Darcy stood amidst a crowd of New Yorkers trying to figure out the complex system of underground trains. It was the 5 o'clock rush, and most of the people were wearing business suits, hurrying back to their families and friends. Darcy never could get the hang of the subway, she couldn't work out the London underground either when her parents had taken her for a weekend break. That had ended in disaster, they had ended up in Wakefield when they were meant to go see the lion king.

Darcy gave up, she would ring her brother and apologies later. She would go next week to his house. Right now all she wanted was a good cuppa and a snickers bar. She swung her tattered backpack over her shoulder and headed for the nearest confectionery stand.

It seemed a lot of other people had the same idea as she took her place at the back of the queue of people paying for various snacks and drinks that the stall had to offer. Soon the affect of her presence on these people was evident. They seemed slumped and tired. One man seemed to be going grey very quickly and his wife started to complain about her hip.

Darcy sighed. She was used to this but it dd mean that the line went even slower. God, she hated this affect on people.

Emily stood quietly among the throng of people. She was going to get on a subway train even if it killed her. They made her feel claustrophobic. Being underground in a box, even if the box had lights and moved through tunnels, reminded her too much of burial. But subway travel was practical and economical. It was a part of New York and Emily was a New Yorker now. There really wasn’t anything to fear. Even if a car broke down, it would be found, right? It wouldn’t be trapped down there for days until a band of mutated, underground rodents or gators found them, right?

She noticed a fly buzzing around her head, bringing her back to reality. Had she been forgetting to blink? She must always remember to blink in public. It frightened people if she didn’t. Emily snatched the fly from the air and ended its life. Over the decades she had gotten quite good at catching flies. Flies led to maggots. Emily did not want maggots eating her, so she developed the fly catching reflexes of a frog. She hoped no one noticed her murder, but she was pretty confident no one did. She had learned city folk barely noticed the world going on around them.

Now which way to the track? She had been standing near a food stall. Emily wondered what a hotdog tasted like. She had never gotten the chance to try one and so many people ate them here. Everyone in the line seemed very moody, ragged. Had these people aged since she last looked? Emily had watched people age. It seemed one day they were young and hopeful, then the next they were old and wishing they never aged, envying Emily for her immortality. Were these people aging or was it her imagination? It wasn’t so much their appearance; it was how they held themselves. Was someone stealing their youth? She imagined a mutant that kept himself young by stealing the youth of others. She searched the crowd, imagining a young, dashing lawyer type sucking youth from the group around her.

No one caught her eye. Oh well. What would she have done if she found the guy? Tackle him down to stop his robbery? Emily pursed her lips in frustration and began to walk toward the track, not noticing her purse drop to the floor as she strolled through the crowd.

Darcy finally made it to the front of the queue. She selected a snickers bar and payed the hobbling stall vendor before casually leaving the poor group of people to resume back into their usual energetic selves.

As she took a bite of a snickers bar a girl shot past her through the crowd dropping something practically at Darcy's feet. Darcy bent over and gor the item from the dirty floor, which was no mean feat at this time. It was a purse. She looked up and tried to locate the girl who had dropped it. "Oi!" she shouted down to the long haired girl wandering away from her, "Oi, blondie, ya dropped ya purse!"

she chased after her, pushing passed people on her way, she tapped the girl on her shoulder as she caught up to her. She could tell something was wrong about this girl. She seemed grey, like herself. Is she like me? she thought curiously.

Emily was focused on the task at hand. She was going to get on that subway car. She was going to sit down and stare at her phone, pretending to know how to use it. Then she would get off the subway car after it stopped three times. Then she would be one step closer to being a real New Yorker. Yes, this is what she was going to do. She was going to get on that subway car. She was going to-

Someone tapped her shoulder. Emily whirled around. Who communicates with strangers on the subway? In front of her stood a woman slightly taller than herself. The woman seemed to have her purse. When had she dropped it? “Oh!” That’s all she was able to say before she was forced into the subway car by a group of people, ready to be home.

Emily was on a subway car. Emily was not ready to be on a subway car. She pushed through the crowd trying to make her way back to the door. It shut right as she got there. She banged on the doors furiously. She almost tripped as the car began to move. This vehicle started up so much faster than a train did. She needed to sit down. Emily turned around, frantically looking for an open seat. None. If the undead girl could breath, she would be hyperventilating. She grabbed the poll next to her to steady herself.

Ok, she didn’t need to sit. She could stare at her phone standing up. Emily suddenly remembered the woman with the curly hair. That woman had her purse. She looked around the car again, hoping that the woman had also gotten on the same fast moving death trap.

Darcy frowned as the girl stared at her with blank, unblinking eyes. There was something not right about the girl. She seemed artificial, as if everything she did took effort to look normal. The girl didn't take her purse but instead was swallowed by the heaving number of people and dragged on the carriage. Darcy followed in pursuit, wondering what she was doing. She could easily leave the purse in the lost and found at the station, or hand it into the police, but curiousity got the better of her and she flung herself onto the traina and was crammed near the back. The train started to pull away, and the heaving crowd parted, moving on to seats or other carraiges. God she hated the rush hour.

She turned to face the carriage, trying to locate the long haired girl whose purse she had unseemingly stolen. It seemed like the girl had the same thought, because their eyes met at the same time. She carefully wandered over to her and smiled. "Here, remember to take it next time!" she held out the purse and examined the person in front of her more closely. Her skin was definately grey and she seemed terrified. "Are ya ok?"she asked with concern.

“Tarnation! No, ai am not awrite! Dis hea contraption is mewvin way too fast! Ets crowded. Aim do’n everything not to squall at the top of mai lungs!” Emily loosened her grip slightly from the poll. She had just been taken by surprise from the wave of people, then the realization that she was underground in a coffin shaped(ish) object did not bode well with the Southern Belle. But after her outburst, she was beginning to feel a little better.

“Mai apologies. Aim jest a little claustrophobic, is all. Thank ya kindly fo gett’n mai purse.” She reached out and reclaimed her handbag. The she extended her hand for the good Samaritan to shake. “Mai name es Emily. Aim a little new to New York and felt ai should try the subway. Now that aim on un, ai don think it was a bad idea.” Emily forced a nervous laugh. Next time, she would pick a less busy time to ride.

Darcy was taken aback by the southern accent. She had expected the girl to be (dead/blank) robotic in her tone, emotionless almost, but the girl seemed energetic and not at all like the girl her exterior suggests she was.

Darcy smiled. "s'know problem. I'm Darcy" she said taking the girl's (cold, icy) hand and shaking it. "well since I'm on it now, you any idea where this is headed?" she asked raising her eyebrows. God she wanted to ask so badly, but her time at the mansion had told her that asking straight away what people's powers were was frowned upon by most. Anyway, she didn't even know if Emily was one.

Darcy had a firm handshake. Emily respected that. Her nerves were feeling better. This really wasn’t so bad. If she focused on what was going on in the car she wouldn’t have to think about the darkness all around her, waiting to bury her in an avalanche of dirt and asphalt.

“Ai ‘oneslty have no idea. My plan wus to git on a car and travel three stops. Ai didn’t care where they was headed.” Emily turned away. Now that she had gotten her purse back she didn’t really plan on talking to the woman anymore. What would they talk about anyway? How Emily worked at a mortuary? How her head was cut off by a crazed doctor?

But with the silence came thoughts: thoughts of burial, thoughts of being in the dark, unable to claw her way out of the grave. She turned back to the brunette. “Es that en accent ai hea? Where you frum? Are you new to New York?”

Darcy looked around the carraige, trying to find a map and maybe work out where on Earth she was headed. Then she heard the girl speak again and turned her head back around to face her, figuring that she would just hop off at the next stop and work her way from there.

"Dublin, Ireland." she said, "and yeah, I mean, my brudder lives in New york so I've bin here for a little while, but I've only been at the mansion for a couple of weeks.." she trailed off, realising that she had just admitted to being a mutant. "so, what brings you to New York?" she said hurridly, trying to move on the conversation.

Mansion. Emily had been there once for a few minutes. There was a Valentine auction, but she had to leave before she was able to meet anyone. It seemed like a very nice place for mutants to be together. Emily suddenly noticed that Darcy had a slight grey tint to her skin. She wondered what her mutation was. “So yer a mutant? Som ai. Aim dead. Ai guess yew can call me a zombie.”

Well Emily was glad to have that out in the open. “Ai mewvd tew New York afta mai friend paised away. Ai had never met mewtants before and the city es full of them. Sew ai stayed. So wai yew en the city?”