Chapter 21

Torches shone in my face and blinded me. I screwed my eyes tight until the dancing red spots faded. I slit them open cautiously. Half a dozen hairy faces, cavemen, pressed close. Their smell assaulted me brutally. More hairy bodies lurked and jumped behind them. A light blinded me again. 'All right, OK!' I shouted. 'So you've bloody well got me! Turn off the flaming lights, will you?'

'This here's our platform, feller, the Northern Line platform,' growled the owner of the large hands constricting my upper arm. The torch was turned from my face. I was given a good rattling shake instead. 'So whatcha doin' sneaking up on us like that, huh, guy?' he demanded.

'Hey, look, I wasn't sneaking up on you,' I squeaked. 'Honest!'

A gold tooth gleamed in the partial darkness as his face moved closer. He gave me another shake, rattle and roll. 'Well, you're sure as hell not one of us. So where'd you come from, mate? Hey? What're you doing down here on our platform? Hey?' he demanded. He and the others bloke made Peters' men seem practically human by comparison.

'I got lost in the Tube!' I cried plaintively. I didn't dare tell them I was on the run from the cops, sort of cops, even though they didn't much look as though they'd care.

'What d'you mean, you got lost in the Tube?' the caveman demanded suspiciously. He turned and shouted to a slightly smaller Neanderthal. 'Martin,' he grunted, 'Get that fire going. Real hot.' Talk about menacing looks, this guy had them in spades. He spoke like a brain-damaged cowboy. There was no doubt, though, that he was the boss of whatever it was that was going on down here. His flunky heaped bundled newspapers on top of a great splash of ashes and embers at the edge of the platform. The newspaper flared to a flickering red glow. The other hairy people scrabbled to the side opposite us and squatted down to watch across the smoky fire. They pushed and shoved one another silently for the best spots.

'Ah, well, look, I've been lost in the tunnels since yesterday afternoon,' I explained lamely.

'Now that's just bullshit, feller!' the ape shouted angrily. 'No one goes into the Tube any more!' The rosy glow of the fire lit his rosy eyes. 'What you been doing in that tunnel, mister? You ain't no Tube guy, no maintenance man!' He raised a menacing paw towards me. Some of his pals across the fire shook clubs and umbrellas at me.

'My train stopped,' I whined. 'I got out and walked for the station. It was a power cut that did it. I got lost in the dark. Honest. I didn't even know where I was going. Honest!'

His bearded face curled into a scowl, but his hand lowered. The audience lowered their clubs. 'Hmm,' he grunted. He looked me over carefully. 'You ain't from that Victoria Line platform bunch down there, are you, a spy?' he growled, eyes slitted.

I shook my head earnestly. 'Oh, goodness, certainly not!' I protested with all the revulsion I could summon up. 'I told you the truth, believe me. I've been lost, alone, in the tunnels, just wandering.' I decided to try to tap into his protective instincts, if he had any. 'Look, I haven't had a thing to eat or drink in a day or more. Have you got anything at all you could spare for me?' I asked as plaintively as I could manage, without laying it on too thick.

'We take good care of our people on this platform here,' growled Martin, looking at the Boss for approval. The ones behind the fire nodded their heads solemnly in agreement.

The Boss's lips curled in smug self-satisfaction. 'Yeah, sure, man, we got stuff to eat and drink. Good stuff, real good hospitality. Right, team? Hey?' He stared ferociously at the ragged figures crouching beside the fire.

'That's right, Mick!' cried Martin, bobbing his head, 'Great stuff, all the time.' The others nodded eagerly with Martin. Nodding dogs in the back of the car.

'Well, you know, I'd be extremely grateful if you could possibly share some of it with me,' I replied in what I hoped would be my most ingratiating manner. All right, dear reader, I know you're probably thinking I'm the biggest poltroon of all time, an absolute paragon of poltroonery. But look, I was tired, hungry, thirsty and scared. These guys were really terrifying. They certainly hadn't come out of the right drawer, if they'd crawled out of any sort of drawer at all. It was only sensible to play it their way. All right?

'Yeah, well, maybe,' said Mick, pursing his lips. 'What you got to share with us then, mate?' he asked speculatively.

'Well, not a great deal, I'm afraid,' I said. 'I'm from out of town, you see.' Mick's face shifted back towards an unpleasant expression. 'But I'd be absolutely and totally delighted to contribute very generously towards my expenses, whatever they might be,' I added quickly. I dipped into my jacket and took out my wallet. There was a glimmer of interest. I opened the wallet in his direction. 'Help yourself,' I burbled cheerfully. 'Please, take as much as you need, whatever you want.'

'Naw,' grunted Mick magnanimously, taking my wallet, 'Money don't matter down here any more, feller.' He riffled through the notes and took them out. 'It's all on us poor, stranded commuters, mister. We got plenty of everything we need, practically.' He tilted his chin towards the fire and slipped my banknotes into his pocket. 'Trace, get this guy a can of lager and something to eat.' A small bundle lurched up from the fire and staggered off to a corner.

Mick gestured towards the fire. I sidled gratefully closer to it and squatted. I held my hands up to the flames. I hadn't realised up until then that I was so cold. 'Thanks,' I said, 'Thanks a lot.'

'Hey, don't sweat it, feller,' rumbled Mick indulgently. 'So what's your name, man?' he asked.

'It's Dick,' I replied.

'Well, hey, I'm Mick,' he said jovially, pointing to himself, 'CEO.' A dirty thumb flicked towards his 2IC. 'Martin there's deputy chairman.' He pointed at the hairy bundles around the fire. 'And this here's our senior management team.' They nodded as he named them. 'Andy, Greg, Jimmy, Little Martin, Steve, Johnny, Mike, Jon, Debs, Beck and Trace's what's getting your grub.'

I beamed my most sincere smile. 'It's a real pleasure to meet you,' I said brightly. They all bobbed solemnly back at me. Johnny slipped a nearly empty fifth of scotch out from under his rags, took a goodly pull at it and quickly stuck it back. One of the girls, Debs, snatched the bottle and capered around the fire with it. That got some grins. She guzzled the bottle as she danced. Johnny closed in and grabbed at her. Debs smashed the bottle over his head, spraying everyone with glass fragments. That got a really big laugh. Johnny staggered a few feet, blood pouring down his face and collapsed heavily. Debs ran back to the circle and sat down, looking like a cream-eating cat.

Mick turned his attention back to me, grinning. 'What you do, mister?' he asked.

'Oh, I'm a sort of a civil servant,' I replied. 'A geologist. Guy that studies rocks.'

'Oh yeah?' asked Mick. It was obvious that he didn't think that much of geologists, if he thought anything about them at all. 'Rocks.'

'Uh, and what do you do, Mick?' I asked.

'I trade futures,' he replied enigmatically.

'Oh, really? What kind?'

'Other people's,' he grunted. He probed his crotch briskly with his hand.

I could easily believe he'd been in the City. This was just another form of feeding chain. Best not to pry too much on early acquaintance, however. 'You sheltering down here from the storms?' I asked conversationally.

'You might say that,' replied Mick with a sly grin.

'So how long have you been down here?' I asked.

'Dunno, exactly,' said Mick, 'Maybe two, three, four months, could be longer. Kinda easy to lose track of time down here. No night, no day. Time flies when you're having fun.'

'You was here before me, Mick,' chipped in Debs, 'And I been stranded down here since May, I think. Hmmm, maybe June, July or August.'

'That long?' I gasped.

Mick looked curiously at me. 'Yeah, sure, nobody stays up on the ground now, not full time, anyhow. Where you been, mister, Mars?'

'Well, yes, sort of,' I agreed hastily. 'I mean I haven't exactly been in London for some time. I've been down south on work, you see.'

'So, how'd you get into London then, mister?' asked Debs, mystified. 'There ain't been no trains in nor out of Victoria for well on to three months. We've all been waiting for them. Nothing runs through here now, except for some Tubes towards Richmond. I heard there was some trains into Euston once in a while.'

'Well, I drove into London, you see,' I said. They looked unbelieving. I prayed they wouldn't become suspicion again. 'I used a Land Rover. Good for getting over and around things, you know.' I didn't want to say helicopter, not to this bunch, no, no.

'Oh,' mumbled Debs. She shrugged. 'January, February, March or July,' she crooned.

'I got stuck before Waterloo Bridge and took the Tube from the station,' I improvised.

Greg scratched himself and inspected the offending area carefully. 'Chap last week told me Waterloo Bridge was half down into the Thames,' he commented. 'And nearly all south London under water - except Richmond, of bloody course.'

'Oh, that's absolutely right,' I agreed. 'That's why I took the Tube. No other way into Town any more, really.' Fortunately, Trace returned with the beer and some unidentifiable hunks of rather smelly meat before I could dig myself any deeper into it. 'Thanks,' I muttered gratefully. I crammed the meat into my mouth as fast as I could and yanked the ring off the can.

'You sure do look hungry, mister,' commented Trace. She sat down next to me and wrapped a heavy coat tightly around herself. 'The meat's none too fresh now.' The fire was so low that I couldn't really see her face.

I nodded my head but gobbled the meat anyway. It was no worse than Parma ham or the like. It probably was old ham, I guessed. Not bad, really, given the context. A bit of good Brie and a baguette under the sun and it'd be a treat. I washed it down with the lager and belched softly. 'Thanks a lot,' I repeated. 'I really needed that.'

Mick nodded happily. 'Well, that's all right, mister. I'm sure you'll be able to share with us soon, too.'

I didn't really see how I could share, but I thought it best to agree with anything this guy had to say at the moment. 'Well, I certainly do hope so, Mick,' I said enthusiastically.

'Oh, you will,' Mick replied happily, standing. 'All right, everyone, let's get on back to sleep. Martin, you and Greg take the exits. I'll cover the stairs down to the Victoria Line.' He smiled wolfishly at me. 'Can't have that lot from down there coming up and thieving off us while we sleep, the dirty toerags.' He kicked some cloths towards me in a not unkindly manner. 'These should help keep you warm, mister.' He slipped into the dark after nudging the unconscious Johnny with his foot. The bundles around the fire shifted and quickly formed into still mounds on the concrete of the platform.

I scraped together a nest of trash, wrapped some rags around myself and wadded up a pillow from a couple of discarded jackets. One of them had a wallet in it. I made a mental note to tell them about it tomorrow. I lay down and tried to make myself comfortable. A few minutes later, there was scuffling and a soft whistle. A body bumped gently against me. 'Psst. Hey, mister, you got a lighter on you, huh?' I guessed it might be Debs.

'No, sorry,' I whispered. 'I don't have one.'

'Got any cigarettes?' she asked. She bumped up against me again.

'No, I'm sorry, I don't smoke,' I replied.

'Look, chum, I'll let you do it, if you give me your lighter,' she hissed urgently. Her rags rubbed my rags.

'Look, I really don't smoke,' I said.

She rubbed against me again. 'Come on, pal, give me your ciggies, too, and I'll let you do anything you like, anywhere you want. Know what I mean, hey, big boy?'

Randy as I was after a year of abstinence, I wasn't in the least bit tempted, Lizzie. You're the only one for me, my love. It's true. 'Look,' I hissed, 'You'd be welcome to have my cigarettes and matches for nothing, except I haven't got any, all right?'

'Well, then suit yourself, keep 'em to yourself and fuck yourself, too, squire,' she snarled spitefully, rolling away. 'We'll get them all soon, any road.'

I didn't stop to think what she might possibly mean by that. Stomach grumbling happily over the meat and relaxed by the alcohol, I just fell asleep on the cold platform with no further ado.