Infinite Kill

Prologue

Prologue

The passengers on the U-Bahn were well and truly spooked. They herded together around the doors of the tram as it pulled sharply into the station. Some were still stunned at what I’d just done, staring at me like I was a two-headed alien. Others stared at the bodies on the floor behind me. As soon as the doors opened, they surged out like panicking cattle.

I joined the back of the pack and made it out onto the platform, surfing a wave of panic towards the exit. The station was hot, brightly lit and tight, only adding to the claustrophobia. A flight of wide concrete steps led up to street level. I looked over my shoulder, only to see Inge back on her feet, clutching her bleeding nose and shaking off a fuzzy head, her body sandwiched between the closing, bleeping doors. She fought her way out onto the platform. I turned and blended in with the crowd, weighing up my options.

Doubling back was a no-no. Jumping on another tram, impossible. I’d have to wait and Inge would be all over me, like fake tan on a footballer’s wife. Up the stairs and I might run into one of her JPAC besties. Inge might be radioing them right now. I had to do something different. The only other exit was into the tunnel swallowing up the shiny yellow U-Bahn tram. I broke out of the gaggle of passengers and veered left to where the platform sloped down into the mouth of the tunnel.

In the shadows, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, the rumble of the tram still vibrating through the wall. High-voltage wires hummed electric. Sweat stuck cool on the inside of my blouse and jumper from the fight. I leaned out off the wall, sneaking a peek at the platform.

The station had emptied and Inge had stopped mid-jog. She spun around, a tall, lean figure in black, jabbering into a radio on her lapel. Her back to me. Blonde hair tied in a long pony. Suddenly, she whirled around in my direction. I shoved off along the inside of the track, thinking, hoping, she hadn’t seen me. But my feet weren’t the only pitter-patter echoing down the tunnel. She was on my tail, chewing up my lead with every step. The toe of my right shoe hit something hard and uneven on the floor. I tripped and fell, peeling the skin off my palms. I wasn’t fast enough to get away, and no sooner was I up, I was down again, collapsing under the weight of Inge’s rugby tackle. I wriggled away like crazy as she tried to grab me by the ankles. A swift school shoe to the side of her face gave me a spare second to scramble to my feet. Another tram clattered around the bend at speed. A yellow flash of steel ready to gobble the pair of us up. I snapped back against the wall. Inge did the same.

As the tram whooshed by, blowing up my grey pleat skirt, I got the jump on her. I made a mad dash for it along the tunnel, breathing hard and heavy, wishing I’d been stricter with my own rehab and hoping my heart wouldn’t give way from all the fighting and the running. The b***h wasn’t giving up, of course. And I had a fresh pile of poop on my plate.

In the glare of the disappearing tram lights, a silhouette of a man came running towards me. I slowed to a walk, the distance to certain death shrinking all the time as Inge and the shadow approached from either side. It was too dark to see a great deal, but, no doubt about it, the man was JPAC, his hand reaching to the side of his hip, bringing out the shape of a gun. Pointing it square at me.

I waited for the flash and blast from the barrel. This was it. Nowhere left to run. Nothing left in the arms or legs. I’d backed myself into one corner too many. It would end here. In the dark. Anonymously. With me, a sweaty, panting mess, dressed in another girl’s school uniform. The shadow in front of me was all set to pull the trigger.