The moment the alarm clock blared Lamb jumped out of his cot. It was morning. He was late. The whine of the air-conditioner implied the temperature outside. He scratched his stubble peered out of the window; grey rain bounce off the bars. It was going to be a typical Monday.

After a quick wipe down in the shower cubicle he nuked his breakfast in the microwave and switched on the TV.

“– said it was just an accident although a group calling themselves the pollution purity squad are claiming responsibility. We’ll keep you up to date as news comes in.”

Lamb checked through his kit while munching mulch. Then he dressed. Every working day was the same sequence, it had to be, to ensure nothing was missed. Even then, after he had put on his uniform, Lamb always took an inventory. Cautiousness had saved his life more times than he could count.

“ News has just come in that a riot has broken out near Holborn, we have no details as yet…. our advice is to avoid the area if at all possible.”

Lamb cursed and flipped the set off. Another riot that he had to pass through to get to work. He was too late to take a longer route.

Typical Monday

He checked the flat’s defence systems, confirmed the operation of the electronic locks and listened to the metallic clank of the door as it shut behind him. There was no one in the dark corridor. He checked the far corner before walking to the lift. There could always be the first time. Downstairs he thumbed the recognition pad to open the inner door. Once inside, the inner door slammed shut before the outer door slid open. The blast of humanity spewed in like a wash of bad breath. This was the time he hated. Wearing the uniform made him a marked man – it also gave his sweat nowhere to go. He jumped into the fray. The torrent of bodies with particularly bad this morning.

Typical Monday.

At the end of the block he tried to lever his way towards the entrance to the Underground. The throng was too much, he tried to swim against the flow of people but failed. He was swept past the opening, missing in post by millimetres. As he tried to turn back someone grabbed his arm.