Harvey drew a deep breath and felt the heavy dampness settle in his lungs. For a moment, sitting beside the weak fire among the others, he felt closer to them than to the rest of the world.
Yet he knew how fragile everything was.
The fire. The tea. The laughter.
In the Tube, the law was written nowhere. It was simply survived, one day at a time.
As long as they still had the steam from a cup of bitter tea and a flame that had not yet gone out, they could carry on.
At least for one more day.
And in the Tube, one more day was already a victory.
Somewhere in a tunnel buried between Canary Wharf and oblivion, Adrian opened his eyes.
The silence was unlike the ordinary silence of the Tube. There was no steady dripping of water, no scurrying of rats, only a dense, oppressive stillness that seemed to crush whatever remained alive.
Two figures stood above him. The rail vehicle moved slowly through the darkness, its headlamp making the brickwork tremble faintly along the walls. Adrian tried to move, but straps pinned his body to the cold metal floor.
He understood that he was a prisoner.
‘Who the hell are you?’
Neither man answered.
Adrian searched his fractured memory: the manager, the document, the journey… Mason.
‘What have you done to Mason?’
A short, crooked laugh travelled along the tracks.
The document was missing. The message meant for Green Park had been intercepted, and somewhere beneath London, someone already knew exactly what it contained.
The mission had never been routine.
It had been a trap.
Discover more from the post-apocalyptic world of The London Tube. The first three chapters are available to read free at www.thelondontube.co.uk.
I no longer know how long I have been walking. The air grows heavier with every step, and the beam of my torch is beginning to weaken. At first, I believed the sounds around me were nothing more than echoes. Water dripping through old pipes. Metal contracting in the cold. My own footsteps returning from the darkness.
I was wrong.
There is something here.
At first I tried to explain what I heard. Lack of oxygen. Exhaustion. Fear. But explanations become harder to believe with every passing hour.
I hear howls somewhere ahead. Sometimes I catch movement beyond the edge of the light. Shapes. Figures. Things that seem human for a moment before disappearing into the darkness again.
I still have ammunition. Enough to defend myself against anything made of flesh and bone. But what use is a rifle if the torch finally dies? What use is a weapon if the light disappears and I am left alone in the dark?
Every time I stop, the sounds stop with me.
Every time I begin to walk again, they move as well.
They are following me.
And now I can hear them breathing.
I no longer know whether they are real or whether this place is destroying my mind little by little. I tell myself there must be an explanation. That the stale air is affecting me. That fear is distorting my senses. Yet each explanation feels weaker than the last.
I want to run, but I cannot.
Something is approaching.
And for the first time since entering this tunnel, I no longer have the feeling that I am searching for a way out.
Deep beneath London, some discoveries are more dangerous than weapons.
Harvey never expected to find a small green figurine hidden among abandoned files, rusted cabinets and forgotten memories. In a world where every object has value and every secret carries a price, even the smallest clue can change everything.
What was it doing there? Who brought it into the tunnels? And why does it matter now?
Explore the world of The London Tube and read exclusive extracts from the novel on our website.
He had forgotten what silence sounded like above ground.
Snow drifted across the empty streets, covering abandoned cars, broken windows and the memories of a city that no longer belonged to the living.
Harvey adjusted the straps of his gas mask and looked towards the skyline. Somewhere beyond the frozen ruins stood the world he had once known. A world of crowded trains, hurried footsteps and ordinary mornings.
Now there was only survival.
And the Underground was running out of places left to hide.
Discover more stories from beneath London and download the first three chapters free at The London Tube.
“You haven’t been around for a while,” Jack muttered, his low, rusted voice cutting through the silence like something heavy dragged across concrete. “I was beginning to think you’d built yourself a cabin on the surface and forgotten the rest of us down here, among the rust, the mould, and whatever still moves in the dark.”
Harvey allowed himself a tired smile.
“Really? And where exactly do you think I could’ve disappeared to, Jack? If I’d found an island, I’d have taken you with me.”
A man standing in the shadows spoke without looking up.
“Kensington Gardens… I heard there’s still an empty bench near the fountain. If you don’t mind the rain.”
A few weary chuckles echoed through the checkpoint.
“Maybe Hyde Park.”
“Or the London Eye,” Jack added, shaking his head. “Perhaps one of the pods is still turning.”
No one was truly laughing.
There was no room for humour in the Tube anymore.
Sometimes, though, people pretended to laugh because pretending was easier than admitting what they had become. Old jokes, worn-out memories, and pointless conversations kept a fragile routine alive.
And in a world that had lost almost everything…
Routine was another word for survival.
If you enjoyed this glimpse into The London Tube, you can read the first three chapters for free and discover more about Harvey Hunter’s journey beneath the ruins of London at www.thelondontube.co.uk.
Twenty five years after the world collapsed, Harvey still climbs to the surface.
Not for answers. Not anymore.
In The London Tube, the surface is a place of ruins, silence and memories that refuse to die. Beyond the safety of the Underground, Harvey searches for traces of the people he lost, crossing a broken London where every journey could be his last.
Somewhere beyond the river and beneath those storm clouds lies the truth he has been chasing for years.
Read more about Harvey’s journey and download the first three chapters free at:
Twenty five years after the fall, London still stands.
The glass towers remain, the streets still trace the same paths, and the skyline is as familiar as ever. Yet there is no traffic, no voices, no light behind the windows. Only silence.
In The London Tube, the greatest danger is not what waits beneath the city, but what remains above it.
Read more about the world of The London Tube and download the first three chapters free at:
Recovered from the archives of Green Park Station, twenty-five years after the Collapse. My dear friend, If you are reading these lines, it means I am no longer among you. But do not be too quick to believe I have vanished completely. The tunnels keep more than corpses and echoes. Do you remember the evenings when we used to walk down towards Green Park after long days at Barclays Capital? Piccadilly was still alive with light then, and the Underground seemed eternal. Trains arrived. People complained about delays. The city breathed without even noticing it. Now nothing remains of that world. Only darkness. Only silence. Only the footsteps of those still trying to survive between stations. We once said that humanity lived in organised chaos. We believed systems held everything together. We believed reason would always prevail. Now only the chaos remains. Hunger. Suspicion. Nameless dead. Our last conversation was brief. We stood looking into an empty tunnel and you said something I have never forgotten: “Twenty-five years of peace doesn’t guarantee another twenty-five.” You were right. After 2013, everything began to fail, slowly at first. One crack. Then another. A trade route lost. A station abandoned. A treaty broken. By the time people realised what was happening, the fractures had already spread through the entire network. Do you remember our meetings? Forty people around the same table. Managers, councillors, economists, engineers. Every sentence another move in a game none of us truly understood. Back then we still believed strategy could hold the darkness back. We were naive. Every one of those people, with their expensive suits and impressive degrees, was only another cog inside a machine that never belonged to us. You were different. You were the first to sense that something deep beneath London was beginning to fail. That is why I always respected you. I am no longer there beside you now. But that does not mean I have disappeared. I remain in the silence between stations. In the sound of water moving through forgotten pipes. In the distant echoes that follow lonely footsteps through abandoned tunnels. I will watch your path as I always have, even if you can no longer see me. You are not alone. There are still those who endure beside you. But be careful, my friend. The greatest dangers do not come from the darkness. Nor from the creatures above. They come from those who speak of order while spreading chaos. Those who promise salvation while pursuing control. They do not wish to build. They wish only to inherit the ashes. I ask only one thing of you. Do not allow everything we built to disappear. Bring the stations together again. Restore the government. Give people direction. Give them purpose. Give them something larger than survival. If anyone can do that, it is you. And when you walk through the empty passages of Green Park, hearing nothing except your own footsteps, remember what I loved most about the Underground. Not the stations. Not the trains. Not the city above. It was that rush of compressed air before a train arrived. That brief moment when darkness moved. The promise that something was about to emerge. Now nothing comes anymore. Only the wind. And the smell of death. When everything seems lost, remember how much we built from nothing. Remember how long we endured. Remember that even underground, humanity refused to disappear. I have no time left. Nor any light. I leave you only these words. Igor
Years ago, I discovered Metro 2033 and was fascinated by the idea of people surviving beneath a ruined city.
One question stayed with me: what would happen if the same thing happened in London?
That question eventually became The London Tube.
What started as a simple idea grew into a 134,000 word novel, set twenty five years after humanity was driven underground, where stations became settlements, tunnels became roads, and survival became a way of life.
If Metro 2033 ever made you wonder what life might look like beneath another city, perhaps The London Tube is for you.
The first three chapters are available free at The London Tube
At thirty eight years old, Harvey has spent more time surviving than truly living.
The London he once knew is gone, replaced by abandoned stations, flooded tunnels and impossible choices. Every scar he carries tells the story of someone he couldn’t save, every step forward is driven by the hope that there is still something worth fighting for beneath the ruins.
He isn’t searching for glory. He isn’t trying to become a hero.
He’s simply trying to remain human in a world that seems determined to take that away.
That quiet determination is what defines Harvey. Not his strength, not his height, not the weapon in his hands, but the refusal to surrender when everything around him has already fallen.
If you want to walk beside him through the darkness beneath London, the first three chapters of The London Tube are available to download for free on www.thelondontube.co.uk.
Sometimes the greatest battles aren’t fought against monsters. They’re fought against the voice inside that tells you to stop. Harvey never listens.
What if the London Underground became humanity’s last refuge?
The London Tube is a post apocalyptic survival novel set beneath the ruins of London, inspired by the atmosphere and tension that made Metro 2033 unforgettable.
People often ask me why I started writing The London Tube. The answer is actually quite simple. Around 75% of the novel was written during the COVID lockdowns in 2020. Like many others, I suddenly found myself with more time than ever before, and I needed somewhere to escape. I found that escape in books and games, especially Metro 2033. I was fascinated by its atmosphere, the underground world, and the feeling that humanity could survive beneath the surface. One day I thought, What if London had its own story? Some people might say that I copied Dmitry Glukhovsky, but the truth is quite the opposite. Glukhovsky himself encouraged writers from different countries to create their own stories set in the Metro universe. That’s why novels were written in countries such as Poland, Italy and France, among others. My goal was never to imitate his work but to imagine how London, its Underground and its people would face the same impossible circumstances. The most rewarding part of writing wasn’t simply putting words on a page. It was living inside the story. While writing, I wasn’t sitting at my desk anymore. I was there. I could see the tunnels, hear every distant sound, smell the damp air and walk beside the characters through the darkness. Since 2020, I have rewritten, edited and refined the manuscript countless times. Life and a lack of free time slowed the process more than once, but I never gave up on it. Every revision brought the story closer to what I had imagined in my head all those years ago. Today, the novel is being reviewed by a literary agent, and for the first time I genuinely feel that publication is within reach. After years of work, frustration, rewriting and persistence, the finish line finally seems close. If everything goes to plan, I hope to hold the published book in my hands this September. And honestly, I can’t wait for you to step into the tunnels with me.
What’s something you’d love to see in the future, but know you probably won’t live to witness?
I’ll probably never see humans living on Mars or travelling between planets as easily as we fly across countries today.
But I hope it happens.
Some dreams are worth chasing even if they belong to future generations, because every great step forward begins with someone who believes the impossible can become reality.
The silence was unlike the silence of the Tube. There was no rhythmic drip of water, no rustling of rats, only a dense, crushing stillness that seemed to press down on everything still alive. He could barely see. Two figures stood over him while the rail vehicle moved slowly through the tunnel, its headlamp cutting into the darkness ahead and making the bricks shimmer faintly. The wheels made no sound at all. Nothing. Only the unsettling feeling that they were gliding through the tunnel rather than travelling. He tried to move, but his body felt impossibly heavy. His head throbbed, his neck refused to respond, and the air smelled of rust, wet clothes and something else he could not name. He realised he was a prisoner, yet his mind could not piece together the last few hours. The nightmare was too quiet to be a dream and too real to deny. Some places beneath London do not echo with footsteps. They remember them. Download Chapter One-three for free and discover the beginning of The London Tube.
Rain falls over London without mercy, soaking the streets, the rooftops, and the windows of ordinary people who still believe it is just another cold October morning. Harvey stands by the glass, watching a skyline blurred into shadows, feeling something he cannot explain.
The rain washes everything, but cleans nothing.
Inside the flat, quiet conversations drift between family members. A kettle struggles to boil. A brother stares into silence. Outside, the city carries on, unaware that within hours the world they know will disappear forever.
Sometimes the end does not begin with explosions or panic.
Sometimes it begins with a single ordinary morning that feels slightly wrong.
The London Tube is a story about survival, impossible choices, and the people who refuse to surrender when civilisation collapses beneath their feet.
Download the free three chapters, explore the world, and share your thoughts in the comments. Every journey into the Underground starts with a single step.
The corridor seemed wider than it needed to be, as though someone had carved out extra space for fear to settle in. Rust stained the sheet metal walls, condensation dripped steadily onto the cracked concrete, and the smell of stale smoke clung to the air long before Harvey reached the end of the passage.
Somewhere ahead, laughter echoed through the darkness. Bottles clinked. A saxophone struggled against the noise, its melody dissolving into conversations nobody would remember by morning.
He pulled his coat tighter and kept walking.
The station’s only pub had become a refuge for scouts, traders and people desperate to forget the world above. Harvey had never understood the appeal. Down here, alcohol always tasted of smoke, metal and burnt plastic. If he risked his life on the surface, he brought back food, filters and tools, not another excuse to lose himself.
The crooked door appeared through the haze, hanging unevenly from rusted hinges.
He pushed it open.
Warm air struck him at once, thick with damp wood, cigarette smoke and old whisky. Gas lamps flickered across tired faces, stretching shadows over the walls until they resembled silent figures waiting in the dark. Somewhere beyond the tables, musicians played softly enough that the music felt like another memory refusing to die.
Harvey scanned the room without sitting down.
He had not come for a drink.
He had come for a name, a rumour, a single trace that might lead him to two missing men.
And beneath the noise, beneath the smoke and the music, time continued slipping away. Every minute lost inside the Underground was another chance for someone to vanish forever.
Harvey stepped out into the frozen silence with only a map, a rifle and the weight of every life depending on his choices. The ruined streets beyond Hyde Park offered no certainty, only abandoned landmarks, drifting snow and the constant possibility that something was watching from the darkness.
Inside the shattered halls of Buckingham Palace, every room seemed to remember a different world. Torn portraits, collapsed ceilings and silent corridors led him deeper beneath the ruins, where reality itself began to fracture. Time slipped away, strange visions blurred the line between memory and hallucination, and even the sound of a familiar voice threatened to pull him away from his mission.
Yet the truth waiting at the end of that journey was greater than anything he had imagined. Hidden beneath decades of destruction lay a secret capable of deciding the fate of the Underground settlements. In a world where hope had almost vanished, Harvey was forced to make a choice that could save thousands, or erase everything that remained.
Sometimes survival is not about staying alive. Sometimes it is about making sure someone else still has a future worth living for.
If I could erase one book from my memory just to read it again, it would be Metro 2033. I loved it so much that I read it in several different languages, always hoping to rediscover that same feeling of stepping into its dark, haunting world for the very first time.
When it comes to movies, it’s impossible to choose between The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. No matter how many times I watch them, they never lose their magic. If I had the chance, I’d happily experience both trilogies all over again with fresh eyes. 📚🎬
Harvey had walked through enough tunnels to believe they all looked the same. Cold concrete, dripping walls, rusted cables, and silence thick enough to drown every memory. But this journey felt different.
The route ahead had changed at the last moment. The surface near Green Park had become overrun, forcing him towards Hyde Park Corner and into territory few people still dared to cross. Armed only with experience and instinct, he stepped forward while those behind him remained with a single hope, that someone would return.
Beyond the ruined streets of London, he reached Buckingham Palace, no longer a symbol of power but an empty monument swallowed by decay. Inside, shattered halls and abandoned corridors concealed a hidden descent beneath the building itself. What waited below was not another Underground station, but something older, stranger, and far more unsettling.
The walls seemed alive, coated with an unnatural substance that glistened in the beam of his torch. The air twisted his senses, blurred reality, and forced him to question every step. Time slipped away without explanation, while shadows lingered at the edge of sight, refusing to disappear.
Sometimes the greatest enemy is not the creature waiting in the dark, but the darkness that begins to reshape your own mind.
Read more exclusive excerpts from The London Tube and discover a post apocalyptic London where every tunnel hides another secret.
When people imagine life on Mars, they often picture advanced technology, clean cities, and a united humanity working toward a common goal. But would reality be that simple?
Looking at today’s world, I suspect we would bring much more than science and engineering with us. Politics, social divisions, corporate rivalries, misinformation, and the constant race for power would probably arrive on the first spacecraft alongside the astronauts.
Mars might begin as a place of cooperation, where every person depends on the others to survive. Yet as the population grows, history suggests that disagreements over resources, leadership, and ideology would emerge. Water could become more valuable than gold, oxygen could be tightly controlled, and entire communities might compete for independence.
At the same time, living on another planet could force humanity to rethink its priorities. Every mistake would have consequences. Every life would matter. Perhaps people would finally learn that survival depends on trust rather than conflict.
So the real question isn’t whether we’ll colonize Mars. It’s whether we’ll evolve as a species before we get there.
