False Future Read Online Free

again.
    “What did you think? About bringing me back.”
    Rhys doesn’t answer. I decide to let it go.
    The train swishes past us, not slowing down. It keeps going, right through the station. The weirdest thing is, I can’t see anybody through the windows as it goes past us.
    The crowd starts shouting. A cop blows his whistle again and again.
    Once it’s halfway into the tunnel, I hear the train’s power shut off and the wheels scrape along the track. The whole thing comes to a stop about two hundred feet past the platform. The taillights glow like demon eyes in the darkness before they wink out. People on the platform start yelling again.
    Rhys and I share a look. Then we jump down onto the tracks and start jogging, careful to avoid the electrified third rail. We both stop once we’re in the darkness of the tunnel. A dozen brave/stupid people are following us.
    “If another train comes, they’ll be crushed,” I say, “if they aren’t electrocuted.”
    Rhys nods. “We need to keep them away. You got this one? I’m due for a shot….”
    “Yeah, I got it.” I release a small wave of fear, just enough to discourage anyone from following us into the tunnel. The always-there pressure in my brain swells at first, then lessens, bringing a sweet-and-sour feeling that makes my scalp tingle. The center of my brain feels hot, almost pleasantly so, like a heated stone wrapped in a blanket.
    The people following us turn around; two trip on the tracks but scramble to their feet. “What is it? What is it?” one of them says as they nearly launch themselves back onto the platform. None of them will have an answer.
    “Nicely done,” Rhys says.
    We turn our attention back to the train.
    The emergency lights are on inside the rear car, but I don’t see anybody. I hop up onto the back and pull the door open, stepping into the dim yellow light.
    The car is empty, but the seats and floor are covered in blood.

W e pull our swords in unison. Rhys grabs a Glock from under his sweatshirt. We hold still, listening. The door snicks shut behind us, and now it’s completely silent, except for the soft thumps of explosions up above.
    “What do you think?” Rhys whispers.
    This isn’t the style of a Rose. This is the style of a monster. “I thought I destroyed all the eyeless.”
    We move through the car, stepping over and around smears of blood. The smears all go in the same direction, telling us the eyeless boarded from the rear, slashing with their claws and biting with their teeth. Wounding people, driving them forward to the front of the car. I see the first few bodies just inside the next car—an old woman on her back, a man in a blue suit on his side, and a guy who got stuck between the cars.
    The door keeps trying to shut on his ankle. It opens and closes, opens and closes.
    I turn my head and close my eyes, swallowing hard. Then I trip on a grocery bag, spilling eggs onto the floor. Three of them break, and the yolks mix with blood.
    “You okay?” Rhys asks, eyes forward like mine should be.
    “Yes.” I have to be. We keep moving. Someone’s tablet is still playing a TV show, the screen fractured.
    We step over the guy in the door. I nudge his ankle aside, and the door closes behind us.
    I follow Rhys as fast as my gelatin legs will allow. We get through two more cars, where more people have bunched together and died in clumps. My neck stiffens with each passing second, as if someone is driving a screw into the top of my spine. It’s so quiet I can hear us breathing.
    The fifth car is in complete darkness, save one flickering emergency light right above a slumped-over form. In the darkness to my left, something drips on the floor.
    Rhys presses a button on his Glock, and a little flashlight snaps on. Handy. The light is sterile and white. He swings it left and right, and we creep forward. At the end of the car is a rhythmic banging, like a drum. Another door sliding open and closed, open and closed.
    “You