Berlin (Leo & Allissa International Thrillers Book 3), Luke Richardson [any book recommendations .txt] 📗

right, the platform remained empty. The digital arrivals board said the next train would arrive in four minutes.

Leo heard the voices of passengers waiting for a train in the opposite direction. They were somewhere down the platform and obscured by pillars and signs.

Leo drew a deep breath and forced the mawkish educational safety video back into the confines of his childhood memories. Then he stepped towards the platform’s edge. The seconds dropped, each jarring with the ticking of the station clock. He needed that phone. It was now or never.

Glancing left and right again, Leo took a deep breath. His chest felt tight as anxiety raged.

To be anxious now was normal, Leo assured himself. He was doing something scary. That’s what anxiety was — an automatic mechanism to stop people doing dangerous things.

He rubbed a hand across his face and examined the tunnel’s gaping mouth. Soon the headlight of a rushing train would occupy that void. Then the light would grow and grow, and in a few seconds, the front of the train would roar into the station.

Three minutes came and went on the digital arrivals board.

Leo looked around again. He couldn’t see anyone on the platform, and he couldn’t hear anything beyond his thumping pulse.

His body screamed against what he was about to do.

Do not get on the tracks.

Leo knew that once he lowered himself to the platform’s edge, he would have to move quickly. Anyone who saw him would trigger an alarm. As long as he got the phone, that didn’t matter.

He needed to act now.

Right now.

Leo fought to draw a deep breath. He felt the stale underground air fill his lungs. The damp heat. The scent which may have been Minty’s last. It could be his last if he didn’t hurry up.

Go now.

Leo clenched his teeth and dropped into a crouch. The concrete of the platform was cold beneath his hands. He counted to three and then he jumped.

The gravel crunched beneath his feet as he landed. Leo’s knees stung with the impact. Without a backwards look, he stepped towards the phone, bent down and picked it up. The phone felt greasy. Without looking at it, Leo slid it deep into his pocket. He’d have plenty of time to examine it later.

A warm front of damp air swelled from the cavernous tunnel. It surrounded Leo. It choked him. Somewhere nearby, something rumbled — metal on metal.

Leo needed to get off the rails now. He turned and stepped against the platform. As a man of average height, the platform’s concrete lip was level with his waist. He placed his hands flat on the concrete. Hoisting himself back up shouldn’t be difficult. Leo prepared to swing his left knee up onto the platform. Then, he heard a rumble — a force field of sound and air. The vibration knocked the breath from him. Leo turned and looked deep into the void. He heard the rumble again. Then he saw a bright pinprick of light — a star in the night sky. A train was approaching.

Tensing his muscles, Leo swung his leg up onto the platform. He needed to get off the tracks. Now!

The rumble grew. Leo’s breath caught in his throat. His ankle slipped from the dusty concrete. It fell and struck the rail. Leo felt a stab of pain, sharp as a thrusted knife. He winced.

Leo felt the shuddering tonnes of the approaching train. His knees began to vibrate.

The streak of light had now become a solid, looming headlight.

The distant rumble — the rumour of movement elsewhere — had become a roar.

Leo stepped up on to the rail. He felt the approaching train thundering through the steel.

Pushing himself up, Leo swung his legs and rolled onto the platform.

His breath stung, and his ankle throbbed.

The train roared into the station. Brakes screamed.

Leo lay on his back on the platform. He had the phone.

28

For Minty, being dead really was frustrating. Where he’d usually be able to go to the shops on a bright afternoon or meet friends for drinks, now he was confined to the house.

It wasn’t as bad as actually being dead, he supposed, as it was only for a couple of days. So it was definitely a lot better than being medically dead. Death being, well, permanent.

But the days were seeming very long indeed. He couldn’t go out. Couldn’t contact anyone. Couldn’t do anything a living person might. But it wasn’t for long — that’s what Borya had promised.

He wasn’t even allowed to go online. Nor phone his friends and family. Because he was supposed to be dead and dead people couldn’t go online. Or even use the phone.

Being dead really is boring, he thought as he looked out at the woodland that backed onto the house. The thick new leaves sparkled in the bright afternoon sun. He couldn’t even go for a walk outside. Minty crossed the room and collapsed into the sofa. It’s just the doing nothing, he thought, drumming an erratic percussive pattern on his knees. He just couldn’t do nothing. He needed to do something.

But what?

Looking around the room, he saw the large screen TV and expensive music system. Sure, he could put some music on, or even watch a film, but those things were at best a distraction. At worst? A danger. What if he didn’t hear the early warning system he’d installed on the front door? Resting his head in his hands, Minty rubbed his temples.

But it wasn’t his safety that troubled him. Sure, being on edge was bad. But it was the thoughts of his family that haunted him the most.

A car engine groaned from the street outside. Minty held his breath until it faded back into the din of the city.

Letting his eyes close, he pictured them; his brother, mum and dad, expressions of grief etched into their eyes. He hoped they wouldn’t blame each other.

He longed to contact them and tell them he was alive and well. He needed to explain the reasons behind why he was doing