Chapter Nine
Tom got home at about 10.11 a.m. He had hurried because he wanted make the most of all the available daylight and he only had about six hours of it left. He knew he had to return to North End to find out what had become of the girl, or Jodie as he now believed her name to be. But he did not want to do so while it was dark. This was partly because he felt that the creatures were nocturnal and partly because like most humans he felt much safer during the day. The fact that he would be underground did not change the way he felt about this.
He also had to hurry because in the unlikely event that Jodie was still alive after one-and-a-half days, every minute could now be her last. This last thought made him hurry more. He quickly changed his trainers for some sturdy walking boots, and his fleece for a t-shirt and an army style jacket with lots of pockets.
He then went to the kitchen to get his mother’s small but sharp kitchen knife for protection. It had its own cover and he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket next to the small crow bar he also took, to open the emergency exit door of North End’s surface building. In his other inside pocket he put his sheet of paper which had the downloaded times of tubes between Golders Green and Hampstead - for some reason London Underground did not produce a timetable. He also put his long powerful torch, which could be used as a weapon, in this pocket.
Just over a half ‘n hour later, he approached with caution the fenced-off area of the surface building of North End. He had thought about entering the disused station from Golders Green tube station by running down into the tunnel when no one was looking. But he felt it would be too risky. It might have taken a tube about two minutes or so to get to the disused station but he would obviously be slower. No, he would have to enter the tube tunnel from the disused station: it would not be as dangerous.
It was 11.11 a.m. He almost smiled when he saw a sign on the right-hand gate saying ‘Keep clear Exit from emergency escape route.’ Yes, he thought to himself, it truly was an emergency escape route. But he was not in the mood for brevity and was feeling quite nervous and scared, now beginning to realise just how dangerous what he intended to do would be. He also noticed that the clouds in the sky were much darker than before and that it would probably rain. He hoped this was not a bad omen.
He looked around him and could not see anyone else. He then looked at the houses above the wall opposite across the road from where he was, to see if anyone was looking but could see nothing. After this he quickly grabbed two metal spikes at the top of the wide green gates, put his right foot in the hole where the padlock bolt was, and heaved himself over into the fenced off area.
This time he landed safely, and quickly got up and looked around him in the direction he had come to see if anyone had seen him. He then looked back at the white surface building of North End. There was a door in front of him but the door he had escaped from the other night was further to the left hidden from outside the fenced off area by some trees. He went over to it, still looking furtively around him.
As he got closer he could see that the door was still open a little. He stopped, tense and afraid, and got his mother’s kitchen knife out of his pocket in case there was anyone or ‘anything’ there. He then grabbed the door with his left hand and slowly pulled it fully open, at the same time using it as a shield in case there was any danger. His heart beat was becoming very fast, his body full of adrenalin, and he had the knife in his right hand at the ready.
But there was no one there.
The small landing with the steps leading down from where he had staggered up the other night was empty. He breathed out heavily with relief and entered the building. He then decided to shut the door in case someone noticed it from outside. This was unlikely but he did not want to take any chances.
He put his knife away, got his torch out, and turned it on. He then closed the door as quietly as he could and went to look at some signs in front of him. From below he heard a tube coming. Then suddenly he got a fright as the door behind him opened again. His ears popped with the change of pressure and he panicked as he quickly looked back at the now open door.
But again there was no one there and he quickly realised that he obviously had not closed the door completely; it must have opened with the force of the wind coming up the shaft. Bloody Hell, he thought to himself, at this rate I’ll have a heart attack. The tube then completely passed, he calmed himself down, and pulled the door closed again, this time properly.
He looked closely at the signs. One of them was a map of the shaft and the lower levels. He examined this, seeing if it differed in any way from the memories of his last visit and what he had seen on the internet. It did not seem to and he looked at the other two, which said the depth of the shaft was 35 metres and there were 197 steps.
Tom remembered those steps very well from the other night with no fondness. He then began to slowly and as quietly as he could walk down them. His senses were very alert and every small sound he heard made him tenser. He heard another tube pass down below, feeling the cold wind on his skin.
After a few flights of the stairs in this narrow rectangular staircase he came across the doorway he had hurriedly passed the other night. He waited for another tube to pass and then opened the door. Inside the room on a low platform was a large engine, probably that of the lift which he remembered was a little further below. He flashed his torch around the room again just in case and then closed its door, quietly.
He moved on down another few flights until he encountered another door, this time open. It moved in the wind from a passing tube below. He remembered that this was the door he had been too exhausted to close the other night. It led out to the lift and the long open circular shaft with the metal stairway.
Here he stopped and took some deep breaths. His body felt tight with fear and was a little wet with sweat. He decided he had better turn off his torch in case ‘someone’ saw its beam from below; he realised he should have done this before. He then passed through and looked over the railing down into the middle of the staircase, seeing if he could see any signs of movement. He also looked at the lift door, thinking how good it would be if it worked. He then breathed deeply again and began the journey down into the darkness.
He walked as quietly as he could but he knew that ‘anyone’ listening down below would probably be able to hear him. Visibility was not good but his eyes were now quite used to the darkness. Every few minutes or so he could hear and feel tubes passing below. Gradually he reached the bottom flight of stairs. He had walked down about 120 steps and there were about ten to go. He stopped and gathered himself. He knew he was near the disused station proper and there was a long way back up to escape to the surface.
He got his knife out again in his right hand, putting the torch in his left hand, and walked down carefully. As he turned onto the final few steps, another tube passed. He stopped, waited for it to go, and then listened for any signs of movement. He could not hear anything and descended to the bottom, his eyes quickly darting around him.
He passed the lift door and then approached the narrow staircase which veered to the left. He could hear his heart beating now and feel his breathing became shorter. He went down the 12 or so steps and crossed over a small safety ramp, which he had not noticed before, covering a crack in the ground.
At the end of this passageway he could see a room with a sign on it saying ‘control room’ past the door leading to the bridge to the platforms. He cautiously approached the bridge door and peered through it to see if ‘anyone’ was there. There was not and moved over to the control room’ door, which he tried to open. But it was locked. He exhaled with relief at this, for it meant he did not have to explore another room.
He then returned to the door leading to the bridge over the southbound tunnel. He remembered having tried to close this heavy door the other night before he saw one of the creatures chasing him. He shuddered a little at this. Another tube passed by. When it left he entered the bridge passageway. He moved quickly
to the end of it at the point it sharply turned left to the wide staircase leading down to the platform level. He crouched down and slowly poked his head around the corner. He wanted to have a good look at the bottom of the stairs, which formed a t-junction between the north and southbound tunnels of the disused station.
He waited here, looking down intently for any signs of movement. He then got up and walked down. He could feel the tension growing in him as he reached the bottom. He quickly looked round the corner on the right to see if ‘anyone’ was there. There was no one.
He then quickly went to the left of the stairs, where he had noticed there was a hole in the wall, which must lead to the southbound ‘platform area’, where the creatures’ den was. He looked through it and waited a few seconds to see if he could hear anything; he certainly could not see much. There was nothing. He moved on back to the right of the stairs.
He was now at the northbound platform area that had been bricked-off and at the open part railed-off from the tube part of the tunnel for safety. He went down the stairs quickly in a half-crouched stance, and then rushed past the small concreted area on his right over to the stairs leading back up. Here he stopped and cautiously peered over the floor level at the top of the stairs through the mesh grill of the stair railings.
He stayed there, admitting to himself that he was more frightened than he had ever been and debated about going back. The girl was probably dead by now anyway, he thought. He continued doing this for what seemed a long time until another tube approached and passed by. He then cursed his cowardice and forced himself to move.
He was still in a half-crouched position and quickly went over to the entrance on his right leading to the other double-staircase, which was completely dark. At the bottom of this he looked up but could see nothing. He now knew that this led back over the southbound tunnel to a dead end a level below the lift shaft. Because it did lead nowhere he thought he would be safe here.
He quickly went over to the emergency stairway to see if any of the creatures were around in the ‘southbound platform area’. Satisfied they were not, he returned to the wide staircase, where he sat down. Here, he got out his paper showing the tube times and then checked his watch: It was 12.02 p.m. Hell, he thought, it had taken him nearly an hour to get down here.
He examined the paper with the tube times in the half light with his torch. According to it a tube had just left Golders Green and would reach Hampstead tube station at 12.04 p.m. He drank some of the bottled water he had bought from a shop on the way and waited for the tube from his position at the bottom of the stairway. He still looked around him carefully, his nerves on edge.
Just after 12.02 p.m. he could hear the tube coming. As it passed he checked the next times. He had already done this on his way to North end from his house but now as he was about to risk his life he wanted to be certain. There was another tube leaving Golders Green at 12.05 p.m., then another at 12.09 p.m. This gave him about four minutes in the tunnel to find the creatures’ hideaway. It could of course be more or less time than this depending on how well the Northern line was running that day.
It was now 12.05 p.m. and he knew that he could not wait too long before he went into the tunnel: the longer he waited the more he would convince himself not to carry out his plan. He put his knife, water, and ‘timetable’ back in his jacket. He would have to act fast and could not have both his torch and his knife in his hands. He then went down the small emergency stairway into the southbound ‘platform area’.
He quickly but carefully made his way to the mouth of the tube tunnel, where the creatures’ den was. Just in front of it to the right there were some tarpaulin-covered bricks. He sat down in front of these, facing the tunnel. He tried to keep his fear at bay but did not really succeed.
He could hear the tube coming. He became even more tense. He was not worried about being seen from the tube as he was hidden by the tarpaulin and the tube would pass by too quickly. But he wanted to be able to see down the tunnel as much as he could from the lights of the tube before it went in. It got louder and windier and then it came.
His eyes focused on the tunnel in front as the tube noisily approached. He could see about ten metres ahead but there was no sign of an entrance to any hideaway. All he could see were the small rectangular metal sections of most of the tunnel looking like an inside out rubber bicycle handle. He knew the entrance was there, however, and when the tube passed he got up and ran behind it.
He could not go too fast because of the tracks underneath and his having to carry his torch. He was careful to avoid the two live rails and kept in between them. His adrenalin was now running through his veins and his only thoughts were to find the entrance to the creatures’ hideaway. He moved on pointing his torch to the left and right of the tunnel. He was very tense and wanted to find it as soon as he could. He did not want to die under a tube.
After he had been in the tunnel for about a minute and gone about 20 metres, he started to panic a little. It must be here somewhere, he thought. The other night the creatures had not been far when he heard them hustled together. He checked his watch: it was 12.09 p.m. Damn, he thought. There would be another tube in a minute or so. He even thought he began to hear it coming in the distance, or was it the wind?
He looked around him. Where was the bloody entrance? he asked himself. It must be here somewhere but all he could see were the metal sections making up the tunnel. He could now definitely hear the tube in the distance, getting nearer all the time, and he could feel the wind picking up in the tunnel. If he had known it would have taken this long to find it, he would never have attempted this.
He then decided to run back towards the platform area. It was about 25 metres away. But it was too late: he could now see a faint light in the tunnel of the tube coming down the tunnel straight at him. He panicked. Bloody Hell! he thought. I am going to die.
He looked all around him for some place he could squeeze into for safety. The tube was getting closer and closer and he began to hear its noise and could feel the wind now blowing on his face.
Then when it was about 40 metres away he noticed a small part of the bottom of the wall of the tunnel, flapping a little on his left. It was about three metres away. He had not noticed it before: the tunnel walls near the floor had seemed to be all complete and without any holes or openings. But he could see now that it was some kind of thick black material covering some kind of opening.
He rushed towards it. He nearly got there but the tube was coming too quick. Now it really was too late.