbow bolt protruded from his right shoulder and his shirt was soaked with blood.

‘I’m okay, I’m fine,’ he whined, gritting his teeth.

‘Help him up,’ Marta said. ‘Can you still ride, Simon?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘We have to leave now.’

‘I know.’

Marta glanced at the others. Paul’s face was ashen, while Switch was busy picking bits of cloth out of the teeth of his knife. Owen was reliving the strike which led to the Huntsman’s death, while Jess was stone-faced, staring at Simon as though he were already dead. Marta felt cold inside looking at Jess; the girl she’d met earlier was gone, perhaps forever. But then, she reflected, perhaps there was a part of all of them that was gone now.

Behind them, across the track, Vincent had regained consciousness and was barking orders into a mobile phone. ‘They’re
here
. Quickly, free the rest of them!’

Jess turned away from Simon and picked the Huntsman’s crossbow up off the platform. She turned it over in her hands as though she were inspecting a piece of fruit. Then, with a brief shrug, she pulled a metal quarrel out of a pocket on the side, fed it into the crossbow’s mechanism and pressed a button. Marta heard a whirring sound and saw a metal spring drawing back. Jess looked up at the others, face blank. Without a word she turned and walked across to the trackside.

Marta followed her. ‘Don’t kill him,’ she said, meaning Vincent. ‘That makes us no better than them.’

‘Do you think I care? I
will
kill him, but he has to wait his turn.’

Marta followed Jess’s gaze down on to the tracks. What was left of the Huntsman lay there, across the rails. One arm was completely gone, and one leg from the knee down lay between the tracks about twenty feet in front of it. The other arm was mangled and half its torso hung open. Blood pumped out of a long chest wound. Marta saw wires and what looked like metal plating inside, alongside the tissues of a body that had once been human.

And yet it was still alive, its head trying to rise, a low groan coming from its throat.

‘Good God, what does it take to kill those things?’

Jess didn’t answer. Slowly, she lifted the crossbow. ‘For my mother and my father, for everyone else … die, you fucking …
prick
.’

She pulled the trigger. The bolt slammed into the Huntsman’s face just below the blinded eye. There was a popping sound followed by a crackle of electricity and then the monster was finally still.

Jess pulled out another bolt. Behind them came the sound of another approaching train.

‘This is our ride,’ Switch said.

‘I don’t leave until he’s dead,’ Jess replied, waving the crossbow at Vincent, who was cursing and grunting in pain as he tried to pull a nail out of his leg.

‘We don’t have time!’ Switch shouted. ‘Stay with him and die together if you fucking like, girl, but we have to go
now!
’ As Switch spoke, four dark shadows poured down the station steps, rushing across the platform towards them. Marta’s jaw dropped; it was like facing the door to Hell itself seeing the snapping, nightmarish horde come on, some moving like men, others bounding like dogs.

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