It’s cool and dark under the stadium and he walks slowly, glad to be out of the hammering sun. Council staff are among the lucky few whose passes allow access into the subterranean space: a car catacomb built on a plague pit, arches holding up the fractious sky. For some reason there are an abundance of large green boxes everywhere. Hook has never quite determined what they’re for but decides he isn’t in the mood for large green things at all.
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