The Power of Five Oblivion

Escalators. I remembered Miss Keyland telling me about them and that made me think of how she had died and reminded me that if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up dead too. This wasn’t a fun expedition to a forgotten city. London was dangerous.
    We walked for about fifteen minutes before the tunnel suddenly opened out and I found myself in what must have once been a station. It was called Highgate. The torchlight picked out the name printed on a blue band, surrounded by a red circle. We were low down. There was a platform above us to one side and white tiles that curved over our head. On the other side, the walls were covered with advertisements. Holidays in Israel. The Financial Times newspaper. Some church group promising the secret of life. The paper was damp and tatty. And nobody was going on holiday any more, money was no use, and the church hadn’t saved anyone, so it was all a waste of time.
    Something moved and we all froze. A gun appeared in Blake’s hand so quickly that he could have been a magician, performing a trick. We looked around us, expecting to see someone appear on the platform. But it was only a rat, running along the tracks. It was a fat, bloated thing with matted fur and shiny eyes and, seeing it picked out in the flashlight, I couldn’t help wondering what it had found to eat. It was probably better not to know. We continued through the station and into the tunnel at the other end. Once again, total darkness closed in on us, swallowing us up.
    We walked and walked. After the comfort and speed of the electric cars, our journey into London was an ordeal. There was nothing to look at, except for the glint of light showing the rails ahead and the lines of cables which snaked along, following us all the way. I could feel the backpack dragging down on my shoulders, and my last meal and that luxurious warm shower had already become a memory. We walked through three more stations: Archway, Tufnell Park, Kentish Town. I found myself wondering about the names, about what they represented. Had there been an arch at Archway? What was so Kentish about Kentish Town? And what would I find if I climbed the escalator and exited? There might be people still living in parts of London but somehow I doubted that they’d be pleased to see us.
    There was a hideous sight waiting for us at Camden Town. A train had been parked on a rail parallel to the one we were following – a huge red thing that fitted into the tunnel like toothpaste in a tube. Suddenly I was aware of a dreadful smell and someone – Amir, I think – passed me a cloth to cover my face. “Try not to look,” he said.
    Of course, that only made me more curious and as we walked past I peered through the curving windows, wondering what the reflected torchlight would reveal. I wished I hadn’t. The carriages were packed with dead bodies. They must have been standing shoulder to shoulder, with no room to move, when they died. It was impossible to say what had killed them. The bodies had partly rotted away. I glimpsed empty, staring eye sockets and teeth grinning where the cheeks had once been. The corpses were dressed in rags, the remains of dresses and suits … otherwise it would have been impossible to tell the men from the women. I think the most horrible thing was that so many of them were still on their feet, with what was left of their arms and hands connected to straps that ran along the ceiling. Death must have hit them like a whirlwind, blown down the tunnel. Some were sitting. Some were on the floor. But the rest of them had been caught there, jammed against each other, and that was where, for all eternity, they would remain.
    I couldn’t wait to get past it and, trying to speed up, I bumped into Jamie. I couldn’t see very much of anything. There were still only two torches lighting our way. Anyway, in my hurry, I almost tripped both of us over.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
    “It’s OK,” he said. And then I felt him take my hand, just for a moment. It was quite unexpected. He and I had been through so much together but we hadn’t exactly been close. Not like him and his brother. “I’m glad you came,” he said.
    “Are you?”
    “Yes.” He fell silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t have got this far without you, Holly,” he went on. “Back in your village … I’m so sorry about what happened. But I’m glad you were on my side.”
    That was the end of it. He didn’t say anything more. But it meant a lot to me and