Tunnel Walls

Chapter Six

“Take this.” Tim throws a can of spray paint at me and I catch it safely in my left hand, curling my fingers around it. It feels good in my palm despite the cold; it feels right as stupid as that sounds that a can of spray paint feels ‘right’. “And this.” he chucks a black hoodie at me which,  after an embarrassing failed catching attempt, I scoop off the floor, pull on and slide the can into the pocket. “You ready?” He asks me, I nod in reply and we walk out of the store room and meet Puck, Artie and who are all wearing dark clothes as well, mostly dark blues and greys, standard city colours nowadays.

“Lets go,” Artie says. “We’ve got work to do.” We’ve already planned out what we’re going to write; some of it’s the same as before, some different. I can feel my heart pumping fast against my ribs, it doesn’t seem natural. 

“Okay, so if you,” Tim points at me, “take the train down to there,” Tim then points to a place on the map. “I’ll meet you there after I’ve done my section.” I nod and he gives Puck, Artie and Jac their sections. I tighten the bag on my shoulders and walk down the stairs, the others hang back. I lose myself in the crowd and follow it down to the train. I feel alone. Being pushed and shoved on the tube is something that I am used to but not with this amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through my veins, I feel sick. Each time the doors open and people get off and other get on I know that I am getting close to my stop, I am excited, I am ready, I am alive. I wonder if anyone else in this metal tube feels like I do, probably not. Then it’s my stop, and I get off and walk to the hall. I can see the stairs which I know I have to go down, so I do.

The spray paint makes me feel different, like a have a purpose. I pull up my hood as I reach the bottom of the stairs and look around me, everything’s so empty here. I run over to the nearest wall and pull out the can, shaking it violently. I press my finger down on the  trigger and shoot paint at the wall, forming shapes that create letters that make words.

‘THE REVOLUTION IS COMING. DOWN WITH PARKER.’

I carry on, the adrenaline pumping all around my body and I run down the tunnel, anxiously glancing over my shoulder to check that I haven’t been followed..

‘WE WILL NOT REMAIN HIDDEN. WE WILL FIGHT.’

And the next.

‘KNOWLEDGE IS POWER AND YOU HAVE MADE THE CITY WEAK’ 

I carry on down the tunnel, spraying two more walls before I hear something behind me. That something clicks and I stay still, willing my hand to press the button on the small device I was given earlier.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A malicious voice spits from behind me. I stay silent, “Turn around, now.” I know that I can’t let him see my face so as I turn I kick and I press the button and I run. My arms drive either side of me and my breathing changes to a series of pants as I carry on. For some time I run like this, sprinting through the long underpasses, now emptied of people, waiting for the sound of chasing footsteps to die out. Eventually, after careering up a steep flight of stairs I can’t hear anything behind me so I slow down. The buildings around me look unfamiliar and old, I have no idea where I am. I press the button again and lower myself onto the ground where I wait. Maybe I’m not cut out for this whole revolution thing, I’m just a kid, I’m not strong or fast or clever. I’m average, I can’t even spray a bit of graffiti.

“Luca.” I hear Artie shout, “What happened?” She’s out of breath, she must have run to get here. “I came as soon as I got your message,” There is genuine concern in her eyes and in her voice, the way there is an urgent tremble to it.