Free Chasing Shadows by Liana Hakes-Rucker

It’s
cold as hell out here. The ground is covered with a light dusting
of snow that we northerners refer to as frost. It crunches under my
boots. By the time I reach the end of the alley, more snow is
falling. I pause to slip on my gloves and hat, zip up my coat, and
wonder where I’m going. I turn right, squint into the wind, and
lumber on. After about eight blocks, I’m nearing the elevated
tracks. At the street just before them, I see the bird again. It
swoops north and I follow, walking parallel with the
tracks.
    The breeze, I mean gale force wind, is cut off
here on the north/south street. I’m beginning to feel my face again
when a train clatters by over head. As it does, I hear an extra
little hiss, like a whisper, in my right ear. If I had to tell you
what it said I’d guess ‘hurry’ but I can’t be sure, and I hate to
be rushed, so I keep going at my steady pace. A few more steps and
there’s a hand on my back. I look, no one, of course. But the hand
keeps pressing. I step it up a bit, the pressure ceases, and now
disappears.
    “Fucking cardio.” I say. “Of all the spooks, I
get one obsessed with fitness.”
    I go on. There’s no more prompting from the
great beyond. In a few quick blocks this street dead ends onto
another east west one. I come out right by the poorly lit, back
entrance of an El station. Its one with no attendant, just the
floor to ceiling revolving bars. I don’t feel the need to wait for
confirmation. I’m fucking cold. I’m standing in front of the turn
style, digging through my wallet for my Trans pass. I haven’t used
it since Friday. I pretty much walk everywhere except work, but
then I’m usually not on a schedule of any kind. My craziness
tonight seems to have an agenda. When I finally have the card out I
pause. I’d hate to waist a dollar sixty if the shade doesn’t want
me on the train. Flash: the warm train car, the familiar smell of
stale urine, the feel of my ass in a seat. I wait. I gave my word,
I’m going where I’m led... Fuck this sucks. I look through the
bars.
    “Go, or don’t go?" I whisper. There! Right in
front of me. Has it been there the whole time? Floating about three
feet off the ground is a shimmer of light. As I focus on it, it
disappears, but then the turn style rattles. Good enough for
me.
    I swipe my card and enter. I climb the concrete
steps and emerge on a not-quite-deserted platform. There are around
twelve other people up here, singly or in groups of two or three. I
dig out my phone and check the time, 8:34. Now... which train? I
wait. The wind whips the hair that hangs below my skull cap. The
hair catches in my lips. I pull it off and cover my cheeks with my
hands. I’d like to duck behind the big advertisement partition to
block the wind, but I feel I should maintain a line of sight with
both sets of tracks. All in all, this hasn’t been bad so far. I
light up a Camel. No sooner is it lit than a dirty looking dude I
hadn’t noticed accosts me.
    “Hey pretty lady,” His voice grumbles. “Got a
smoke for a poor old man?”
    I sniffle. “Nope.”
    He puts on that hurt face you see on Broadway.
“Awe, come on, baby. Give me a cigarette.”
    “No.” I say, not looking at him. I glance over
in time to register anger, before he covers it up with something
else.
    “Hey now, sexy girl,” He purrs as he steps
closer. “Why so up tight?” He reaches a hand out to grab my
arm.
    I pull my arm back. A train is coming from the
south. I see it make its stop at a platform a few blocks down. “I
said no, man.” I’m not even yelling. Aren’t I proud of myself?
“Leave me alone.”
    “Hey, baby.” He croons, reaching for me again.
Alright, at this point I have three choices. One: I could walk away
from him, towards the other passengers, but he might follow me, and
then I’d look like a victim. Two: I could give in and give the
bastard a Camel, maybe he’d leave me alone, maybe he’d try to
molest me, either way I hate rewarding