Free Mind the Gap by Christopher Golden

now!” the man said. “There’s no call for that.”
    “Bloody right,” Jazz snarled, and she started toward Cadge.
    “Oh, tough bird, are we?” Cadge said. “Come on, give us a show.”
    “Right!” the man in the gray business suit said, catching hold of Cadge’s arm. “That’s enough. Leave off now. Get out of here.”
    Jazz didn’t hesitate. The man had gotten an eyeful of her backside, and she knew she looked good. The skirt and blouse had come from the dress-up closet Harry Fowler’s United Kingdom had filched over time. Hattie had helped her choose the clothes and Faith had done her hair. Harry’d even managed enough hot water so that she could shave her legs. No one looking at her would have guessed that she’d been living in the Underground for an entire month.
    Yes, she’d gotten the bloke’s attention. Now the business suit had to be her knight in shining armor. Couldn’t resist a pretty girl.
    “I’ll have you, you little shit!” Jazz said, and she lunged for Cadge.
    Businessman put himself between them—or at least later on he’d think he’d done that out of chivalry. Really, Jazz made sure to catch the man between herself and Cadge. She cursed and damned him and his relations and ancestors going back several generations. Cadge kept laughing, egging her on.
    “Jesus, girl!” the man said, now alarmed to be stuck between them. “Get off.”
    As the businessman struggled to keep hold of Cadge and to prevent her from clawing the boy’s eyes out, Jazz put to use everything Harry and the United Kingdom had taught her over the past few weeks. The fabric of his coat whispered as her fingers slid against it.
    Finally she darted around him, spit at Cadge, shouted a final curse at him, and walked away. “Someone’s got to pay for that phone,” she told Cadge. “You’d better hope you don’t see me again!”
    Jazz marched across the street and into Holborn station. She didn’t bother thanking the man. Time was of the essence now. She descended the stairs and felt the comfort of being enclosed again. It had been good to go aboveground again, but she’d felt eyes on her everywhere, the breeze whispered about her, and buildings stared down like sentinels.
    Jazz went through the turnstile and took the escalator down. Leela waited for her on the platform. The sign above them declared the next train to be two minutes away. Jazz and Leela stood near each other for a moment, neither acknowledging the other. The Indian girl had downplayed her looks to be less conspicuous, which had to be difficult for someone with such natural beauty. But Leela managed it. Her right arm was looped through the handles of a big bag that seemed half purse and half briefcase, something she’d snatched earlier in the day.
    Stevie and Bill emerged onto the platform. From their smiles, Jazz presumed they’d also had a successful day aboveground. The train arrived and all four of them stepped on through different doors.
    At Tottenham Court Road station, Jazz got off. The other three would travel up to the next station.
    “Mind the gap,” a voice warned.
    Jazz let out a long breath of relief as the doors closed and the train pulled away. She went to a bench and picked up a discarded copy of that morning’s
Times.
A few minutes later, Cadge darted onto the platform.
    Grinning, she got up.
    “Right, give me the news. How’d I do?” she asked as Cadge approached.
    “Perfect,” he said, clapping softly. “Like you were born to it.”
    She felt herself swelling with pride, and it took her by surprise. Jazz had been reluctant at first. Of all the things she had one day imagined she might become,
thief
had never been on the list. But Harry and his tribe—
your tribe too now
—had persuaded her otherwise. Topsiders were all about money and merchandise. They lived for the illusion of success. And the rich bastards, the ones with more than they needed—if their wallets were a bit lighter at the end of the day, most of