Now You See Me

Forty-Six: Ghost Transport

Warm air ruffled my hair as we walked through the tunnels to the platform. It all felt so familiar; the adverts pasted on the walls, the tiles grubby and old, even the smell – plastic and hot metal – and yet it felt different and I didn't like it at all. Beside me, Chris was walking along as if tripping through a dream, wide-eyed and dazed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed just how much he was holding back.

Our footsteps echoed uncomfortably loud. We both jumped as an electronic advertisement board flared to life on a corner, causing us to stop for a brief second before continuing on in the orange light of a multivitamin campaign.

The rubber and steel smell of the platform seemed all the stronger once there was no one here to dilute it with perfumes, coffee, detergent. They were small things that I was sure I'd never have noticed if their absence hadn't been so conspicuous. The train had already pulled in. Bright light illuminated empty carriages, the red doors of which stood open as if ready to clamp shut and trap us. The tiles of the tunnel seemed to glisten wetly as I looked around at them, gasping quietly when I saw that the entrance had, like the station steps before it, disappeared, to be replaced with a blank wall.

"Guess we're taking the tube," Chris said, and laughed, but it sounded hysterical and made me wince.

We boarded. Almost as soon as we were in seats the door snapped shut with a hiss and the train jolted into motion, pulling slowly into the tunnel and beginning to gain speed. Chris's body bumped into mine with the irregular rhythm of the tracks, but for once the physical contact didn't seem to affect him. I guessed there was a lot else that was sufficiently distracting.

"If there's no one else here," Chris murmured, and I got the impression from his tone that I wasn't going to like what he was about to say, "Who the fuck is driving the train?"

The wheels screamed on the tracks as if on cue. He jumped, and we huddled closer together. There was a coldness inside me that had nothing to do with temperature. I didn't want to think about never getting out of here, but my mind traitorously strayed towards the possibility whenever I let my guard down.

Please get us out of here soon, Leia.

We both swore under our breath at the same time as the train began to slow. Overhead the carriage lights flickered and my heart leapt into my throat.

Horror wasn't as much fun when you were living it.

The doors clicked and slid open with loud slams up and down the train. Taking Chris's hand again I got up from my seat and stepped out onto another platform, another that was vaguely familiar – weeks ago, Courtney and I had stopped here to walk to a diner for lunch. It seemed madness to me now that I'd actually walked out the door feeling entirely safe; I could barely remember what it was like to simply walk down a street or to fall asleep, without a part of me wondering whether something horrible was lying in wait.

"This is trippy as fuck," Chris whispered, as we glanced back to find that the platform had been bricked over behind us. "I'm never taking the tube again."

"Then let's get out onto the street," I said, but neither of us moved. I put my hand on the wall and pushed, but it remained as solid as if it had been there the entire time.

"Feels real," he mumbled, copying me. It took a lot for me not to shoot him an irritated glance. His constant catastrophizing was making it all the worse, and he wasn't listening to me when I said it was what Vashde wanted. I was absolutely terrified, too, but I knew that this was only an illusion – I was sure it was the only thing keeping me sane.

Maybe it would have been easier if I'd come here on my own.

As soon as I had that thought, I pushed it away, revolted with myself. Chris didn't need to take the flak for my frustration.