Truthfully, Ahmad wasn't the stimulant addict he projected himself to be. If he were, he'd smoke actual cigarettes, not smelly herbal sticks. They still had a sort of calming placebo effect on him, but not when he was a little more high on adrenaline than usual.

Taking an escalator down to a subway platform shouldn't make him adrenaline-high, and yet...

"Are we going into the city?" he asked Firdaus out of the corner of his mouth. They hung back from Josh and the boys, not wanting to be overheard. "If Mr. G catches us-"

"I'm sure he won't," Firdaus said. "Like Josh said, we'll be underground. Harder to trace."

"Not the whole way." Unlike Firdaus, Ahmad was from the Bay Area originally, and he knew the geography pretty well. Even in another dimension besides his home, there was, surprisingly, precious little change. "After Colma Station, we're on el tracks until well into the city."

"They say 'el' around here?" Firdaus looked confused. "I thought that was a Chicago thing. Or...or a New York thing."

"Not usually. I just said that for clarity's sake. The point is, there's a long stretch of BART between here and the city center that isn't underground."

Firdaus paled. Even her hair looked like it had lightened a shade or two, going from burgundy cherry to more of a dark magenta. Or perhaps puce. A customer at the tattoo parlor back home had once requested such a shade for the bloody tears he wanted a skull to cry on his chest. A silly design, and it had taken Ahmad almost three days' experimentation to get that exact color of ink. But in the end, he contented himself knowing he wouldn't have to mix that color again (especially because it looked like actual blood when applied), because he put up a sign above the binder of designs reading, as boldly as possible, "WYSIWYG. No exceptions."

The train squealed into the station, loudly echoing around the confines of the platform. Josh scanned it quickly, then chose the one car that was least occupied. Or, more accurately, most un-occupied. Not a single passenger, until this party of five boarded.

Now, knowing that he and Firdaus would be less likely to keep their conversation private, Ahmad fell silent, except for his troubled thoughts.

Namely: Why the hell does Josh think it's okay to take us all into the damn lion's den?