‘Mr Bub, Lord of the Flies, him a shifty murderer and me can’twork with him,’ said Anansi.

‘There are others but we’re the ones, the hard core, thesufferers, who’ve scores to settle,’ said King Rat. ‘We’re bringingthe war back to him. And you can help us, sonny.’

What woke Kay was the drumbeat of blood in his head. Each strokethat landed on the back of his skull sent vibrations of pain throughthe bone.

His eyes cracked a seal of rheum. He opened them and saw nothingbut black. He blinked, tried to focus on the vague geometry he couldglimpse in the shadows. He felt that something stretched away infront of him.

Kay was freezing. He groaned and raised his head, a motionaccompanied by a crescendo of aches, rolled his neck and tried tomove. His arms hurt and he realized they were stretched out abovehim, held fast, and stripped of clothing. He opened his eyes more andsaw coils of thick dirty rope around his wrists, disappearing intothe gloom above him. He was suspended, his weight dragging him hard,pulling the skin of his armpits taut.

He tried to twist his body, to investigate his position, but hewas suddenly constrained, his feet refusing to obey. He shook hisgroggy head and looked down. He saw that he was naked, his cockshrivelled and tiny in the cold. He saw the same rope around hisankles, spreading his legs. He was caught tight in a petrifiedstar-jump, he was an X hovering in the dark, the pain in his wristsand ankles and arms beginning to register. Gusts of wind pulled athim, raised goosebumps.

Kay winced, blinked hard, tried to work out where he was, loweredhis eyes again to his feet. As the cold air began to cut through themuck of pain in his head he became aware of the dim diffuse lightaround him. Shapes clarified in the shadow below his dangling toes:sharp lines, concrete, bolts, wood. Railway tracks.

Kay’s head wobbled up. He tried to throw it behind him, to seeover his shoulder.

He gave a yell of shock which bounced back and forward in itsenclosed environs.

Behind him, illuminated by half-hearted little bulbs dribblingbeige light, stretched an underground platform covered in dust andsmall pieces of rubbish. The darkness before him stopped sharp aboveKay’s head, where the bricks of the tunnel began. Those bricks arceddown on both sides of him. To his right was a wall, to his left theplatform edge. The ropes which bound him stretched out to that arch,wound around huge nails driven roughly into the old brickwork.

He hung cruciform at the entrance to the tunnel, from where thetrains emerged.

Kay’s scream echoed around and around him.

He shook ineffectually, tried to wriggle from his bonds. His fearwas complete. He was utterly vulnerable, suspended nude in the pathof the locomotives.

He screamed and screamed, but no one came.

He twisted his head around as far as he could. Kay’s eyesfrantically skipped from surface to surface, searching for some clueto tell him where he was. The trimmings of the station were black;the line above the poster spaces — all empty — was black. This wasthe Northern Line. At the edge of his limited field of vision he sawthe curved edge of an underground sign, the tell-tale red circlebisected by a blue line containing the name of the station. He pulledhis head over, ignoring the pain in his neck and skull, trying topush his shoulder out of the way with his chin, desperate to seewhere he was. As he vibrated to and fro the sign moved in and out ofhis view. He caught glimpses of the two words it contained, one abovethe other.

gton ent… ington scent… rnington rescent…

Mornington Crescent. The ghost station, the strange zone betweenEuston and Camden Town on the decrepit Northern Line: the odd, pokylittle tube stop which had been closed for repairs sometime in thelate Eighties and had never opened again. Trains would slow down asthey passed through, so as not to create a vacuum in the empty space,and passengers would glimpse the platform. Sometimes posters wouldapologize and promise a swift resumption of service, and sometimesobscure pieces of equipment to cure ailing underground stations layscattered on the abandoned concrete. Often there was nothing, justthe signs proclaiming the name of the station in the faint light. Itlived a half-life, never being finally laid to rest, haunted by theunlikely promise that it would one day open for business again.

Behind him Kay heard footsteps.

‘Who’s there?’ he yelled. ‘Who’s that? Help me!’

Whoever it was had been standing on the platform, out of his sightwhen he had tried to turn round. Kay’s head was twisted as violentlyover his left shoulder as he could manage. The steps approached him.A tall figure strolled into view, reading something.

‘Alright, Kay?’ said Pete without looking up. He chuckled as heread. ‘My God, they’re not averse to a bit of pretension, this bunch,are they?’ He held up what he was reading and Kay saw it was Drum ‘n’Bass Massive 3!, a CD Kay had just bought. Kay fought to speak buthis mouth was suddenly dry in terror. ‘ "Rudeness ME sends shouts to:the Rough an’ Ready Posse, Shy FX," blah blah blah, "an’ Boys from daNorth, da South, da East, da West, remember… It’s a LondonSometing! Urban-style ghetto bass!" ’ Pete looked up, grinning. ‘Thisis drivel, Kay.’

‘Pete…’ Kay finally croaked. ‘What’s going on? Get me down,man! How did I get here?’

‘Well, I needed to ask you some questions about something. I’mconcerned about something.’ Pete moved off, still reading. In hisother hand he held Kay’s bag. He replaced the CD and brought outanother. ‘ "Jungle versus the Hardsteppers." Cor! I’ve got a lot oflingo to learn if I’m going to get in with Natasha, haven’t I?’

Kay licked his lips. He was sweating even as he shivered. His skinfelt slick with terror.

‘How did you get me here, man?’ he moaned. ‘What do you want?’

Pete turned to him, replaced the CD, squatted down on the platformto his left. His flute, Kay saw, was thrust through his belt like asabre.

‘It’s early yet, Kay, probably not yet five o’clock. The NorthernLine doesn’t start for a while. Just thought I’d let you know. And,yes, what I wanted… well. When I came out of the pub I headed forNatasha’s flat as well, a little after you, wanted to have a word orsomething. See what you got up to. I’ve been very interested in allthese stories I keep hearing about your mate who’s in trouble, and Iwanted to maybe get you on your own — see what you could tell meabout him.’

‘Then, as I come towards you, downwind, I smell a very particularscent, one that someone wore once who I’m trying to track down. Andit occurs to me that maybe your mate knows the bloke I’m after!’ Hesmiled reasonably and put his head on one side.

‘So. You did bump into your mate last night, didn’t you?’

Kay swallowed. ‘Yeah… but Pete… let me down… please. I’lltell you all about it if you’ll just… please, man… this isreally freaking me out.’

Kay’s mind was racing. He could not think for the pain in hishead. Pete was mad. He swallowed again. He had to make him take himdown, he had to do it now. Kay could not formulate his thoughtsclearly, so overwhelming was the adrenaline rush brought on by fear.He was trembling violently.

Pete nodded.

‘I’m not surprised it’s freaking you out, Kay. Where’s yourmate?’

‘You mean Saul? I don’t know, man, I don’t know. Please…’

‘Where’s Saul?’

‘Just get me fucking down!’

Kay’s control broke and he began to cry.

Pete shook his head thoughtfully.

‘No. You see, you haven’t told me where Saul is yet.’

‘I don’t know, I swear I don’t know! He, he, he said he was…’Kay thought desperately for something to tell Pete, something thatmight save him. ‘Please let me go!’