Identity X by Michelle Muckley

the station as well.  There was no
chance of hopping over the wall at a quiet moment at his next stop.  That was
Central City.  There would be security guards on the gates, and the walls were
high.  The only way out of the station was through the gates, and the only way
out through the gates was with an identity card. 
    Ben
looked around at the people in his carriage: an old lady carrying too much
shopping, and one other guy like him, dressed smartly and carrying a
briefcase.  It was quiet in this carriage.  He stood up and moved through to
the next, where he found a woman with a child and a young girl of no more than
twelve years old wearing plaits and a pinafore dress and far too young to be
riding the underground on her own.  Ben moved methodically through the
carriages until he found what he was looking for.  The difficult element of his
search was that he didn’t know what it was exactly that he was looking for. 
Yet as he stumbled into the fourth carriage along, busy and crowded, he saw
it.  A teenager, no more than eighteen.  Alone.  He was wearing headphones like
the kid from the night before and oblivious to what was happening around him. 
He sat listening to his music, bopping and nodding his head in time with the
electric beat.  To Ben he looked like he might be a trouble maker.  Yes, got
to be.  Might even be in a gang.  As he sat watching him, willing him to
stay sitting down at each station that they passed, he virtually managed to
convince himself of his assessment.  He had him down as the type of teenager
who would help a fallen pensioner only to kick their stick out from underneath
them once they were back on their feet, just to snatch their wallet as they
fell.  Little bastard, he said to himself, as if his thoughts had become
the boy’s depressing real life story.  They passed Western Two, and then
Western One.  They rode through Central Four, Three, and Two.  The boy with the
headphones was still sat there.  He was young but he was big.  This was
important.  Ben’s plan was useless if he was just another kid.  The train
pulled up into Central One.  Ben waited.  The kid looked up at the screen.  He
stood up.  If he got off the plan was ruined.  What should I do?  Get off
with him here?  Walk the rest of the way?  Ben knew that his plan was only
going to work in a busy station, and nobody used Central One.  It was so close
to Central City that everybody got off there.   He braced himself, ready to
follow if he stepped off at the last minute.   Does he realise I have been
watching him?  Is he trying to lose me?  Just as the kid looked like he was
going to disembark, the bell sounded and the doors closed in front of him.  Ben
eased back in his chair.  His plan was still on.
    Ben
stood up as the train pulled into Central City station.  The alarm sounded and
the doors opened automatically.  The kid slouched his way to the exit.  There
was a crowd; at least thirty people all getting off at the same time.  Ben
followed the kid, keeping back a few paces but staying close enough not to lose
him as they negotiated the narrow corridors and neon theatrical
advertisements.  He could see the exit gates coming into view and there was
already a small queue forming.  Central City station was always mayhem, and if
ever there was a problem it was dealt with.  Quickly.  With that many people
coming through the gates decisions were made fast, and action was swift.  Ben
was counting on that today. 
    He
could see the kid in front of him, with only a few people in between them. 
They were about fifty meters or so away from the gate.  He had to time it just right. 
It had to be perfectly timed so that any other variables were rendered void. 
As the crowd of people approached the gate, Ben darted his way through,
stepping in front of other suited men and perfectly made up women.  Thirty
meters.  Two people to pass.  He darted in front of a particularly burly man,
only