Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 188

from her before carefully examining it. Despite its
comic appearance, she had seen it do something and
had to assume it could be dangerous. The trigger was
obvious and right next to it a small switch pointing to
a little red ‘f’. The other position pointed to a green
‘s’. Other than that, it still looked like a toy, no more
than a foot long and weighing no more than a grapefruit.
Claire almost let it fall back to the step, but decided to
take it just in case. After flicking the switch from ‘f’
to ‘s’, she pointed it towards the foot of the escalator
and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. It was either
safe or a fake. She pushed it into her bag.
She stood and tiptoed down the rest of the escalator,
ready to run if she had to even through she knew there
was nowhere safe to go. Her heart was still hammering, but her breathing was even as she told herself
‘don’t panic’ over and over again. There might be a
cleaner, or someone else to get help.
Even if she did find someone to let her out, what then?
She was still a dozen stations away from home. What
good would it do to be out on the street in a part of
town she didn’t know? She had the money for a cab,
but only from the last station, and she didn’t have a
clue if there was a bus she could take. Phoning for
help would be just too humiliating.
Phone?
Claire slapped her forehead and dug a hand into her
bag. It took a moment until her hand closed around
the familiar shape and she pulled out her mobile. She
pressed the wakeup button, dragged her finger around
the screen to get past the security, and waited for the
display to clear. Icons flickered into life and, finally,
the signal strength indicator. It immediately turned
red. Of course. No signal. That would have been too
easy. She stuffed the phone back into her bag and
stamped down the rest of the steps.
Four steps from the bottom she noticed a silvery sheen
on the floor. Her heart leapt. Maybe there was a cleaner after all, with a mop or a polisher. As she got closer
she realised it was a trail of slime, tracking out onto

the platform. It had to be a trail left by the Morph that
had taken Evie. Claire paused to curl her lip at how
gross the idea was, then followed it across the small
hallway.
She edged along the wall and peeked out onto the platform. Nothing moving, so she poked her head out for
a longer look. The platform was clear. At the other end
was a ‘Way out’ sign. Claire started to walk briskly
towards it but as she passed in front of the train she
took only took a dozen steps, each slower than the last,
before she stopped and looked back.
Where was the driver? There was no slime around
the front of the train so he hadn’t been eaten by the
Morph. And where had the driver been when they had
stopped the train? Where were the police and the station staff, and everybody else who should have come
running after a train was wrecked in a tunnel? And
what about Evie? So there might be someone to help
at the other exit, but how would Claire explain that
a strange girl had b VV