Heathen/Nemesis

Fifty-Nine

Donna cupped one hand over her eyes and saw the lights of King’s Cross through the window as the train slowed to a crawl, preparatory to gliding to a halt.

She was already on her feet, glancing back in the direction of the next carriage where Ryker was. There were a couple of men standing there by the door, waiting for the train to pull in and stop.

Of Ryker there was no sign.

She picked up her suitcase and made her way along the aisle, pausing to inspect the damage to her legs. She’d removed her ripped stockings earlier and now, as she looked down at the patchwork of scratches and grazes, she was relieved that there hadn’t been more damage. There was one cut just above the ankle; it had bled only slightly. She shuddered when she thought what her fate might have been.

The conductor appeared, smiling broadly.

‘Would you like a hand with that case?’ he said.

She accepted the offer gratefully, feeling the train slow down even more as it cruised into the vast amphitheatre of concrete and glass that was the terminus itself. Other trains, some also newly arrived, stood emptily by platforms, their passengers long since departed. At this early hour there weren’t that many people on the concourse. It wouldn’t be so easy to melt into the background.

She glanced behind her to see if she could catch a glimpse of Ryker.

Still he was nowhere to be seen.

She looked at her watch; they were on time. She prayed that Julie was waiting for her.

The conductor was babbling on good-naturedly about long train journeys but Donna scarcely heard what he said. She smiled and nodded as he wittered on, moving towards the door as the train drew into the platform. The conductor pushed the door open and peered up the train to see that others were doing the same.

It finally bumped to a halt. All the doors were thrown open and the uniformed man climbed down first, offering Donna his hand as she stepped onto the platform.

The first thing that struck her was the cold. It was freezing inside the huge building; it was as if someone had sucked every ounce of warm air from the interior and replaced it with icy breath. As she exhaled, her own breath clouded before her.

It was quiet, too, every sound echoing around the cavernous dome. Footsteps on the dark concrete platforms seemed to reverberate inside her head.

She walked quickly beside the conductor, who carried her case towards the barrier. There was no guard there to check tickets. Donna glanced around, looking for Ryker amongst the three or four dozen other people who had left the train along with her.

He was nowhere to be seen.

They were drawing closer to the barrier now and Donna began looking for Julie, praying that her sister was waiting, hardly daring to contemplate what she would do if she wasn’t.

The conductor was still chatting happily. Donna didn’t even bother to acknowledge his ramblings now, her mind was too occupied. Her eyes were too busy picking out faces amongst the other passengers.

Where was Ryker?

She glanced over her shoulder.

He was less than ten yards behind her, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets, walking fast, gaining on her. He pushed past an old woman in his haste to reach Donna, looking at the woman angrily as he nearly tripped over her suitcase.

Donna tried to quicken her pace, hoping the conductor would do likewise.

Ahead of her were half a dozen people, two of them pushing trolleys laden with luggage. Donna looked back at Ryker, then ahead once more.

She quickly slipped ahead of the trolley pushers as one of them blocked the exit, manoeuvring his way through. Those behind were prevented from going any further.

Including the conductor.

He walked to the barrier and handed Donna her case over the rail.

‘I’ll be okay from here,’ she told him, seeing Ryker drawing nearer. ‘Thank you for your help.’ She took the case and spun round.

The first trolley was still stuck, its owner now flustered, aware that he was blocking everyone else’s way.

Ryker pushed against the back of a man trying to get through and got an angry glare for his pains. He could see Donna on the other side of the barrier heading towards a dark-haired woman, whom she embraced.

They headed for the car park outside.

Ryker vaulted the barrier and ran after them, slipping one hand into his jacket, touching the hilt of the knife.

He ran out through the main doors and looked to his right and left.

No sign of them.

He scurried over to the taxi rank. None of the vehicles had just picked up. There was no sign of Donna or the other woman. He stood on the pavement, hands on his hips.

‘Fuck,’ he rasped, knowing he’d lost them. He turned and walked slowly back into the station, heading for the payphones. He found one that took money rather than a card and dialled a number.

His hands were shaking.

It was picked up after a couple of rings.

‘Farrell,’ the voice at the other end said.

‘It’s Ryker,’ he said, trying to control the anxiety in his voice.

‘Well?’

‘We lost her.’

At the other end the phone was slammed down.