Read The Feaster From The Stars (Blackwood and Harrington) for Free Online Page A

thought. What other train would it be? It’s the only one running on the whole bloody network .
    Fraser came back from the exit, and together the three men leaned over the edge of the platform and peered into the tunnel. In the distance, they could see the train’s lights. They were not getting any smaller or dimmer: the train was indeed at a standstill.
    ‘What the devil is he playing at?’ demanded Fraser. ‘Brennan, Tench, go and see what the matter is.’
    Brennan looked at him askance. ‘Us, sir?’
    ‘Yes, you sir! There might be a blockage on the metals. Go and see – and if there is, get it cleared immediately.’
    Tench sighed. ‘Yes, Mr Fraser.’ He jumped down from the platform and looked back up at Brennan. ‘Come on, mate.’
    Brennan hesitated, and Fraser turned to him. ‘Well go on, man! What’s the matter? Afraid of the dark?’
    ‘No, sir,’ muttered Brennan as he climbed down to join his friend on the tracks.
    ‘Off you go, then, and be quick about it,’ snapped Fraser. ‘I’m going to telegraph Bethnal Green and see if there’s a problem at their end.’
    Brennan and Tench looked at each other, picked up their Tilley lamps from the edge of the platform and headed off into the tunnel.
    ‘You ain’t afraid of the dark, are you Seamus?’ said Tench as they trudged along the tracks, holding their lamps out before them.
    ‘Of course not!’ Brennan snapped. ‘And I’ll knock down any man who says I am.’ He paused before adding, ‘It’s what’s in the dark that bothers me.’
    ‘Oh, shut yer bleedin’ mouth!’ Tench chuckled. ‘You don’t believe any of that, do you?’
    ‘Any of what?’
    ‘You know… what they’ve been sayin’ lately. About things… happenin’ … down there.’
    ‘And what things might they be?’
    ‘You know what I’m talkin’ about. Ghosts and things…’
    Brennan said nothing for a moment. Their feet crunched loudly on the ballast as they walked through the pitch-darkness, the light from their lamps playing strangely upon the walls of the wide tunnel.
    ‘Ghosts? That wasn’t no ghost that Alfie Morgan saw.’
    ‘How do you know what he saw?’ demanded Tench. ‘Maybe he didn’t see anything… maybe the Loop just got to him.’
    ‘ Got to him!’ Brennan gave a short, derisive laugh. ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, no one likes the Loop, but bein’ in there doesn’t drive you mad ! No, poor old Alfie saw somethin’ – and it wasn’t no ghost.’
    ‘What was it, then?’
    ‘How should I know?’
    ‘Well, if you don’t, then –‘
    Brennan cut him off suddenly. ‘Shh!’ He stopped and took hold of Tench’s arm.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Listen…’
    The two men stood still in the darkness, their lamps held out in front of them. They were now more than halfway to the train. Its lights burned like bright stars in the near distance.
    ‘What is it?’ asked Tench.
    ‘I heard something.’
    ‘It’s your imagination.’
    A sound drifted along the tunnel to them, faint but unmistakable. It was a voice; the voice of a child.
    ‘Saints preserve us,’ whispered Brennan.
    Tench felt his skin crawl. ‘It can’t be…’
    ‘Listen to it!’
    The voice sounded again, a tremulous moan which echoed delicately through the tunnel. Tench peered into the darkness, swinging his lamp this way and that, searching for the source. ‘Must be some poor little street urchin who’s got into the network… probably looking for a place to spend the night.’
    ‘Bert!’ shouted Brennan. ‘Are you all right there, fella?’
    There was no reply.
    ‘Come on,’ said Tench.
    They hurried along the tracks until they had reached the train. The driver’s door was open, and they climbed into the cab to find Bert Smallwood sitting there, staring straight ahead into the darkness.
    ‘Bert,’ said Tench. ‘Are you all right?’
    Smallwood shook his head slowly.
    ‘Come on, mate. Fraser’s going to have our guts for garters if we don’t get moving. What is