Mike Shevdon: Sixty-One Nails

The man beside me looked down, assessing me.

"You feel OK?"

"Yes, the lady helped me."

"We'd best get you to hospital just in case, sir. You're going to need a check up. Nothing to worry about but better safe than sorry, eh?"

"I'll be late for work."

"Better late than never, as they say. Can you walk?"

"I think so."

"It's probably easier to walk you up if you feel up to it. Any sign of dizziness or nausea, though, and we'll bring the trolley down for you. Mark, keep the oxygen handy. What's your name, mate?" He helped me to my feet then to a nearby seat.

"It's Niall."

"Excellent, Niall. I'm Joseph and this is Mark. Just sit there a moment and get your breath back."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"No sense in overdoing it, is there? Take your time."

Mark draped a blanket around my shoulders while I sat there feeling like a fraud and the crew chatted with the platform attendant. I was just thinking that now I really had got an excuse for turning up late for work and that Katherine was probably going to think this was just another way of spoiling her weekend, when I heard a train coming down the tracks.

As the noise grew, my eye caught the movement of one of the tiny grey underground mice that dwell in the cracks under the platform. It scurried quickly under the rail and bolted for cover as the train rattled onto the platform. As it crossed the open space between the rails, a long grey arm shot out from under the platform, snatched the mouse and vanished. The train rushed in, then slowed along the platform in a squeal of brakes. Passengers looked out from behind the glass as it slowed to walking pace, their expressions turning from hopeful to disappointed as the train accelerated again off into the tunnel without stopping.

"Did anyone else see that?" I asked.

"See what?" said Joseph.

I looked at where the mouse had been. "There was a mouse, under the train. And then-"

"Don't worry about them, sir. They live here all the time. They only come out when it's quiet."

I thought about trying to explain about the grey arm, then thought better of it. Maybe I really did need a check-up. "Can we go up now? I think I'm ready."

They helped me to my feet and walked me to the escalators at the gentlest of paces, accompanied by the attendant. The escalator was still working and carried us up to the ticket hall, where we were escorted through the side gate and around to the street exit. Up the stairs at street level the mesh gates had been pulled closed, but were pulled back to allow us out into the listless crowd waiting for the station to re-open. Mark cleared the way while they helped me to the waiting ambulance.

Inside, the ambulance was white and sterile. They insisted that I lay down and was strapped in before driving off. Joseph stayed in the back while Mark went to the driver's seat and used the radio to inform his controller that they were enroute with a conscious patient. Joseph belted himself in and then we were away, siren blaring as the ambulance forced its way into the traffic. We accelerated in a short burst then braked hard as the traffic failed to clear out of the way. The siren wailed at the jammed cars.

Without warning, another stomach cramp twisted violently into my gut, I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut against the pain, pulling against the restraints and grinding my teeth. Then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, it passed. I opened my eyes and the lady was standing over me. She was undoing the belts.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"I am trying to get you out of these wretched straps."

"Stop that. I'm supposed to be going to hospital." There was a sound like a low groan coming from the ambulance.

"You're not going anywhere. The ambulance is dead, can you not hear it?"

I propped myself up on an elbow as she loosened the webbing. Joseph was slumped against the seat belt, Mark had collapsed over the steering wheel and the ambulance siren was making a sound like a stranded white whale.

"How did you get in here?"

"I followed you. I didn't have to walk very far with you in here. As soon as you had a spasm, all the power died and the ambulance stopped. That noise is the siren using up what little power remains. I would turn it off, but I don't know how."

"You're crazy. What have you done to Joseph?"

"He'll be well enough." She grabbed hold of my lapels and hauled me up to a sitting position with surprising strength. "Look, I don't have much time. I need to you to come with me now, away from here and away from the hospital. I don't want anyone looking too closely at you." She flung open the rear door of the ambulance and gestured for me to exit. The sound of car horns blared through the opening from the blocked traffic.

"You're crazy! What are you talking about? I'm not leaving. I'm sick."

"You're fine, you have my word. What are you called?"

"My name is-"

"I didn't ask you what your name is, I asked you what you were called."

"It's the same thing," I told her.

"No," she said, "it really isn't. I shall call you Rabbit."

"I don't care what you call me. I'm going to the hospital."

She shook her head. "No," she said quietly, "you're not."

She grasped my hand in hers. There was a sense of vertigo and a momentary blinding headache.

When I opened my eyes the ambulance had gone. It was almost dark, the threat of dawn glimmering through the overcast clouds. I looked around, but found only rolling grassland fading away into the darkness. I wiped my long hair back from where it clung to my face in the damp air. Fine rain drifted around me.

Twisting around, I half expected to see the ambulance behind me, but found only empty grassland and patches of boggy turf in near blackness. Apart from the wind, there was no sound at all. The breeze was fickle and gusty, tugging at my buckskin jerkin and linen shirt.

I couldn't see more than twenty feet in the dim light. I stuck my hands out around me, trying to break what must be an illusion. The cold breeze twisted through my fingers. Water started seeping into my boots from the soggy turf.

Where had the lady gone? Where was I?

A sound came. It drifted down the wind, too low for a wolf, too long for a bear. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. It howled, long and low, and the primitive part of my brain that knew about caves and monsters kicked my feet into motion.

I found myself stumbling through the darkness away from that sound. My instinct said, Hide, make yourself small. I looked around as I stumbled forward but there was no cover, just stringy tufts of grass and rolling hummocks.

I started running and the howl came again, rolling down the wind after me. Tripping on a tussock of grass, I went down on my knees. Panic brought me up again, my fingers scrabbling in the wiry turf to get up and away. My heart started pounding in my ears as I accelerated away, the long howl louder now as it gained on me. I sprinted, every ounce of energy focused on getting away. Then the headache came again and blinded me.

I crashed into something and went sprawling on the concrete. I was surrounded again by the smell of wet pavement, the distant urban drone of diesel engines and motorbikes. My breath came in harsh barks while my heart drummed a staccato rhythm in my chest. I lay on my back, only thankful that the ground under me was hard and the sound of the hunt had gone. I had beaten it.

A shadow crossed my face and I opened my eyes. It was her.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "It took me a moment to catch up with you."

"What in hell did you do?"

"I used what I called you to create a certain type of reality for you."

"You mean it was real?"

"As real as you made it."

This was insane, but still… "What would have happened if it'd caught me?"