it.
Panting, but still feeling strong and wired with adrenaline, Ace paused a moment and looked first left, then right.
Fifty-fifty, either way.
Chances were some do-gooder, white-collar asshole was going to tell the cop which way he went, anyway. It all depended on just how seriously this cop wanted to catch his ass. The only thing bugging Ace was that he hadn’t had a chance to finish his piece. He and Flyboy had just started spraying the outlines of their logos when the cop saw them and gave chase.
That’s when Flyboy slipped and fell.
Jesus, stop thinking about it! Ace told himself.
He licked his thin lips as he looked around. He wasn’t familiar with this particular Orange Line station, but—hell, they were all pretty much the same. After one more quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the cop hadn’t spotted him yet, he headed off to the left.
Ace felt better as soon as he rounded the corner and was swallowed by the cool, vibrating darkness of the subway tunnel. A chill breeze from a nearby ventilation shaft raised goose bumps on his thin, pale arms. His body was still tingling from the rush of the chase.
Ace was never afraid to be alone in the tunnels. In fact, he liked the way the darkness closed down over him like a lid that shut out the glaring lights, the noise and bustle of the city. He liked the way the scuff-scuff sound of the brand-new Reeboks he’d ripped off just last week echoed from the piss-yellow tile walls in the throat of the tunnel. And he liked how he always seemed to be able to hear the faintly echoing click-click sound of dripping water somewhere deep inside the darkness. Sometimes he thought it sounded like a huge, dark animal, lapping up water or something.
Within seconds, though, the echoing silence was shattered.
Everything was suddenly drowned out by the bone-deep shudder and rumble of an approaching train.
Feeling more than seeing his way along the edge of the catwalk that ran five or six feet above the tracks, Ace looked up ahead for a service niche in the wall where he could hide. There had to be one close by, but he didn’t see it before the train roared around the corner.
A bright light speared the darkness and swept like a searchlight over Ace. He felt like an insect specimen, pinned to the wall as the train came straight at him. The harsh sound of metal grinding against metal was deafening. Ace watched in fascination as the train rushed at him, pulling the darkness along behind it. White sparks snapped and flew like exploding squibs from underneath the wheels.
Spreading his arms out wide, Ace flattened himself against the damp tile wall, but the backpack pushed his stomach out a little too damned close to the train for comfort.
For a single, terrifying instant, he was afraid that the front of the train was going to scrape him up like so much dog shit; but then, with a roaring suction of hot wind and exhaust, the engineer’s car took the turn and zipped past him. Ace couldn’t help but laugh as he wondered what the engineer might think, seeing him appear so suddenly from out of the darkness.
The passenger cars clattered past, and Ace stared at the dull lemon light inside the train that flickered like an old-time movie through frame after frame of grime-smeared windows. He caught quick, blurred glimpses of the people, either sitting or standing, hanging like apes from the hand grips.
The screeching sound was all-encompassing. The chatter of rails and grinding of steel wheels vibrated the tunnel and shook Ace’s body. Just for the pure rush of it, he threw back his head and started screaming as loud as he could, even though he couldn’t hear himself. Sweat ran in icy streams from his armpits down the inside of his tee-shirt, tickling him. The dark air was filled with the choking stench of exhaust, the sting of ozone, and other, unnamable things that swirled in a blinding cloud and tugged at Ace like strong, urgent hands that wanted to drag him under the
Panting, but still feeling strong and wired with adrenaline, Ace paused a moment and looked first left, then right.
Fifty-fifty, either way.
Chances were some do-gooder, white-collar asshole was going to tell the cop which way he went, anyway. It all depended on just how seriously this cop wanted to catch his ass. The only thing bugging Ace was that he hadn’t had a chance to finish his piece. He and Flyboy had just started spraying the outlines of their logos when the cop saw them and gave chase.
That’s when Flyboy slipped and fell.
Jesus, stop thinking about it! Ace told himself.
He licked his thin lips as he looked around. He wasn’t familiar with this particular Orange Line station, but—hell, they were all pretty much the same. After one more quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the cop hadn’t spotted him yet, he headed off to the left.
Ace felt better as soon as he rounded the corner and was swallowed by the cool, vibrating darkness of the subway tunnel. A chill breeze from a nearby ventilation shaft raised goose bumps on his thin, pale arms. His body was still tingling from the rush of the chase.
Ace was never afraid to be alone in the tunnels. In fact, he liked the way the darkness closed down over him like a lid that shut out the glaring lights, the noise and bustle of the city. He liked the way the scuff-scuff sound of the brand-new Reeboks he’d ripped off just last week echoed from the piss-yellow tile walls in the throat of the tunnel. And he liked how he always seemed to be able to hear the faintly echoing click-click sound of dripping water somewhere deep inside the darkness. Sometimes he thought it sounded like a huge, dark animal, lapping up water or something.
Within seconds, though, the echoing silence was shattered.
Everything was suddenly drowned out by the bone-deep shudder and rumble of an approaching train.
Feeling more than seeing his way along the edge of the catwalk that ran five or six feet above the tracks, Ace looked up ahead for a service niche in the wall where he could hide. There had to be one close by, but he didn’t see it before the train roared around the corner.
A bright light speared the darkness and swept like a searchlight over Ace. He felt like an insect specimen, pinned to the wall as the train came straight at him. The harsh sound of metal grinding against metal was deafening. Ace watched in fascination as the train rushed at him, pulling the darkness along behind it. White sparks snapped and flew like exploding squibs from underneath the wheels.
Spreading his arms out wide, Ace flattened himself against the damp tile wall, but the backpack pushed his stomach out a little too damned close to the train for comfort.
For a single, terrifying instant, he was afraid that the front of the train was going to scrape him up like so much dog shit; but then, with a roaring suction of hot wind and exhaust, the engineer’s car took the turn and zipped past him. Ace couldn’t help but laugh as he wondered what the engineer might think, seeing him appear so suddenly from out of the darkness.
The passenger cars clattered past, and Ace stared at the dull lemon light inside the train that flickered like an old-time movie through frame after frame of grime-smeared windows. He caught quick, blurred glimpses of the people, either sitting or standing, hanging like apes from the hand grips.
The screeching sound was all-encompassing. The chatter of rails and grinding of steel wheels vibrated the tunnel and shook Ace’s body. Just for the pure rush of it, he threw back his head and started screaming as loud as he could, even though he couldn’t hear himself. Sweat ran in icy streams from his armpits down the inside of his tee-shirt, tickling him. The dark air was filled with the choking stench of exhaust, the sting of ozone, and other, unnamable things that swirled in a blinding cloud and tugged at Ace like strong, urgent hands that wanted to drag him under the
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