4
A man staggered out of the subway tunnel, passing from the gloomy dark into the pale florescence of the station. An unfortunately empty station.
“The people? Where are all the people?” cried the man.
He did not know what time it was. Days, minutes, and hours had no meaning in the Undercity.
“It must be late, that’s all. I will find people.” He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
He looked over his shoulder, but he could hear no pursuit.
“They’re coming though. Oh yes, they are after me,” he said in a harsh whisper.
Carefully avoiding the third rail he ran to the platform and climbed up. A train would come soon, a train to take him away. He clutched a satchel close to his body and the clink of glass rattled through the silence of the station. The vials were safe. They had
