225

A supernatural force stalks the abandoned subway lines. Maintenance staff, security personnel and commuters alike are caught in a bloody disaster.

James Taylor`s pram bumped down each step in rapid repetitive motions forcing his head to bounce up and down comically, or so it seemed for if he were to lose interest in the intriguing movement before his twenty nine year old mother, Becky pushed him to the bottom of the stairs he would cry as loud as he could to tell her that the game was no longer any fun.

Becky looked around, her two older children, Robert: eight and Jennifer: seven, had run on ahead. Eager to meet their father who had been away nearly a week. David, her husband, had been transferred to a distant outback town, while she and the kids had been held back by her secretarial job. Of coarse with the usual grinding slowness of overworked personnel officers and their backed up computer files her own application for transference still hadn't returned.

So for the time being the Taylor family was doomed to spend the week apart only to dash down to the underground train station every Friday afternoon to greet him as he got off from a three and a half hour trip, tired but always grateful to be home.

David had called on the public phone as soon as he was on the train so they would know where to meet him, this time, platform 15 on the train numbered 2.2.5.

Becky carefully rolled the pram down the last few steps in time to see a blue and white train close all its doors simultaneously and start to move away, the bright red to pink digital read-outs placed at regular intervals along its side clearly said:

224 NORTHERN SUBURBS/NOR-EASTERN SUBURBS

Good, David`s train was next, now it was only a matter of about half a minute before he was among them again.

Becky waited among the commuters who had just arrived and the travelers who had forgone the 224 in vain hope that the next train would be less crowded - it wouldn't

`Mummy, where's the train?` Jenny`s sudden voice made Becky realize that the train was oddly overdue.

`I don't know, Honey.` Becky answered confused, it had been at least a minute and a half since the 224 had left and in the tunnels under the city, trains were rarely late. Too late and a it faced the possibility of being hit behind by the next train, maybe that was what had happened...

No. Becky forced all thoughts of an underground collision out of her mind, it couldn't happen, not when David was so close to home, it just couldn't.

Finally the lights of the next train could be seen way into the otherwise black tunnel ahead. `There it is.` Becky said to the children noting a definite tone of relief in her voice.

Jennifer and Robert leaned out further to see better and immediately Becky grabbed their arms, holding them back until the train was fully stopped.

As it approached, its headlights lit up the opposite wall and the line of people, each standing poised to race his fellows for a seat. Becky watched the doors to see which one David would come out when she saw one of the glowing red digital read-outs, it had the same destination but the number was 226.

Becky frowned, what happened to the 225? she craned her neck to see over the bustling commuters, David was nowhere to be found. The doors of the 226 whispered shut and it moved away.

`Mummy, where's Daddy?` Robert asked when the platform was clear enough to see he did not get off that train.

`I don't know.` Becky admitted getting more worried by the minute.

David wasn't on the next train.

Or the next.

`Well where the Hell is it?` Benjamin Smith, the man in charge of everything that goes on in the subway control room was not in the mood to restrict the normal colloquialisms sprinkled liberally throughout his vocabulary for the workplace.

`I can`t find it- it`s not there.` the anguished Tamnet operators words ran over each other.

Ben looked up at the giant Tamnet screen, the system that allowed by use of homing devices, tracked the movements of each train and then displayed their positions on a map half again as large as a man. Smith didn't know how the Tamnet system worked, but he did know that since it was installed, the risk of collisions had been almost nullified.

`Well, how could a whole train just disappear? Just like that? Off the radar?` Ben exclaimed, clicking his fingers to emphasize the unlikelihood of vanishing.

`Either out of range or someone's destroyed the homing device or maybe somethings tampering with the signal or I don't know, the systems so new we haven`t ironed out all the faults.` the operator answered.

Well it wasn't a fault in the system, platforms 15, 23 and 8 all claimed that train 225 was still overdue even after following trains passed, no driver said to have seen any wreckage as he passed the spot where the 225 was supposed to be and a train crashing by itself but leaving the track clear for the next train to pass unmolested was a ludicrous suggestion. How could someone destroy the homing device anyway? it was located between the front pair of wheels where nobody could get to it. Even if it was successfully disabled there was supposed to be another unit, one with less range but claimed to be able to withstand a bomb blast. There were no signals from either unit, for that matter, the radio was dead, train 225 couldn't even be reached by its public phone.

Ben ran his fingers through his slowly thinning hair, it was as though train 225 had disappeared off the face of the earth. but how? caught between 224 and 226 it had nowhere to go - Unless, Yes! The old system of tracks, when trains were slower and less organized, dozens of points led to branch lines to go to anywhere from anywhere, service lines, main lines, sidings, all disused for years by everyone except the rats. Some of these lines would have to be in condition at least.

Ben looked up at the Tamnet map, no, this map only showed lines in use, he looked up and bellowed:

`Malcolm!` his assistant. `Get me all the maps of the train lines in the general area- even the ones not in use.` even after all these years in the same job, he could still shout over anyone else he knew.

Ben Smith left the Tamnet operator who was still feverishly interfacing with his computer as if by mere keystroke the missing train and all its passengers would magically reappear. Over at his desk Mal had laid out the map of the line where 225 was supposed to be.

`God. There`s dozens of `em.` he breathed at the network of lines that lay over the page like an ancient spiderweb, constantly being built over. `It could have gone anywhere.` He removed his glasses and rubbed resignedly at his eyes.

Malcolm spoke up. `I have an idea.` Ben stopped rubbing his eyes and looked up waiting. `Its just that even though we put in the Tamnet we still had the old computer on line for a backup and it would document any point changes, even the old ones.` He looked about nervously like a child anticipating a beating.

Ben looked at him as if he should of had something else to say and then slowly: `Ok, lets have a look at it then.`

Mal jumped to the desktop terminal and had the file in a matter of keystrokes, obviously he had looked at it earlier but failed to mention it sooner, maybe Ben Smith was beginning to become a bit of a tough boss and was intimidating his subordinates to the point where they were hesitant to approach him with new ideas. Maybe in the future he should learn to be a bit more relaxed but later, this was an emergency.

`This is a pretty busy line so point changes halfway along are fairly rare.` Mal began. Ben strode around the desk so that he could see what Mal was looking at the only thing was:

Time Point Direction Notes

4:15:25 107 B 11 UNAUTHORIZED

4:15:35 107 M LINE UNAUTHORIZED

`So point one-oh-seven switched to branch line one-seventeen for ten seconds and then switched back.` Malcolm translated.

`Where does this branch line go?` Ben asked.

`Ummm,` he studied the map for a moment. `Line twenty three.`

Benjamin looked up at the Tamnet. `That line`s in use.` Thank God the trains were traveling in the same direction. `Then where?`

Malcolm was already on it, he called up another file and almost an identical message:

Time Point Direction Notes

4:15:47 87 B 8 UNAUTHORIZED

4:15:57 87 M LINE UNAUTHORIZED

Warming to the chase Ben said: `And where's branch eight-oh-three go?`

Tracing the so marked line with his index finger he stopped. `It goes further underground. A long, long way underground.`

`Damnit Damnit Damnit!` Joe Vaughan ground out between his teeth as the train slowed to a stop and the television screens displayed the usual apologies for the inconvenience and a promise that train 607 would be moving as soon as possible.

Bethany Williams studied her partners sudden anger for a moment, she wasn't surprised, actually she felt pretty ticked off at the delay herself, it was just that they were so close, so Damn close.

They had been keeping track of a highly successful drug dealer for about a month now as part of a token task force set up directly by the government to battle `escalating drug problems` but Bethany suspected to fight falling opinion polls. Still, it functioned as well as could be expected. The drug dealer Raymond Doust as far as they could tell felt he ran his business like any legitimate businessman, he wore expensive clothes and jewelry, owned about four or five expensive cars which he left at various parking stations or back streets but only kept one outside his fairly ordinary looking block of flats ( which he owned.) and that was what Joe and Beth used to their advantage when they finally had enough to bring him in for questioning.

They double parked in front of his Mercedes blocking his escape that way but he had been more resourceful than they expected. He ran across them in the hallway of his floor and recognized them (even though they were fairly unknown plain clothes police.) and dashed out though the fire stairs. Outdistancing the pair of them he burst onto the front lawn and finding his car blocked he decided to try his luck on foot running down the service alley around to the back of the block of flats.

Joe was out of the building barely before Beth arriving just in time to see a flash of red disappear around the corner, not waiting for his partner he ran on hoping to catch a more substantial glimpse of his quarry. Around the back of the flats was a bare concrete area with dilapidated looking clothes lines against an old wooden fence, behind that a train screeched to a halt. There was a station close by.

Raymond vaulted the fence into a barren yard with three pairs of railway lines piles of rubbish and bordered by fences of various sizes but all covered with graffiti. He ran across the tracks and climbed the wire fence over to the parking lot for the railway station.

Joe, and followed a bit further back by Bethany pursued the fugitive into the station where he boarded a waiting train seconds before the doors shut, the partners arrived in time to see the train moving away.

Winded but angry at their failure to bring him in they stubbornly refused to give in, waiting for the next train without thinking in hope that they may catch Doust yet.

But now it was hopeless, the realization that Raymond was a lost cause for today at least was infuriating for Bethany because she always felt an iron determination would get her to the end the victor, her parents had always called this a stubbornness that ran in the family, maybe her father could be described as stubborn but she was determined.

Still, it couldn't help now, they were stuck in this train and in the one ahead, Doust was safely out of reach but still as unmoving as the rest...

That was it! of coarse. There was still another chance of getting Raymond Doust. `C`mon.` She grabbed Joe`s arm and pulled him along towards the front of the train.

`What?` He asked.

`We can still get Doust, if these trains stay stopped.` They came to the end of the train where a lone seat faced the windshield, sitting on the seat a young man in uniform with the words `Subway Security` embroidered on a badge on his sleeve.

The `Driver` was not really the driver of the automated vehicles, he was just a guy paid to sit at the front of the train and man the radio and stop if there was a failure in the on board computer and act as a uniform policeman to help out lost kids and stop vandals.

Beth flashed her badge as did Joe and asked: `How long do you think we`ll be stopped?`

He shrugged his shoulders. `Hours. Maybe.`

`Look, we need to get onto the train ahead before it gets to the next station.` Beth stated. `Is that possible?`

He considered the request for a moment and then as he reached for the radio, `I think I better talk to the control room and see what they think.`

And so it was organized. Joe stepped off the train and looked around, the tunnel was well lit and the security cameras that control said would follow their movements glinted dully in the fluorescent light. Something about this tunnel was wrong, Joe could feel it though he couldn't explain what made him feel weird. Bethany was walking on ahead fearlessly and Joe shamed himself into following dutifully but he could not shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Beth walked into a patch where the light overhead was out and the darkness seemed to swallow her up like a hungry animal, Joe, following walked into the darkness that seemed to reach out for him with tiny tendrils of blackness to draw him deeper inside...

Malcolm`s wire rimmed glasses reflected his computer screen. `Ok, I've isolated all the power below branch eight-oh-three, we can restore power to the rest of the sector.`

`Good.` Ben said. He looked up at his second assistant, Jane, who was standing nearby.`Put all the power back into the trains- but make sure those cops are back.` She ran off and Ben turned his attention back to the map Mal had just bought in, the lower levels. This station catered for two main lines, each with two tracks so that trains could run in both directions simultaneously, once there was need for three main lines and the third was below, there were also storage yards and train maintenance bays and return loops which had all become redundant since the station had failed to be a main station anymore.

All of the unused track still lay down there, some was in disrepair, some would still function, Ben was certain that the missing train was deliberately stolen, its signal carefully masked and its passengers unwittingly taken deeper into the earth, not knowing the danger they were in until it was too late. Where the Hell were those Security personnel?

Ben looked up at the Tamnet map. `Why the Hell aren`t the trains on line twenty three moving yet?` He yelled to everybody who was supposed to be dealing with the restart of the lines.

Jane ran up to him. `There's a problem.` she stammered.

`What now?`

`We've lost contact with the police officers.`

`How?`

`I don't know.` She shrugged.`The cameras just seem to have gone dead.`

`All of them?` He gasped.

`No just the ones between six-oh-six and six-oh-seven.... where the police officers are.`

Ben clenched his fists, he should never have authorized letting them off that train, now its just compounding the first problem. `You had better show me the tapes.`

Jane led him to the corner of the control room where the wall was covered in video screens, the operator had it ready and played it as soon as they got there.

`Here.` he indicated six screens all with different images of the tunnel, the far right had the front of a train marked 607 and from this stepped two individuals, they walked purposefully to the other side of the screen and were out of view for a moment, seconds later they appeared walking across the second screen past a giant air duct, soon they were out of sight of that camera too, a moment later appearing in the third cameras view, after a while they were walking across the forth screen and the operator said: `Now watch this.` He pointed at the second screen.

Nothing happened for a moment and then suddenly dirt and bits of rubbish scattered from around the air duct as if the air was blowing out from it instead of in like it was supposed to, it got stronger as the metal slats bent and buckled under the forceful winds until they finally popped out and Ben knew something was in there, he couldn't see anything except that garbage was being flung about and suddenly the camera cut out leaving snow on the screen.

The winds seemed to be affecting the area that the third camera was focused on, bits of metal thrashed around and then that screen was covered in snow, the second camera to mysteriously come off line.

The police had by now become aware of the weird winds and turned around confused, Ben saw the next screen hiss into snow. `Run Damnit.` Ben ground under his breath even though this was a replay of past events. The winds whipped around the two police officers and then that camera was enveloped in snow. The young plainclothes officers were gone. Ben stared at the only two still operating cameras, the first with the front of the 607 and the sixth with the rear of the 606 standing waiting patiently for permission to move.

`God.` Ben breathed, `What the Hell`s going on?`

Something had to be done. Ben turned to Jane, `Right I want The six-oh-seven to crawl along looking for anything that may have been left on the track, maybe they were knocked unconscious by all that garbage flying around and the same with the cameras.`

Jane was very white. `But how could something like that happen?`

`I don't know.` He looked away. `Maybe a freak gust of wind or something, I`m sure it will all be explained in a week or two, just give the orders to the trains. Everything will be fine.` He assured her but as she walked away he wondered if it really would be. Something big was going on and Ben had a feeling that the disappearance of the 225 had something to do with this separate seeming incident, this was going to be a bad night.

`Benjamin Smith!` A loud voice bellowed out his name, Ben looked up to see the florid face of Wal Davidson, the head of the Security personnel, a good man whose only fault was a short temper ( which he never lost around Ben.) at last something was going right. These men were trained for this sort of situation and Ben was certain that there would be no problem in finding the missing train now.

Becky Taylor knew something was going wrong here. First, David`s train doesn't show up as if there was no train meant to be there and then no trains show up at all for a whole five minutes, and then start up again as if nothing happened. That was it, she would have to go to the authorities, maybe they could reach David by the public phone or maybe they would know what happened... They would say if the 225 was involved in a crash wouldn't they?

Suddenly, five uniformed men ran in through the entrance, some were carrying sophisticated looking equipment, some were even armed with small guns Becky had seen police on TV use, one carried a larger weapon used in riots, they all carried hard hats with lights on top and breathing apparatus.

The uniformed men strode confidently along the length of the platform to the end where the one in front ( who looked in charge,) used a key to open a door restricted to authorized employees only. Behind the door was darkness so the men put on their hats and switched on the lights, silently they descended into darkness.

Becky knew that these men had something to do with all these strange going ons, these men were obviously here to help but somehow they made her feel worse.

Chris Moore scanned the tracks in front of train 607 as it crept along at a snails pace, looking for anything `out of the ordinary` as Jane from control had said, especially concerning the security cameras, well that much was obvious, the last three had been trashed- totally. Not just broken but looking like someone or something had grabbed its insides and twisted until the outer casing cracked and splintered leaving warped electronics and severed wires hanging out like the guts of a dead animal you swerve to miss on the highway. Not only that but rubbish was all over the place, on the tracks strewn about as if a train had not passed in centuries and to match, parts of the structure were bent or twisted like in an old mine shaft. This was the first situation Chris ever felt he could truly describe as `spooky`.

Still no sign of the two police officers who had stepped off his train only minutes ago, where could they have gone....

Then his flashlight fell onto a pile of white looking sticks between the two tracks, curious, Chris stepped off the creeping train and ran on ahead to investigate, when he saw what really was there he gagged in shock.

Lying in a pile were perfectly formed bones, ribs, collar bones, femurs, finger bones all covered in a mess of red liquid that stank with a coppery smell. There was no flesh or clothing in sight, just bones and blood and lying on the top of the gory pile, side by side, two blood covered skulls, both grinning as if there was some immense secret that they knew and knew soon that Chris was going to find out as well.

Lyle Packard had been part of the Subway security for five years and never had he ever been called to investigate something as weird as this missing train, excepting of coarse a year ago when a train went missing from its storage shed, but that was by an idiot with a lock pick looking for thrills, this was completely different. This train was full of passengers! How could a full train go missing? This was definitely the strangest thing that had happened yet.

When Packard asked himself who HE thought did the deed, the word terrorist sprang to mind immediately, who else had the manpower, the weaponry, the reason to do such a thing? Common criminals do not set up a stunt like this do get a dozen wallets and some watches, no, the reason would have to be linked with a hostage situation where much more could be gained. If that was the case, then Packard and his comrades may be walking into a trap.

That was the reason why it was decided unanimously for at least a few of the personnel coming to be armed. Packard checked his own Cooler digital handgun, the safety catch was off and the guide made a tiny red dot on the wall ahead, pulling the trigger, Packard could send a blast of ultra-concentrated laser light and reduce an inch thick titanium plate to a glowing lump of scrap. He wouldn't come unarmed.

Still, in a hostage situation, the enemies usually want the world to hear their cause so its not a good idea, nor standard practice to blow away anyone who comes within a kilometre, just hostages. Packard felt he wasn't in danger, but a lot of civilians were.

After a short discussion it was agreed that the primary task of the group was to locate the lost train and decipher the current position, control would inform them by use of the cord-phone that they brought if a call was made through from the men responsible informing that it was indeed a hostage/terrorist attack. Packard looked at the cumbersome phone, radio did not work so deep underground so their only link to control was the thin insulated wire they laid out as they moved along.

At the bottom of the stairs was a long unused station, dusty even down here and after so long unventilated, breathing was hard, they all switched in their air and from minuscule jets below their chin, good air floated into their faces.

Packard looked about at the interior designing of yesteryear, pretty boring and suddenly laughed. `Hey, Boss look at this.` Benjamin Smith, the newest man on the team looked up in annoyance at the sound of his nickname, all because he shared the same name as the big boss who ruled over the control room with an iron fist. `Check this out,` He indicated a large poster on the wall opposite the platform, `Discreet escorts.` he read out aloud. `Call in and see us.` it was all written next to a picture of a woman dressed in clothing so out dated that it was laughable. With current add restrictions, an add as obvious as that would never be allowed.

`Come on guys.` Wal Davidson, the red haired leader called them over. `This is serious.` He gave Packard a look that said that his fuse was half gone. `Now this is the map of the area, and we are here.` He stabbed a point on the map which had vaguely the same shape as the station. `We have to get to this line here- branch eight-oh-three by this service passage. Over there.` He looked up and pointed at a small rectangle of black on an otherwise dark grey wall. `Lets go.`

The service passage was long, black and boring, strange enough, some of the guys looked nervous, most just checked their equipment. Buz the phone operator was being helped by the boss to unroll the phone cord as they walked along, Will Moreley was trying to pick up the trains signal but if the mono-tonal blips were any indication, there was no sign.

At the end of the service passage was a plain single pair of tracks disappearing into the darkness to the left and disappearing into the darkness to the right.

`Right.` Davidson began. `This is eight-oh-three and that way,` pointing to the right, `is back up to the main line twenty three. `I expect the train to be further down considering how long it took control to switch off the power to this area, but I am going to send one man back up to check in case it stopped. Any volunteers?` No hands showed. `Good man Packard, I guess we will see you when we get back up there. Goodbye.`

Packard was left standing alone wondering why he had been chosen for the dumb job. DAMN! the most interesting thing to happen in weeks to break the monotony of catching pickpockets and vandals and he was sent back before any action started. Figures.

Trudging obediently back up towards the mainline above thought he heard something, a crash or something, probably one of the others shooting down bad guys. A weird wind blew up from behind him, how could that be? There was no ventilation down there, what would be making that wind? Train? No. Maybe.

Packard heard a rattle behind him and spun, only a wind borne piece of rubbish but why did he feel that something was down there? something that felt his presence as good as or better that he felt its. Packard felt his skin prickle and a cold sweat broke out over his brow, the wind got stronger.

Packard held the gun ready and gripped so hard the knuckles of his hands turned white, although deep down he felt... knew that the weapon would be useless he assured himself in its weight, its physical presence, the way it fitted his hand all were things that he knew, that he could comprehend, that he could believe in.

And then it moved. Packard saw nothing but again he felt it, knew that it was moving, coming towards him gathering speed, taking in momentum as if the faster it moved the more dangerous it would become. A drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face, he strained his eyes, searching the darkness for something. Anything. Somewhere deep inside if him was constantly screaming over and over. Run Run Run Run.

Was that movement?

Run Run Run Run.

The wind blew stronger.

Run Run Run Run.

There it was. Packard did not see it but he knew it was there, in front of him blowing up pieces of garbage as it moved, bending great steel supports as it passed with amazing speed going faster and faster, crushing tin cans and shredding cardboard boxes and dispersing the torn pieces.

Whatever it was turned the corner as if it was on the rails as a train would be screaming onto the straight where Packard stood. Run Run Run Run.

He couldn't move.

Run Run Run Run.

He remembered the gun.

Run Run Run Run.

It was looming over him

Run Run Run Run.

It hit him like a hot blast of wind but icy cold and suddenly it was all around him, for a moment his vision blurred and he felt like the wind had taken up a physical presence and was pulling at his face and his cloths and hands and legs, it pulled harder and Packard felt like his skin was coming off, his lips were pulled from around his mouth, his gums peeled from the edges of his teeth, his exposed eyeballs pulled out of his skull, collapsing as they were drawn through holes smaller than themselves. His fingers peeled from the bone, dropping the useless weapon. His clothes torn away were followed by his skin, and then the red exposed muscle beneath revealing the rib cage.

Hair all over his body stripped in a second, his legs had skin peeled layer by layer, through the levels of muscle, cartilage, sinew, until the bare bones gave under the weight of the still not quite stripped torso.

His skull was stripped to the bleached white bone on the outside but inside the forces were still at work, ripping at the brain, escaping out from any hole possible, the eye sockets, the mouth the nose holes. Inside the rib cage the organs were constantly being eaten away, the lungs, the liver, the stomach, the still beating heart dissolved into the air above as it flew past with extreme velocity.

Suddenly the winds were gone leaving the dead quiet of the tunnel as it was before its two intruders, except for a pile of white bones lying between the tracks and a bloody grinning skull.

Jon Quinn sat at the rear of the train. What a terrible night, what a terrible day. His collar restricted his what others had once called an over sized adams apple, he loosened his tie but that did no good, what he needed to do was get out of this suit before he died of discomfort. This was supposed to be a great day, the day he closed the most colossal deal he had ever dealt with before but the developer had pulled out at the last minute and without time to find a new developer the whole thing folded in on itself from lack of steam.

The mood at the office had been positively rancid after the loss which Jon had to admit was partly his fault because of the way he handled the deal after the developer pulled out, But he felt so disappointed to say the least.

But to add insult to injury the trip home had been Hell. Something must be wrong with this trains brakes, the stopping and starting at stations was so jerky that Jon`s slowly waning headache returned at full power, and then they suddenly just stopped. Halfway through a pitch black tunnel, for five whole minutes, no explanation, no nothing. It seemed ages before they started up again.

Jon opened his briefcase, digging through the mess within, there had to be an aspirin somewhere, anywhere, the headache was killing.

The trains lights dimmed and Jon could feel it slowing down again, he groaned, that was all he needed. Another delay. Why couldn't they manufacture trains that could run for more than a couple of hours at a time? Suddenly the train screeched to a halt throwing Jon against the vertical bar normally used by standing passengers, What the Hell was going on?

The dim yellow emergency lights came on revealing the crowded inside of the train, down at the other end it was the same. He could see down at the other end because there was no narrowing of the inside where the train bent to take a corner, when the train was moving it twisted and turned in an almost eerie fashion. This time, it lay on a straight and Jon could see the far end, confused passengers calling to each other, shouting to be heard over the person who was shouting to be heard over them. The noise level was steadily increasing.

Jon stared out the window, wishing that he could somehow teleport himself away from all the pandemonium, into the cool musty silence of the tunnel, that was what he wanted, some peace and quiet.

There was a strange wind blowing past the train, very strange. Jon thought the train was much deeper underground than this to be affected by gusts of wind from outside. Then bits and pieces of rubbish were being blown all over the sides of the train, blowing up against the windows, it would seem dangerous to have so much junk lying about that could be blown up by a freak gust of wind in a place where packed trains roared past so quickly.

The wind was blowing up chunks of dirt now, pulling up areas that looked like they had lain there for centuries. Jon stopped watching with mild interest and genuine concern took over. The wind looked Really Strong.

The noise inside the train had died down when people noticed all the noise outside, it was really whistling past, this had to have something to do with the stoppage of the train, maybe the power lines had been downed or something. No, that wasn't right, Jon knew that a mere wind storm was not what this was, something was out there, it sought them, it hungered for them, for their flesh, it was seeking a way in right now. Jon didn't know how he knew, but he somehow knew.

Inside the train was dead silent as if the rest of the passengers had also realized the grave situation they were all in, all eyes peered out trying to see what was going on and then...

The glass in Jon`s window cracked, a little, and then some more, other windows were cracking, some faster than others. Jon put his hand over the crack and felt a thin draft, where the incoming air washed over his extended palm, he felt a tingling sensation, then a dull pain, than a sharp one, Jon clutched his hand tightly trying to wipe off the acid like gas. The pain was gone but where it touched him, all the skin was pallid and loose and felt dead.

Jon heard a crash and then another, he looked up and all the windows down at the front were smashing, actually imploding all over the helpless passengers and the list of shattering windows was making its way up the train towards the rear where Jon stood dumbfounded holding his wounded hand.

People were screaming in agony as the acid air that was on Jon`s hand washed all over their bodies, hair was dissolved in seconds, clothing fell off in tatters half dissolved, skin followed exposing raw areas increasing in area by the second.

Jon heard a crash to his left and felt himself being showered by glass, all over other damage was being done, panic straps rolled about, structural bars bent and broke the roof collapsed in places. But all around the screams of people as they were torn apart layer by layer, bone was being exposed, blood showered all over the walls, half intact victims clawed their way out, ripping off great chunks of themselves and others as they fought their way to imagined freedom from the intense pain, a half uniformed cop who still had the movement of some fingers, drew his gun, placed it in his bony mouth and pulled the trigger spraying blood over the wall behind.

Jon looked at his fingers where the bones were beginning to push through.

He was glad when the acid wind damaged his ears beyond use and took his eyes, for then he no longer knew about the dozens of others in the train and how they died.

It was not long before they reached the first intersection, as on the map, after coming down branch line 803 this was the first point the missing train would have come across, they looked down the two equally dark passages in confusion.

Buz Hawkins wasn`t really concerned about the whereabouts of the train, as he lay out the phone cord with the assistance of the `Boss`, just do your job, he told himself, and that`s operating the phone link to the surface. He thought about the last update control had given, two cops walking along the tracks had mysteriously disappeared only to be found later a bloody pile of bones, and then five trains on the main lines stopped, in rapid succession their Tamnet signals winked out. Found later by the ambulance rescue service, all that was left were smashed up wrecks covered in blood and littered with the same bloody bones.

No weapon Buz had ever heard of had an effect as horrific as what was happening to those trains, as a matter of fact he was all for giving up the search for the 225 and going back to the surface but Wal would have none of it, he had led this particular group of Security personnel for years and never before had he ever had to back out of a situation unfinished, either combating criminals or rescuing from a crash and today would be no different, he was determined to get the job done or bust.

Bust was what Buz feared.

Still, he had his pride and that was what kept him going, he also noticed that the other two, the Boss and Will Moreley, looked pretty on edge as well. Four men with two hand guns and a riot gun taking on what hardly seemed to be as mundane as terrorists did not seem to Buz as a good career move.

Buz looked at Will Moreley, a man around the same age and who had only been on the squad slightly longer than the Boss, held out the portable Tamnet scanner, `Nothing.` He stated. `I can`t tell where the train went.`

All four pairs of eyes scanned the two tunnels.

`Hey look!` The Boss exclaimed. He pointed at the part of the point that slid across to facilitate the switching from one direction to another, it was gone, the point was stuck in the one position, veering off to the right, as a matter of fact, the whole mechanism was rusted solid, there was no way of moving that thing. They still had the trail, for now, but how long would the points be rusted into position? How long would their luck hold out?

As they set off down the tunnel, the phone rang, strange for the only form of communication in these black tunnels, the communication that may be used in a hostage situation, the same communication that was once used during the horrific three train pileup of 2009, to have a ringing noise the same as an ordinary telephone but there it was.

Buz snatched up the receiver. `Hello?`

`Buz, you and the guys have to find out what`s wrong.` The speaker on the other end sounded terrible.

`What happened?`

`We`ve lost three more trains, full trains.`

`Can`t you just divert everything out up to the surface?` Buz was shocked.

`We tried but something else is controlling the points, the trains just get turned around again and again until they`re taken by... by whatever it is that is doing this.` Buz noticed the use of whatever instead of whoever. `There`s other stuff too.`

`What?`

`Were losing rescue squads, they go out to look for survivors and then we lose contact, we`ve lost half of the ambulance rescue and you guys are the only Subway Security guys we still have contact with.` From the noise in the background it was clear that the control room was in a state of utter turmoil, it was hard to hear the speaker`s voice. `We`ve also lost contact with the other stations, were totally cut off from the surface.`

`Can`t you just get up and leave?`

`Yes of course we can but we need to stay and help evacuate everybody else, if we don't help them, then they are dead.`

`What can we do?` Buz was at a loss, he noticed the other three were gathered around listening to the morbid conversation.

`You have to find 225. Find out why it was taken down below when all the others were attacked as they traveled on the main lines, it may tell us something we can use against it, even if all you can find out is What it is we need it. You may be our only hope.`

`Ok, we`ll try.` Buz was shaking.

`I have to go, I`m needed.` With a click, the phone went silent.

Wal Davidson was the first to move decisively. `Let`s go, they need us now more than ever.`

They all started off, no more doubts about the usefulness of the mission, no more doubts about the safety of the mission either, but it had to be done. That fact was set in buz`s mind. He knew that if he ever made it out alive, should he look back on life, he would know that the mutual decision to keep following the train 225 was one he and the rest of the squad had never been so sure about in their lives. To turn back now would not only be failing themselves but it would mean failing to the hundreds of people who had been unlucky enough to be on a train on this day.

They walked a little further, the track began to descend deeper into the cold rock, the occasional drips from the ceiling became more frequent the lower down they went, still the track continued in its downward trend.

`Hey I`m picking something up.` Will Moreley was studying the screen of the portable.

`Which direction is it coming from?` Davidson.

`Uh, Its too far away to define, but I`m sure that when we get to the next intersection I can point the general direction.`

`Good.` Wal Davidson asserted.

They continued silently down the tunnel of which it seemed was built primarily for the use of providing a train line to the lower pits of Hell because it went down and around endlessly. Buz was beginning to wonder if there would be any good to finding out the whereabouts of 225, and if they did, would they get out alive to tell about it?

Still there was no choice, it was probably safer than a couple of levels up where squads were going missing as they searched for train loads of mass murdered people....

Suddenly, Buz felt a chill sensation in his chest, it got stronger, a coldness deep down inside him and an infinite dread filled his heart with black despair. He could feel it, it was near, it knew of their presence so deep down in its private catacombs and it hungered. It searched. Buz looked around, the tunnel was bare walls, no service entry's or even air vents, if it caught them there, they would be trapped. It was moving, it shifted slightly, it stopped, it turned around, it faced them. Buz didn't know how he knew, he felt it. It started to move towards them gathering speed. Faster. Faster. It was coming to get them.

And then it stopped again, it shifted a few feet as if in indecision, it started moving again but slower this time, unsure, and then it was sure. It began to build up speed again. Buz didn't see any of this happening, he knew it was happening and looking around he saw the other three felt the same thing, it could feel people and people could feel it. It was traveling at enormous speeds, but its trajectory seemed wrong, it wasn't heading straight for them, the same way that they had come, would it turn an unseen corner at the last moment or would it pass by, realize its mistake, backtrack and take the correct path next time?

Without a sound it passed by, so close, Buz felt that all he could do was keep from screaming, separated by only a few meters of earth, he felt that if he let out the slightest sound, if he even breathed, that he would betray the groups position and what ever it was would sink through solid rock to find them and do what it did to the train passengers.

It was gone. Luck had given them a reprieve, a second chance to complete the mission. As usual Davidson was the first to recover.

`It is confused by this maze as we are. Now move!` He yelled. `It may come back.`

In a flat run they pelted down the descending tunnel in hope to outrun something that had successfully caught speeding trains, maybe they might stumble onto a secret weapon buried by an ancient civilization who had once in the past fought this menace, but that was a vain hope inspired by too many movies. Suddenly there was a splash and freezing cold water crept into their shoes, pointing the lights down they saw it was water, black as death, Being the lowest part of the series of man made catacombs, all of the water had seeped down to this point and collected, flooding the whole area.

Still they ran on, their strides throwing up water into each other, they didn't care, the freezing water lanced up their exhausted leg muscles, but they had to keep going, keep moving or die.

Finally, the endless seeming tunnel branched, all eyes went to Will Moreley and his Tamnet unit, he studied it for a moment and then pointed in the direction of the smaller tunnel. `That way.`

They started up but immediately, as Buz pulled on the phone cord reel, it pulled back. His heart jumped and for a moment he was sure that the thing was toying with them, until he realized that the reel was out of cord, in staying linked to control, this was as far as they went. He called the others back and standing knee deep in the arctic waters, they discussed what they could do.

`Just leave the phone here.` Wal said impatient to go.

`But its our only way of communication,` Buz reminded him. `If we leave it in the water, we`ll damage it and we need it.`

`Someone will have to stay with it in case control calls.` Boss decided. `I`ll stay.`

`I will too,` Buz said, `In pairs is safer.`

Wal nodded in agreement. `Good. Moreley, follow me.

Davidson and Moreley left leaving Buz holding the phone and the Boss holding a handgun. Buz was at first unsure that staying back in the tunnel where they almost encountered the killer was a good idea, but as he thought about it, it really wasn't any safer than walking on ahead. The two of them just sat there straining to hear a sound, a noise, a couple of times Buz was tempted to reach out with his mind and try and locate the things position but he was afraid that if he did, the communication would betray his position to it and any thing that wasn't necessary but may endanger them was bad.

Suddenly the phone rang.

Buz grabbed the receiver and held it tightly to his ear.

`Hello?`

`Buz, it`s me again, look, we`ve lost contact with everything, things are really bad, we can`t even talk on the public address system to warn the people to get out of our own station, the electronics is shot to pieces, I`m surprised I reached you, look whatever is doing this knows what its at, the people in our own station don't even suspect somethings wrong until it gets them too, there are no more trains, we lost contact with the last rescue and security group ten minutes ago, for God`s sake if we get cut off and you find out if there is a weapon capable of taking this thing, find another way out and get to the authorities on the surface because if we don't evacuate now then there wont be anybody left alive to meet you, we are leaving and were gonna try and get everybody out of this station....` The speakers words trailed off.

`Hey whats going on?` Buz tried to call into the receiver.

`Sorry, its just something weird is happening.` The speaker sounded confused.

`What? What?`

`Uh, oh just a strange wind blowing around, it just seems a bit out of place here.`

A bead of sweat trickled down Buz`s face as he listened to the empty line, the speaker seemed to be talking to someone else, while holding his hand over the mouthpiece of Buz`s phone.

Suddenly there was a violent crash in the control room and the receiver at the other end was dropped, Buz tried to call someone but no one answered, more crashes and the smashing of a window it sounded like, it was there.

And then the screaming started, mens screams, womens screams all coming through crystal clear, they intensified and then died out one by one as if someone was in there ripping out the throats of each person one by one, or maybe the throats failed to function as a noise makers anymore or maybe it had spirited away each body as it lay dying....

The phone line went dead.

Becky was ready to go home and check to see if David got home another way. Maybe was waiting for her, forgetting that he told her to wait for him on platform 15, he did that sometimes, forget things. Mostly they were birthdays and anniversaries but often he forgot that he said things only hours before. The more she thought about it the more likely it all seemed, or maybe she heard the train number wrong, maybe he had said 221 and since she didn't arrive until the 224 left, he had caught a taxi home and missed her. That had to be it, why would he say he was on a train that didn't seem to be running today anyway?

They had a car, Beck could drive the kids home and if David wasn't there, come back and wait longer alone, the kids couldn't wait much longer anyway.

She had seen the smartly uniformed young man in the station office and he assured her that everything was fine and apart from a few technical hitches, ( which was a fairly offhand way of describing no trains in the last fifteen minutes and a horde of ambulance rescue squads running past and down the tunnels ). He looked very friendly but Becky could tell that he was lying, he had an anxious look on his face and he seemed to be having trouble reaching anyone on the phone when she walked in.

Maybe it was just her imagination... where had those kids run off to? oh, there they are, Jennifer and Robert had pushed the pram all the way to the other end of the platform, had positioned it so that James could watch them swinging on handrails set up to help old people onto the trains.

Becky felt a wave of guilt that she had been so irresponsible to not even notice that her children had walked so far away while she was talking to the man in the office, but they were ok...

Suddenly there was a high pitched scream, the crowds parted and Becky saw a horribly disfigured man stagger into the station, he looked like he had been dipped in powerful acid for a minute and then pulled out still alive.

`Run.` He gasped, falling to his knees.

`Mr. Smith!` The uniformed man had come at a run out of his office and evidently knew this man. `What the Hell...?`

`You have to get out of here.` The Mr. Smith groaned falling to his knees, no one moved to help him, no one wanted to touch him. `Get out or die. Get out or what happened to me will get you.`

Some standing close by, understood right away and began to head for the nearest stairway up to the surface. What started as a nervous walk turned into a hurried trot, and then deteriorated into a full running melee, people trampled other people, pushing shoving, people were crushed in the rush that was not due to the Mr. Smith`s words but to the fact that every body else was running and panic spread like an infectious disease.

Becky searched around, her children were still at the senior citizens bars but were standing still watching in confusion at the panicked crowds. She ran up to them, `We have to leave,` she didn't want to scare them but Mr. Smith scared her.

It would take ages for the whole panicked crowd to run up those stairs and Becky didn't want her children crushed in the mess but she still hurried along towing Jennifer and Robert by the hands, past the huge door that the first five Security patrol man had left ajar.

Suddenly Becky realized that despite the frenzied pushing and shoving, the crowd wasn't moving at all, looking up, she saw huge blast doors, manufactured in the occurrence that war broke out and the Subway had to be used as a bunker, had by some fault in the doors computer or something like that, shut, Barring the way out.

Now the crowd was ten times worse, women and men caught up in the frenzy ran around looking for other ways out, all of the passages up to the surface and to other platforms had been closed off. Somebody or something had deliberately trapped them, the only way out was through the train`s tunnels.

Becky was scared. Very very scared.

Suddenly a strange wind blew up from out of nowhere.

Will Moreley glanced at the portable Tamnet unit, the signal was getting stronger, he could tell the direction it was coming from for sure now, not that there was much confusion, the track they followed continued on without branching off, without end.

Suddenly the signal pinpointed, it came through crystal clear, the portable identified the signal as that of the 225 and estimated a distance of fifty meters. Davidson shone his light into the gloom ahead and there it was, the end at least, a bent, torn shattered lump of metal that only vaguely resembled what it once was, Wills heart sank, it was certain there would be no survivors here.

Will`s assumption turned out correct when they stepped onto the dead silent carriage, as torn and broken as the end but this time Will gagged, the inside of the train was covered in blood, splattered over the walls, dripping off the ceiling, inch deep in places on the floor, it clogged the senses, the smell blocked the throat. The only noise was the drip of blood into a slowly filling glass jar that had somehow escaped the destruction.

`Lets go.` Will gasped.

Davidson nodded briskly and they walked out trying not to touch the walls or get dripped on.

Will was out first and he ran to the stone walls and retched violently, Davidson was breathing deeply the cool fresh tunnel air, trying to control his stomach too.

Finally Will could throw up no more and he went and stood next to the silent red haired man. `This whole thing was a waste of time,` He accused nobody in particular `We wont find anything in there.` He indicated the train with a turn of his head.

`Are you sure?` Davidson was deep in thought. `Did you notice anything strange about back there?` He looked hopeful.

`Yeah, there's no flesh anywhere.` Will found it hard to talk about the subject.

`Which means that this thing, this whatever it is, eats, the people it catches.` Davidson deducted coolly, as if this was no more than a murder mystery on the television rather than this real life bloodbath.

`And what about the clothes?` Will suddenly remembered, `I only saw a few shreds of clothing back there.`

`Yes.` a light came into Davidson`s eyes. `Where are the clothes? do you think it eats them as well?`

`Well it ate every scrap of flesh it found but then only most of the clothing, why do you think it was so selective?`

Davidson frowned for a moment and then a spark of an idea came into his eyes, he stepped up onto the train and disappeared inside. Will made no move to follow, thinking himself unable to control his stomach, if he had anything left to throw up.

In a few minutes Davidson returned with a triumphant look on his face, on the end of his riot gun which he held out to Will, was a piece of blood soaked clothing, ripped but it looked like a piece of a once white shirt with part of the collar attached. Seeing what Davidson wanted him to do, he read the tag out aloud.

`One hundred percent polyester. What about it?`

`It`s man made.` Davidson reminded him. `We didn't grow it, nothing in here is natural, the metal, the glass, it wasn't eaten, just smashed! And did you see that all the seats were stripped of their covers?` He sounded almost happy.

`So what good does that do us?`

`So we can fight it, just make a suit out of polyester, it cant eat through and you're safe!`

`SAFE?!?` Will almost screamed. `Look at the shirt. Look at the whole F*****g train! if it cant eat its way through it tears its way in. To get into this train it would only have to break open one window, but why do you think that it broke every window? why do you think it ripped apart the wheels for God`s sake?` He indicated the torn metal littering the ground. `Do you want to know what I think?`

No answer.

`Because its easy.` Will answered. `Because its fun. Because it likes to terrorize its victims. Because that's the way it is!`

They stood there in silence, Wills anger waned to where he could think about other things.

`C`mon, we should get going before it gets back.` He said.

`NO!` Davidson said firmly, Will stopped in shock. `You may think that I`m clutching at straws in hope that I find an all powerful weapon or magic serum that protects the user, but I don't, I think that there maybe something that just might help us and walking away now could lose that chance forever.`

Will was dumbfounded at his stubbornness, they had to get out as soon as possible.

`And another thing.` Davidson added. `To me walking out of here now would be admitting defeat, it would say Thing, I know we have nothing to use to fight you, all we can do is to run away and hope to God that you don't catch us.

`But that's all we can do.` Will reminded him. `We have nothing.`

`How do you know?` He yelled back. `How can you be so sure that there is nothing on this train?`

Will stood there unable to answer for a moment and then said. `What I do know is that if we don't get away soon then even if we do find something we`ll be too dead to care!`

They stood there for a moment staring at each other, nothing else to say. Will knew that if things were to fall apart here then they would all be dead, him, Davidson, Buz, the Boss, even Lyle Packard (wherever he was), they needed to stay as a team or perish in these black tunnels. Will looked at Davidson, a man who had been in charge of many men for a number of years, many times his will had been adhered to even if he was wrong, it would be difficult for him to admit defeat and do as his subordinate suggests, it was something that was not part of his character anymore, the years of unhindered leadership had worn away that facet of him almost completely. He would not give in.

Will then looked at himself, maybe Davidson was right, was this pessimistic outlook on the situation an invitation to death? if they walked out would they be as steeled to fight for their lives as they could be, or would they be resigned to defeat? not even letting the thinnest hope of getting out alive shine through?

The more Will thought about it, the more logical it seemed, Davidson would not, or would not very likely give in to Will`s opinion, and splitting would only damage the group`s combined strength to the point where they would be helpless, The only option would be for Will to agree to stay while Davidson is satisfied enough to agree to leave.

Doing anything other than that would be to sign all their death warrants. It wasn't weak, it was smart.

`Look,` he said. `We can look around for a bit and stay safe, I`m pretty sure, but we have to go soon.`

Davidson smiled. `We will, don't worry.`

Will turned to go to the train, but Davidson stopped him with a touch of his arm.

`We need to stick together as a team.` He repeated Wills very thoughts. `I...I`m sorry.` Will was stunned, apologies were not what he expected from this man.

Will smiled. `Me too, we`re all pretty stressed out.` Then getting to business as quickly as possible: `We better go and look at the train again.`

The thick nauseating smell of blood invaded Wills senses as he stepped onto the train, it was the same, blood covered and destroyed. `What are we looking for?`

`I don't know,` Davidson replied. `Maybe something that hasn't been eaten or wrecked...`

Will could see nothing, he scraped blood away from the floor and in the seconds it took to recover the spot he saw that even the floor was torn and buckled, the thing was as thorough as it was deadly. He also noticed items of clothing that had escaped the destruction, scraps of clothing, watches, necklaces, belt buckles, all bent or torn or ripped or severed or gouged, all was eaten or wrecked.

Except the glass jar.

Both men noticed the jar, it was sitting right out in the open as if someone walking past afterwards had put it there to catch the drips of blood.

Davidson moved to get the half blood filled jar, when Will stopped him doubtfully, `I don't think that glass is really the material that is impervious to the thing`s strength.` He indicated the smashed windows.

`Maybe it`s a type of glass.` Davidson said hopefully, stooping to retrieve the item.

`Maybe it was just too small for the thing to really worry about it.` Will was sure that the jar or the material had nothing to do with it.

`I feel sure that if you were to take that watch,`Davidson pointed at a stopped watch with a cracked face, `and take it apart, there would not be one piece that was not broken or bent, not one gear, not one cog would be in working order.`

`I wouldn't go that far...`

`I would. There was a reason why our thorough little friend left this jar intact and when we get to the surface, we`re going to find out what.` Davidson seemed so sure of himself, that his confidence almost lent itself to Will, for a moment, he was as sure as the red haired leader. But then the moment passed, Will could see nothing in the tiny glass structure that had weathered the destructive force of the thing and then captivated the attentions of Davidson.

Had Will failed to notice something about the still blood filled container?

Trying to maintain a line of logic to the situation, he tried to divert Davidson`s attention to something else. `What about these bones, they're organic, why aren`t they gone too?`

`I don't know.` He admitted, `maybe bones are harder to digest, take longer, prevent a quick getaway.`

Will suddenly realized they had been referring to this thing like it was some supernatural force, a ghost, a hungry viscous specter. These were things Will hadn't really thought about. He never really believed in the supernatural, but now, looking at the carnage, trying to figure out what the Hell happened, ghosts just seemed to be such an easy explanation to turn to. After all this, Will believed that anything was possible.

Davidson wanted to get back to the surface so that the jar could be studied, Will doubted it really had anything to do with any of the things points of weakness, (if there were any). But he was grateful for the decision to be finally going.

As they walked back the way they had come towards where Buz and the Boss were waiting patiently, Will looked at the now redundant portable Tamnet unit, informing him that the 225 was getting farther away, good. He switched off the machine.

Davidson carried the riot gun in one hand and the jar in the other, Will noticed that it was still half filled with blood, he was about to tell the red haired leader this when he thought of something.

`The Blood!` He gasped. `Why didn't it eat the blood?`

Davidson stopped in surprise. `Yes. Why not?`

`I mean, blood is organic and it would be no harder to digest than flesh.` Will continued.

`Maybe it cant deal with liquid, we haven`t seen it yet so we couldn't tell. Maybe it just doesn't like the taste of blood.`

`So it separates the blood from the flesh and eats the flesh?` Will said doubtfully.

`Why not? its done harder things before.`

Will nodded, `And that looks like all the blood from those passengers...`

Suddenly, as they turned the corner, a wind whipped up. Smith from the control room said there was a weird wind that preceded an attack, Will felt a freezing sinking feeling in his chest, it was back and this time it was in the same tunnel.

Screaming echoed through the tunnel, Buz and the Boss. Davidson and Will broke onto a dead run towards the pain wracked sounds when suddenly they broke off, the only noise were the pair`s footsteps and the wind whistling its song of death.

Davidson grabbed Wills arm and pulled him back. `They're dead. We have to get out of here.`

Will realized he had been running to his death for a lost cause stopped immediately, with mutual unspoken consent, they both ran back along the tunnel, running for their lives, hoping it hadn't felt them so close, hoping to get out of range of it`s radar like ability.

Too late, it knew they were there already, it was moving in their direction, looking for the right tunnel that would take it to them.

Back to the 225 they plunged, slowly its shattered bulk loomed ahead, there was no safety in there as dozens had already discovered. Past the train to the track beyond, where it ended abruptly, a dead end.

The winds were getting stronger, there was nowhere to run, no side passages, no air vents, no service entry's, just the 225. Will jumped up into the blood spattered wreck, searching desperately for a place to hide, but would there be one here? when it could so easily find a person with the telepathic abilities that it possessed?

The winds plunged through the smashed windows and holes in the ceiling, a violent shudder shook the entire carriage throwing the pair into the pools of blood on the floor, Will rolled around onto his back, blood was all over him, soaked through his clothes and hair, covering his skin and invading his mouth and nostrils with its sickly touch. This was it, he thought, he was going to die.

While one tiny part of him refused to believe that he could die, the rest screamed in fear of what would happen after death, blackness? a new life? Heaven? Hell?

He looked over at Davidson who was lying in a pool of blood as he was, covered so that there was not a speck of colour other than different shades of red.

Suddenly he realized that it was quiet, was it gone? was this the quiet before a storm of pain? was Will dead already? He looked around at the blood smeared train, had he gone to Hell and was doomed to relive this nightmare over and over for eternity?

Davidson stood up. `Its gone.` he choked.

Will realized that the coldness in his guts had gone, he couldn't feel another presence searching for them anymore, it had found them surely but for some reason moved on, maybe figuring them trapped and planning to keep them for later.

`Lets get out.` Davidson whispered.

Running down the tunnel for the forth time, they encountered the knee deep water, Will could stand the feeling of blood all over him no longer and plunged into the icy waters, letting the stagnant yet clean seeming water wash away the copper smelling liquid that clogged the senses.

Will came up and saw that Davidson had also washed off the blood but was standing still as if listening for something, Will paused and found that he could feel the thing again, it was far away, the blood had blocked the signal for some reason and now it was washed off...

It found them. It changed course. It was heading their way again.

They reached the intersection where the line 225 had taken and branch line 803 met, there was no sign of Buz and the Boss, no doubt of what had happened either, there was no time to run back to the train and recover themselves with blood, at the speed that the thing was moving towards them they would not make it back that far.

Will started back up line 803.

`No Wait!` Davidson yelled, `its coming down that way, we have to go this way.` He indicated the other direction. `There may be a stairway or shortcut.`

They began to run down the track, keeping their eyes on the walls in vain hope of some sort of escape, the terrifying winds whipped up again. Davidson looked back and saw that he had left the jar on the waters edge when he had washed himself, he was certain that the jar was their only way of getting out, madly he dashed back to retrieve the treasure, Will calling out behind.

Unbelievably, it still contained the blood, for a second he considered washing it out in the water when the wind whipped up even more ferociously and he just ran after Will.

Will ran on ahead searching for the only hope, a stair or something when his light fell onto a ladder that disappeared into darkness above. Crying out in relief, he looked back to see how far behind Davidson was, not far, he began to climb the aging metal ladder.

Davidson stumbled and almost fell, but recovered his footing, it looked unsure if he was going to make it, Will jumped down to help him up the ladder when suddenly it was here.

In deathly silence it circled the pair as if afraid that they would escape for the third time. Will strained his eyes, he knew it was there, all around but he could not see anything but the chunks of dirt whipped up by the ferocious winds.

Davidson suddenly remembered the riot gun, he raised it to where he felt the thing to be most concentrated but suddenly the whole weapon disintegrated in his hand, now all he had was the jar. Wills portable Tamnet unit also disintegrated into bent and broken pieces, but still they couldn't feel any pain themselves, maybe it was delaying their deaths, to squeeze out that last ounce of terror for its own entertainment.

Davidson heard the crack in his hand, the jar was smashing too, it had no magical powers, it had no resilience to the things strength, Davidson felt a fool for believing that something as trivial as this could possess the things secrets. The frustration pent up boiled over and he screamed.

`B*****d!` He pitched the cracked glass at the part of the thing that blocked the escape by the ladder, the jar passed through and smashed on the ladder and the wall behind, spraying its cargo of blood all around.

Will watched the blood splatter all through the air where he could feel the thing, suddenly he realized that it wasn't there anymore, wherever the blood passed the thing had retreated, the cool taste of fear, fear of the blood reached Will, it hated and feared blood. There was now a clear path to the ladder.

`C`mon!` He screamed at Davidson and ran to the ladder, he jumped and scrambled up half to give Davidson as much room as possible to follow and half to get away himself.

The ceiling was unusually high, even for a train tunnel, twenty meters at least, halfway up and Will realized that Davidson wasn't following as close as he could, he looked down and saw his red haired companion straining on the bars. Further down the thing had pounced and somehow grabbed Davidson`s legs with invisible hands, the effects were not invisible however, his shoes were gone and the pant legs gone, his feet seemed to be dissolving, coming apart layer by layer.

Will started down to help his friend, suddenly an artery opened up from the shredded legs and the things grip on Davidson was temporarily released as blood spurted out in time with his racing heartbeat, ignoring the intense pain below, Davidson pulled himself up with his arms alone.

Using another tactic, the thing climbed up his body, pulling off hairs and clothing and skin as it went, when it reached his wrists it began to work again. Ignoring the mind piercing pain that now worked over his entire body, Davidson held on, he would not willfully go down with out a fight.

His hands were raw, his wrists torn away so fast that blood had no time to come out from the tiny blood vessels, muscle was exposed, sinew, tendons, his knuckles were the first bones to show, finally, stripped of flesh the wrist bones separated in a snap and Davidson fell screaming to the bottom, leaving parts of his fingers still clinging futilely to the rungs of the ladder. His face was turned away for a moment until he looked up to Will, the eyelids were pulled back or missing, the lips were gone exposing ragged gums, parts of the cheek and forehead were gone, the red hair had long been torn out. Distorted by the massive mutilations his voice was a harsh rasp.

`Run.`

Suddenly Will realized that he was still stopped halfway up the ladder. So did the thing, leaving the already dead Davidson on the tunnel floor, it started to climb the ladder, or so it seemed, for Will could see its progress as the ladder bent and buckled and pulled out of the stone wall further and further up.

He ran up the ladder as fast as he could, the thing gathered speed as well, Will looked up, there was only a small hole to go through at the top, that indicated the possibility of a door, over the top he went moments before the thing, the top was a door, it closed like antique submarines, he threw it shut and turned the rusty wheel until the door was solidly shut, airtight, bombproof, secure.

Will gasped in relief, he had made it, or had he? There was suddenly a thunderous crash from below the tightly sealed door, it was trying to break through, there was no telling how powerful it was. He looked around, this was the unused station they had first encountered upon coming down. All he had to do was run up one pair of stairs and he would be on platform 15 among people, safe.

The crashing against the base of the door stopped abruptly, Will spun around, it was still intact, Will couldn't believe that it had just given up in the chase, maybe it was tunneling around.

It began to move. Slowly at first it made its way to the bottom of the ladder and made its way along the track, gathering speed but traveling faster than any train could even if the tracks were not in such disrepair, it was circling, describing a huge arc as branch line 803 came to the same height. With increasing horror, Will realized that line 803 was somehow attached tunnel-wise to the track he now stood on. At estimation, it would arrive in less than fifteen seconds.

Summing up more energy from a steadily decreasing well of stamina, he jumped onto the platform and ran to the wide stairway. The wind whistled menacingly, it was moving faster than it had ever before, this time its prey would not escape.

He took the stairs two at a time, the wind whipping at his legs, the disintegrating gas only moments behind. He reached the landing and stopped.

There was a little girl huddled in the corner.

`Help me.` she cried. Her pale tear streaked face was framed by tangled auburn hair, `Oh no.` she gasped as the winds strength increased.

`Lets go.` Will held out his hand and she took it looking anxiously down the stairs, she had obviously discovered what followed the mysterious wind, but survived? maybe she had slipped behind this door and had been too small for it to worry about, which could only mean...

Will gasped as he opened the door, platform 15 was a wreck, blood smeared, bone littered and destroyed, the cement of the actual platform had been torn up, leaving sections sloping every which way. This place must have held hundreds of people.

He slammed the door behind them, Davidson had the key to open it from this side but once shut, it locked automatically.

Suddenly something slammed on the door from the other side. It. This door was not as strong as the submarine door at the top of the ladder, the thing may not be forced to go around.

Taking the girls hand he ran to the stairs up to the surface, staggering from acute exhaustion, the uneven rubble and the slipperiness of the blood soaked surfaces.

At the base of the last stairs, Will stopped in shock, the bunker doors had shut. How the Hell? Despite all the destruction to the platform, the bunker doors had remained untouched.

The bangings on the doors down to the unused platforms had become more frenzied and the bowing of the solid seeming barriers increased with each hit, there was not much time.

All of the employees in the subway system had been informed how to use the bunker doors if war ever broke out, they had all been given clearance numbers to operate the doors from the office computers if the automated door control ever failed to close and to open up after the danger had passed.

This precaution was useless now however, the station office and everything in it had been extensively destroyed, the computer, the controls, everything. The office was not so blood strewn as out side, as far as Will could tell, there was only one pile of bones. Will sat the girl in a desk chair while he searched for what he needed, she was distraught.

He tried to talk to her. `What`s your name?`

`Jenny.`

He searched the metal cupboards, not there.

He searched the huge filing cabinets, not there.

He searched the storage drawers, not there.

`What are you doing?` Jenny whispered, hoping that what was banging on the doors wouldn't hear.

`We have to find some stuff to get us out of here.` Will answered looking desperately around the room, out of options. Then he saw it, a twisted red metal box, half open, a tool box. He opened it to take inventory of what still worked, a small crowbar bent in the middle but not beyond use, cable cutters with the handles torn off but still workable, and a packet of fusers untouched, excellent.

They ran along the platform back to the stairs out, the bunker doors stood defiantly solid, pushing over the piles of bones that seemed most concentrated here, and attacked the seam in the middle where the two sections met with the crowbar, he managed to get the wedge end in but any time he pushed it open further, powerful hydraulic pistons pushed it closed again. He wasn't worried, this was partly what he expected.

A loud crash spoke of the destruction of the demolished doors at the other end of the platform, it was with them. A sudden wind blew up around them.

Will threw open a power box, filled with safety switches and other cables, the doors motor contained an emergency battery if the power was ever cut, Will ignored the cable marked `bunker doors` and went to the hydraulic hoses, there was about eight, none were marked so Will began to cut them all.

He cut the first, with the handles missing, the cable cutters lost a lot of leverage making it much harder but still possible.

The second, Will looked over at the crowbar, still hanging out of the door, wedged between the meeting edges.

Number three, `Hurry,` Jenny urged, as the winds grew stronger.

Four, and the crowbar fell to the floor with a clang, he had cut the right hose.

Back at the door Will pushed the crowbar in further and pried the heavy doors apart, until there was room for his fingers, he discarded the crowbar and pulled. Jenny tried to pull at the other door, but she spun around and screamed.

It was there. Being so close to the outside it would not let them slip away by being unnecessarily slow, it hit their bodies with the force of a thousand tiny fingers pulling at their faces, their clothes, their hair, their skin.

Will felt his cheek blister and scorch in the acid like gas but he gritted his teeth and continued to pull at the door, his fingers grew weak and then felt loose in their joints. The door was still only fifteen centimeters open, he put his foot against the other door and heaved with all of his remaining strength, the acid wind tore at the pair, searing their skin, ripping.

The door was open a foot and Will grabbed Jenny around the waist and pulled her through, with the last of his strength he pushed the door shut with the thing blowing its acid winds into his face, the door was shut but the thing still pushed at it. Will could not let go.

Jenny was at his side, trying to help hold the door shut.

`In my pocket.` He shouted above the whistling She retrieved the packet of fusers, opened it and pulled out seven metallic disks the size of a big toenail. `Put them over the hole.` He was keeping the door shut so she could stick them at regular intervals along the seam.

Will knew that fusers normally needed to be lit to operate but these ones were gunpowder coated, a sharp tap and they lit by themselves, Will looked around, the carefully swept pavement revealed no rocks.

Will bunched his fists and punched at a metallic disk, it was enough, it lit up in sudden blue-white flame, Will punched at the other fusers, ignoring the pain as the already damaged flesh cut and split from each impact. It was worth it, the fusers went to work, melting the metal together until an unbreakable bond was formed.

The fusers burnt away to reveal perfect joins, slightly blackened and charred from the extreme heat, if the thing could not pass through the submarine door, then this would be impossible.

Silence. Will stared at the door.

Jenny stood next to him, probably thinking about lost friends and family, for Will, there were no better friends than the men who had accompanied him on the search for the 225, Ben Smith, the Boss, Buz Hawkins, the solid dependable man, Lyle Packard, the wisecracking lunatic and Wal Davidson, a brave man who on many occasions even before this day had pulled the team together in a tough situation. Too many good men had died on this day, by this Will meant to include the hundreds of people who had fallen prey to the thing which hadn't even been given a name.

Will was too weak to stand, no longer fearing the permanently shut bunker doors, he sat down on the cool pavement, a slow drizzly rain began to splatter down, some people claimed that the rain these days was so bad that it was bad to be outside when it rained. But not today, today there was nothing that was as pure or untainted as the sweet cool rain, Will lay back against a sloped retaining wall letting the water cleanse him of the horror he had only recently escaped.

Jenny sat down next to him, poor kid, she was probably down there with her family, now she was the only one left, he put his arm around her comfortingly and she hugged him fiercely back, burying her face in his ripped clothing, she sobbed in grief. Together they sat letting the rain soak into their burns and wounds, would they ever heal?

Finally she pulled away and said:

`Maybe there are other people alive down there like me? Maybe we should call the ambulance, or something?`

`No.` Will doubted there would be anyone as lucky as they were and besides, `I don't want to send anyone else down there to die as well, too many already have...`