It should have just been the musty stale air of a place locked up tight, but obviously someone had found the way in and a few others had followed. It was a small vestibule in this empty corner of the train station, with a half-dozen stairs littered with cigarette butts and trash, leading up to an old waiting room. There, the big arched windows looked out over the tracks. The glass was streaked with grime, and as I turned to look around at the rest of the room, I saw all of the chairs pushed together, covered with sheets. There was an elaborate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, ringed with cobwebs. There was enough daylight coming through the windows that I could see halfway into the room, but then it all turned to darkness. “Anybody in here?” I took my gun out, because that’s what a cop does when he doesn’t know who might be waiting and watching. “It’s okay if you are. I’m just looking around. If there’s anybody here, you can come out.” I felt a low rumbling then. In the floor, coming up through my bones.
