Tube Riders, The by Chris Ward Page B

looked upset. ‘I just wanted, you know, a memento of the occasion.’
    ‘Dumb bitch,’ Switch muttered, turning away.
    ‘Hey!’ Simon said, stepping towards him, but Marta silenced them both with a sharp: ‘Now is not the time! They’re coming closer!’
    She glanced around the side of the pillar again and counted maybe fifteen people, spread out across the platform.
    She turned to Switch. ‘How long until the next train comes?’
    ‘Huh, what?’
    ‘The next train!’
    He frowned. ‘The last one was ... about four minutes, give or take.’
    ‘Okay, that’s enough. I have a plan. Jess, do you think you can ride?’
    ‘What, now? I don’t know.’
    Simon put a hand on Marta’s shoulder. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jess can’t ride, she hasn’t practiced enough. And anyway, when we dismount–’
    ‘There’s no dismount. Not this time.’
    The others looked at her. ‘You’re joking, right?’ Paul said, frowning.
    ‘It’s the only way. If Jess doesn’t think she can ride, maybe she can hide here and they won’t find her. If Dan told them about us, he’ll have told them four. They won’t know about her.’
    ‘I’m not staying here!’
    ‘She’s not staying here.’
    ‘That’s settled then. Paul, give her Dan’s old clawboard.’
    Paul stepped forward. ‘We were going to have a little ceremony and stuff, but there isn’t time.’ He held out a clawboard. ‘Here.’
    Jess took the board and turned it over in her hands. The wood was dark with varnish but otherwise had no design. It looked like a piece of skirting board that someone had fashioned into a crude Medieval weapon for a kid to play with. The wood was scratched and scored, but the single metal hook was smooth from dozens of rides.
    ‘It’s amazing,’ she said. ‘Was it someone else’s?’
    ‘Yeah, but we weren’t going to say that.’
    Before Jess could reply or the others could say anything else, Marta left them. With her clawboard held in one hand she walked out in plain view of the approaching Cross Jumpers. Switch hurried to catch up, while the others followed more nervously.
    ‘What do you want?’ Marta shouted.
    A girl, probably younger than her, stepped forward out of the group. Marta raised an eyebrow. A girl? They had just assumed this Dreggo was a guy. The girl’s angular features were attractive, if a little thin. Her eyes, though, were hard and unforgiving. Marta grimaced. The new leader of the Cross Jumpers didn’t look about to negotiate.
    ‘So, this is it, where the mighty Tube Riders hide.’
    Marta’s heart was pounding, but she had to stand up for the others. Switch would start a suicidal battle they had no hope of winning, while Paul and Simon would probably run and be cut down. Perhaps she could offer a one on one with the girl ... perhaps make a deal ... her mind raced with ideas but none of them stood out, and she knew she would have to trust her intuition, something she often hated to do.
    ‘What do you want? You have no business here.’
    ‘I’m afraid we do,’ the girl said. ‘As of now, the Tube Riders are disbanded. I have an ultimatum for you. Throw your … catching boards … on to the tracks and walk away from the trains and this station for good. Do it and we’ll leave.’
    Marta felt anger welling up inside her. Her brother had begun this, and his legacy lived in every ride she took. She wasn’t about to get forced away from something she loved by some bitch. She held the clawboard tight in both hands. Her board, unlike some of the others, had twin hooks, which she filed daily. They were sharp enough to tear Dreggo’s face clean off.
    ‘No,’ she shouted. ‘This isn’t about the trains, or what we do, is it, Dreggo? There are plenty of abandoned stations in this city for both of us. You know that’s no reason for us to fight. This is about you .’ She held her clawboard across her chest, the hooks facing out. ‘You want to fight, then come on. You and me. Leave the others out