The shortcut to the administrative sector was still open in his mind.
It would take him straight to the vote.
It would keep him away from questions.
But what if Adrian had been seen in the pub?
What if somebody knew something?
Harvey slowed near the entrance.
The pub was not merely a place where people drank.
It was where rumours travelled before they reached the rest of the station.
His pulse hammered harder.
The vote could wait.
His friends could not.
He turned towards the side tunnels, leaving behind the market and the dirty glow of the station.
Abandoned trains rested on the tracks like hollow carcasses.
Rust.
Smoke.
Silence.
The corridor ahead was wider than most in the Tube.
Too wide.
Down below, nobody built wide spaces unless they wanted to hide something.
Or control people.
From deeper inside came tired laughter.
Bottles.
Voices drowned in alcohol.
Harvey had never liked that place.
It always felt exposed.
As if the darkness had enough room to move without being heard.
London Tube 2033








