I stand up and run. I reach the unmanned turnstiles, vault them and race up a set of stairs to the exit—and slam into a barrier. A metal mesh gate, pulled down.

There’s a gap, though. I shove myself into the tiny space between wall and gate and squeeze through, sobbing.

I’m out. I pound up another short flight of stairs and I’m on the pavement.

I drop onto my knees and I cough and I take a deep, shuddering breath and I pummel the pavement until the skin of my knuckles is raw. I look up and read the station’s name. SLOANE SQUARE. Which means I’m three stops from home, but nothing will ever drag me back down into the Underground. Only Bea.

And she’s gone. Gone.

There are people on the street. A mother and her young daughter see me and the mother draws her daughter in close and they quickstep around me.

“Wait,” I yell after them. “Wait, I need help. Please. Please help me.”

My voice sounds like a crow. They rush away and don’t look back.

I feel for my phone in my pocket and pull it out. Dead. Blank. No battery. The ground spins. I take another long breath and look up at the sky.

And this makes me panic even more. Because here it is…

Anomaly #1: The sky is grey.

7

Grey. In the space of three Tube stops, about seven minutes, the sky has turned from a stark blue to an iron-grey. There is no sun, just a vague halo of light beyond the clouds. An earthy basement smell lingers in the air. The cement pavement is dark and sodden, and the cold cuts like a knife. It’s a bitter, bright cold.

Keep it together, Ana—get to the Old Man’s and raise the alarm.

That’s what I need to do. That’s the priority now. Get to the Old Man’s. Get to the Old Man’s. Get to the Old Man’s. I repeat the phrase in my head, over and over, the only coherent thought I can marshal.

Lightning flashes across the sky. Thunder. I run home in a downpour. I don’t stop for breath, not once, not even when I see things that are impossible—like cars floating low over the ground. I’m losing it. I’m nuts. I keep my head down and ignore the world around me. I run.

By the time I arrive at the Old Man’s front door, I’m a mess. Wet through. My lungs are bursting, my nerves jangling and my ears buzzing.

And that’s when I see it….

Anomaly #2: The door is black.

8