The Cold Pools Read Online Free

he had a chance.
    ‘You want some, you crippled prick –’
    ‘Guys!’ Paul shouted, but too late.
    Dan threw a sharp left at Switch, who backed into Simon as he tried to get out of the way.  His fist would have missed but thanks to Simon’s intervention Switch was trapped and Dan’s blow slammed into Switch’s cheek, knocking him sideways.  As Switch stumbled and tried to recover his balance, Dan nailed him again in the stomach.  Switch doubled over, coughing, and Dan moved in closer to finish him off.
    ‘Help me stop them!’ Marta shouted.
    Paul was no fighter, and even Marta outweighed Simon.  Knowing there was little chance of any help, she tried to push herself between them, but Dan shoved her aside.  He threw another punch but Switch, having recovered his balance, ducked away this time.  His thin lips curled back, anger and excitement in his face.  His bad eye flickered like an old movie reel.
    ‘So you wanna dance, is it?’
    There was a flash of metal in the air.
    ‘Uh . . . uh . . . no –’
    Dan staggered back, a hairline of red appearing down the side of his face from temple to jaw.  Blood pooled and bulged, and the knife came to rest against Dan’s throat.  The blade, barely longer than Switch’s index finger, reflected the emergency lighting above them, glimmering like a hospital light.
    ‘You never fuck with me,’ Switch said, good eye narrowed, face tight.  ‘You fuck with me, you die.  You got that, wankhead?’
    ‘Easy, Switch,’ said Simon, trying almost comically to muscle his thin frame between them and failing.
    The knife vanished and Switch stepped back.  For a moment his good eye fixed Dan with a dark stare, then he turned and stalked back down the platform towards the breakfall mattresses.
    ‘Don’t worry about him, he’s just –’
    ‘Fuck off,’ Dan said, turning away from Marta.  He wiped a hand down his face, smearing away the blood from the shallow cut.  He shook his hand and drops fell on the platform to mingle with the dust.
    ‘Dan!’ Paul shouted after him.
    ‘And you.  You come near me again and I’ll fuck you up.’
    They watched him walk up the platform towards the far stairs.  He glanced back just once as he reached the foot of the stairs, and then was gone.
    ‘And then there were four,’ Marta muttered under her breath.  ‘Good work, Switch.’  She turned around, but Switch was at the far end of the platform near the breakfall mats, bent down near the platform edge.  For Switch, the dismount length – the distance from the end of the platform to where a rider landed – was everything.  Now that Dan had gone the others couldn’t care less.
    ‘Do you think he’ll come back?’ Simon asked.
    Marta gave a frustrated laugh.  For a moment she felt like crying, but she shrugged it off.  ‘What do you think?  No chance now.’  She shook her head and sighed.  ‘He never really got into it, did he?  He just didn’t fit .’
    Paul looked away.  Marta knew it was hurting him the most.  Another friendship ruined.  They were hard to come by these days, and like cracked glass, so easily shattered.
    ‘Worth a try,’ Simon said, and patted Paul on the shoulder.  ‘But there’s still us, right?  There are still Tube Riders while there’s the four of us.’
    ‘That idiot.  If it wasn’t for him . . . honestly, sometimes I think we’d be better off . . .’ Paul’s voice trailed off.  He ran a hand through the scant remains of his hair and pushed his glasses further up his nose.  His face was flushed.  ‘Dan wanted to be part of a gang.  I didn’t want to tell him about us at first, but he seemed . . . seemed willing.  Now he’s pissed off, angry with us and feels cast out.  Where’s the first place he’s going to go?’
    It wasn’t a question because they all knew the answer.  Simon cocked his head. ‘We have to hope he doesn’t tell them about this station.’
    ‘I’m sorry, guys.  I just wanted him to be one