The platform was deserted. Where a hundred commuters would usually stand, there was no-one. Where scheduling announcements would usually scroll, there was nothing. Where the seemingly endless trains would be, there were none.

Jessa and the others climbed down from the platform and stood before the mouth of the impossibly dark tunnel. In normal circumstances, climbing down onto the tracks would probably require a death wish. But these were the most unnormal of circumstances. Jessa felt an undeniable apprehension as they entered the unwelcoming roundness of the tunnel.

Flynn grasped Jessa’s hand.

Hugo opened the backpack and pulled out a powerful torch that lit up the tunnel a great deal. Shedding light on the shadows helped Jessa’s uneasiness, but the torch’s gleaming beam only reached so far, and it made the ebony darkness beyond seem even more sinister.

“What was that?” Jessa whispered suddenly, spinning around and straining her eyes to see in the darkness.

“What is it?” Audrey spun around. Hugo followed her gaze and turned the torch around quickly, shining the light back in the direction they had walked. There was nothing there. “Jessa, don’t frighten me like that.”

“I didn’t mean to; I thought I heard something.”

“The Tube is all locked up, remember?” Hugo said softly. “Nobody else can get down here, don’t worry.”

“And we must be almost there,” said Dr Mortlock.

They walked on, taking slow steps inside the tunnel. Every step echoed. Jessa felt Flynn turn back and look over his shoulder.

“Did you hear something?” she whispered.

“I think my ears are playing tricks on me,” he whispered back.

“Did it sound like footsteps?”

He made no spoken reply, but squeezed her fingers tighter and took a few steps closer to Hugo and Audrey, and that was all she needed to know that they had definitely heard the same thing.

“Hold it,” a man said.

Before Jessa could react, his hands were on her throat.

Hugo shone the light onto the intruder. Jessa winced at the bright light in her eyes and the stench from the man holding her.

“What brings you fine looking folks down here, then?” he breathed his hot, putrid air into Jessa’s face.

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“Nothing that concerns you. Let her go, mate,” Hugo’s hand visibly hovered near the open edge of his jacket, and the weapons hidden beneath.

“How about this? I’ll trade you for her.”

“What do you want?” Audrey said defiantly, her eyes focused on the dirty hand around her sister’s neck.

“How much have you got?” he snarled back.

“You want money?” Audrey huffed. “Fine!” She pulled out her wallet and threw a small pile of notes at him. They separated in the air and floated down over the tracks. She unzipped the coin pocket and turned it upside down, trinkling coins onto the ground.

“More,” he said.

“That’s all we have,” Audrey replied firmly.

“More!” he said again, pulling out a switchblade knife from somewhere unseen.

“Hey, take it easy!” Hugo Fletcher said loudly. “Nobody has to get hurt.”

Jessa felt the cool blade against her soft skin, and her first thought was how quickly she would bleed to death if he made the slice.

“Why don’t you put the knife down, mate?” Hugo said.

The man gripped Jessa tighter, and she whimpered at the pressure from the blade edge on her throat. “I told you what I want!”

“You pig,” Audrey scowled, dropping her smartphone onto the ground and unbuckling her watch. “That watch is the most valuable thing I have, so I hope you enjoy it.”

“You rich assholes,” the man said.

Dr Mortlock subtly put her hand on the back of Hugo’s shoulder. Hugo’s stance changed. His knees locked, his spine straightened, and his chin raised confidently.

A strained groan gurgled from the man’s mouth as though he were struggling with something. Jessa felt the blade lift away from her skin, and the man released the tightness of his clamp on her as he fought to keep hold of his knife.

Audrey and Flynn raced forward to pull Jessa free. When she turned back to look at him, the knife was high in the air, with the man’s arm desperately trying to keep hold of it as it slowly pulled further away from his body. He grunted as it finally moved far enough that he couldn’t hold on to it any longer. His fingers loosened, he let go of the handle, and in release of his applied force, the knife shot away from him, hit the roof of the tunnel and fell to the ground.

Jessa scrambled to pick it up before he could.

She hadn’t anticipated it, but wasn’t surprised when,

Whoosh.

The man’s hands were her own. She could feel the irritating pressure of his dirt-soaked clothing rubbing against his skin with every tiny movement. His entire head itched. The inside of his mouth tasted acidic and fermented like rotten fruit.

He held the knife in one hand and rested the blade against the filthy palm of the other.

“Show me that you bleed for me, as I bleed for you, my friends,” the voice of Silas Lynch came from somewhere else.

The point of the knife pierced his skin with a sharp scratch and a bubble of bright red blood emerged. He scalpelled an angled line.

“Show me your dedication. Show me that you, too, are willing to sacrifice.”

He lifted the blade and drew the other line, crossing over at the top and running down symmetrically.

“When the revolution comes, you will be rewarded for your assistance and your devotion. Brothers and sisters, hear me when I say: the revolution is coming.”

Whoosh.

Jessa dropped the knife with a shudder.

The man tried to shuffle toward it again, but Hugo halted him.

“Nope,” Hugo said. When the man looked up, he stared right into the barrel of Hugo’s weapon. Felicia Mortlock, too, pulled her gun from concealment. Then Flynn. Then Audrey, with shaking hands, held a double grip as she pointed it directly at his face.

“I think you should leave,” said Flynn.

The man’s wild eyes laughed, and his mouth danced under a beard of grime and defeat. He backed away into the darkness, and his limping footsteps faded into the distance.