“If you didn’t know what was going on down here,” Happy said craftily, “then you can’t be sure the Project isn’t behind it, can you? Hah! Got you there!”
“If the Project is in any way involved, it would have been decided at a much higher level than we have access to,” Erik said tiredly. “All field agents are mushrooms, you know that, kept in the dark and fed shit on a regular basis. How do you know this isn’t the result of some major cock-up by your higher-ups?”
“Because we don’t do things like that,” said Melody.
“Yeah, right,” said Erik.
Happy looked at JC. “Sounds like they were dropped in the deep end, unarmed and unprepared, just like us. If you believe them, which I prefer not to, on general principles.” He glared at Natasha. “And don’t you think I’ve forgotten what you did to me, bitch. What you made me do. I can still taste blood in my mouth and feel loose teeth with my tongue. I should smack you a good one right in the mouth, so you can see what it feels like. Except that I’m a better man than that. I am. I really am. Oh the hell I am . . .”
He punched her in the mouth. Her head swung round under the impact. Happy stood over her, breathing hard. And then Natasha turned her face back and sneered at him.
“Is that it? You punch like a junkie.”
Happy went to hit her again. JC grabbed his arm, stopping him. Happy glared at JC, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
“Why not, JC? Give me one good reason.”
“Because we’re supposed to be better than that.”
Happy pulled his arm free. JC didn’t try to hold on to him. Happy sniffed. “You might be, JC. I’m still working on it.”
“You don’t know what they did to him, JC,” said Melody. “What they did to us when you weren’t there to protect us. That little toad used a taser on me. Over and over again. And laughed while he did it.” Melody’s machine-pistol moved closer to Erik’s head, as though pulling Melody’s hand behind it. “You have no idea how much it hurt, JC. My gut muscles still ache. You don’t know how helpless and violated he made me feel while he hurt me. Do we really need both of them alive, JC?”
“Yes,” he said. “If you feel the need to do something, you can search them both for weapons. Feel free to be exceedingly thorough.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Melody.
She stuck the barrel of her pistol under Natasha’s chin and made her stand up. Then she made Natasha turn around and lean forward against the wall, with all her weight on her hands. Melody searched Natasha from head to toe, with a carefully impersonal roughness. She found a whole bunch of hidden pockets and concealed pouches, and soon a small pile of assorted weapons and devices had formed at Natasha’s feet. Melody checked her over twice, to be sure, then stood back and allowed Natasha to turn around. The Project agent looked at the pile on the ground and smiled disarmingly.
“A girl should always be prepared.”
“Shut up,” said Melody.
She was even more thorough, and rougher, with Erik. His pile of weapons and assorted weird shit turned out to be even bigger than Natasha’s. Including several guns, three knives, a full surgeon’s kit, a whole bunch of arcane items that Melody was careful to handle only with her fingertips and at arm’s length, and an Aboriginal pointing bone.
“Oh goody,” said Happy. “I’ve always wanted one of those.”
“Hands off, man,” JC said sternly. “You know very well you’re not allowed killing tools.” He nodded to Melody, and she tucked the bone away in one of her inside pockets. She then searched Erik again, and when she finally gave up and stood back, he turned around and smiled at her.
“Thank you. A little rougher next time, perhaps. Still, was it good for you, too?”
Melody kneed him briskly in the groin and walked away. Erik bent painfully forward.
“I do wish people would stop doing that.”
“You’re weird,” said Happy. “And I know weird.” He looked at the pack on Erik’s back. “Melody . . .”
“He can keep his cat computer,” said Melody. “I don’t want anything to do with the nasty thing.”
“Maybe you should take a few pills, Happy,” Natasha said sweetly. “Oh yes, we know all about your little adventures in chemistry. You should really be working for us. We don’t have to hide our vices, at the Crowley Project; we glory in them. They make us stronger.” And then she looked at JC, and Kim. “Although there are limits. What is
“She’s with me,” said JC.
“So it’s all right to eat ghosts,” said JC. “But not love them?”
“Yes! Exactly!” said Natasha. “Pervert!”
“That’s enough,” said JC, and immediately Natasha and Erik looked away, unable to meet his gaze, even muffled behind sunglasses.
And then everyone on the platform looked round sharply, as the sound of something large and heavy approaching blasted out of the far tunnel-mouth. The deafening roar drew steadily nearer, building and building until the platform itself began to shake and tremble beneath their feet.
“What the hell . . . ?” said Melody.
“It’s not a train,” said Happy. “Doesn’t sound even a bit like a train.”
“Could be another hell train,” said JC, again moving automatically to put his body between Kim and danger.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
And then a great dark tidal wave of crimson blood slammed out of the tunnel-mouth, pouring into the station and swamping the rails. More blood gushed out of the other tunnel-mouth, and when the two crimson waves met in the middle of the station, they pounded together so hard the blood flew up to slap the ceiling. More blood came pouring in, blasting out of both tunnel-mouths at once as though it was under tremendous pressure, forced on by more behind. Gallons and gallons of the dark red blood poured in, as though an ocean of blood had found an opening into the everyday world. The stench was appalling, filling the air. The level of the blood rose quickly, lapping against the side of the platform. By the time they had all gathered their senses enough to start backing away, the blood had already overrun the edge of the platform and spilled across the yellow safety line. And still more blood came rushing in, from both sides at once. JC turned to the exit, only to step quickly aside as a great rush of blood surged through the archway, spilling across the platform. Everyone backed quickly away.
Kim hovered in mid air, keeping her feet well above the rising level of blood; but the others had no such escape. The blood was already up to their ankles and rising fast. The spoiled-carrion stench of the stuff was overpowering. Melody glared at Happy.
“Is this real? Or another illusion?”
“Of course it’s real, it’s already past my ankles! Can’t you smell it? This is extremely real blood; though I hate to think where it’s all coming from.”
“Not just blood,” said Erik. He dipped a fingertip into the rising blood and sucked it thoughtfully. “This is human blood.”
“How can you be so sure?” said Melody.
“Trust me,” said Natasha. “You really don’t want to know.”
“I think you can forget about rescuing any of those poor lost commuters,” said Erik. “I wonder what it’s done with the bones . . .”
“Look, this blood really is rising very quickly,” said Happy. “If we don’t find a way out of here soon, we’re going to be swimming in the stuff. Until it reaches the ceiling . . .”
JC looked at him, then at Natasha. “You’re telepaths. Our enemy has to be behind this, controlling the blood. So, working together, could you disrupt his control?”
“Not a hope in hell,” said Happy. “We have to find a way out of here!”
“Keep calm, man,” said JC. “Panic never solved anything.”
