At length, the stairwell Addy, Brandon, and Russel are on bottoms out onto a dimly lit hall, more of a landing than a room, full of refuse and dust. There is a man there, sleeping, dressed in several layers of clothing and dirty through and through. A battered radio sits next to his feet. Brandon is forcibly reminded of the homeless man they
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He shakes his head. How does he know all this? Why does it feel like firsthand experience? He and Brandon have been through some pretty tight times, but never like that. It takes an effort to pull out of his thoughts and look to his brother. "Yeah... yeah, it might be good to get above ground again, see what the damage is."
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He doesn't fancy the idea of walking along the tracks. Zapped by Tracks is a prevalent worry in his mind, too.
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He places his hand over hers gently to reassure her. He doesn't have any real fear of the subway or the underground, but something about the surroundings seems ominous all the same, and he'll be glad when they're back on street level. Or so he thinks.
A rumble and a flash of lights indicates a train approaching. Brandon glances back to make sure Russ is with them, nodding. "It almost doesn't matter where it goes. Any place is better than the place we just nearly got killed."
This is probably untrue if he thinks about it, but he doesn't want to think about it in detail right now.
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All the same, it's this, or wander around aimlessly where there are people, and we all know that people are either zombies, bald men, or Brandon and Russel. Grimy or not, Addy has to sit. Addy feels like death on legs, which is quite a feat.
Most of her makeup has been worn off, and the scarring across her collarbone and neck and arms stand out in stark relief in the unflattering lighting. She stifles a yawn. "The thing is... I can't think of a single place that can't get turned into something scary. Not a single place."
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"I know," he says to Addy. "And what's worse, I'm not sure what we can do about it, except keep moving. If I'm really Cornelius Gibbs, and you're really Victor Allen, and Russ is really Markus 'Rat' Rathbone...how do we get back to who and where we were? Or do we want to?"
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"Without knowing who those other versions of us really are, how can we make a decision like that? I'm not sure we get a choice, anyway." He rubs his eyes.
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"What do you really remember?" he asks his companions. "Not what you've read about, but what's in your head that you know is true? I've got...images, but they're like pieces of a puzzle that don't link together."
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Hm. Maybe his other self is a little crazy.
"And I remember the Strangers. I remember them coming after me in a dark place, and I tried to fight them. But they picked me up and threw me and...I think I died." His voice fades to a whisper.
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Rat shakes his head and pushes the memories away. "Can't have. You're still here."
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