We sat in the darkness for a while, not moving. A cloud of candle smoke moved into my nostrils and I inhaled, taking it in.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Any time, baby,” Aunt Letty said.
“Can I ask you something else?” I asked.
“Ahhh,” Aunt Letty said, tapping her forehead. “You want to know why I paused in the middle of the reading.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t expect that you would have met Harriet Shadow,” Aunt Letty said. “Not so soon.”
“That shadow woman?” Destiny asked. “I remember her. She was creepy as hell. What about her?”
“You paused when you said I was being tested,” I said. “Is she testing me now? Is she behind this commotion with Allegra?”
“No, baby,” Aunt Letty said.
“Then how is she testing me?” I asked.
“She watches you,” Aunt Letty said. “As all shadows do.”
“You know her?” I asked.
Aunt Letty opened the blinds and let in the morning light.
“We shouldn’t talk about shadows in the dark,” she said, shaking her head. “No, no, that would be a mistake. An invitation for them to listen.”
“Who is Harriet Shadow?” I asked.
Aunt Letty clasped her hands behind her back, looking out at the city, at the skyscrapers in the distance.
“Harriet was an old friend,” she said. “A dear friend. But her powers got the best of her.”
“She keeps saying that she was Nana’s best friend,” I said.
“What do you mean keeps?” Destiny asked. “Aisha, did you see her again?”
I ignored Destiny.
“Aisha, I asked you if you saw her again,” Destiny asked.
I hushed her.
“She propositioned me,” I said to Aunt Letty. “She kept saying that I was destined for something, that she could help me. Mentor me. Quite honestly, she freaked me out.”
“Your instinct is right,” Aunt Letty said. “But also wrong.”
Silence.
“Harriet went to school with me and your Nana,” Aunt Letty said. “Her given name was Harriet Scott-Jenkins before she became her current self. She was real smart. Top of the class. We always knew she wasn’t gonna stick around old Skinner Avenue. A girl like her was destined for the world. When we came of age and our powers manifested themselves, we couldn’t believe hers. I was a plain old psychic. Your Nana was a plain old shifter. But Harriet was a shadow.”
I imagined Nana, Aunt Letty, and Harriet as high schoolers. They must have been so beautiful. And powerful.
“Only one percent of the population are shadows,” Aunt Letty said. “And there weren't any African-American shadows. Not in those days. Not that we knew anyway. From then on out, people began to treat Harriet differently. They feared her. People fear shadows, you know. Bad blood. Bad, bad blood, going all the way back to slavery.”
Aunt Letty paused.
“Harriet knew her powers,” Aunt Letty said. “She knew that evil rested inside her. But she never succumbed to it. She kept talking about responsibility. Became real upright and uptight if you ask me. When we got into the real world and started working, she went to college, graduated with honors, and formed an organization called the Shadow Walkers.”
“She kept telling me that the Shadow Walkers did noble work,” I said.
“Noble ain’t the word,” Aunt Letty said. “Some of it is noble, I guess, if that's how you want to look at it. But I never had the heart to do what she does.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Aunt Letty shuddered.
“I haven’t spoken to her in almost thirty years,” Aunt Letty sad. “I read her tarot cards once. She got so mad at me that she stormed out. That was the last time I saw her.” Aunt Letty chuckled. “She still wearing them pearl necklaces?”
I nodded.
“Always looked good in ‘em,” Aunt Letty said. She laughed. “We had some good times, the three of us. And there were bad times too.”
I hung on Aunt Letty’s every word, waiting for more.
But then my phone beeped.
A text message from Darius.
Allegra’s going in for her MRI.
Aunt Letty grabbed her candles, charcoal, and the chalice of water, gathered them onto a tray, and carried them to the kitchen. She seemed relieved to be interrupted.
“Y’all want something to eat?” she asked.
“You’re not going to tell us any more, are you?” I asked.
Aunt Letty opened the refrigerator. “I got chicken, collards, and some leftover biscuits.”
I laughed and stood.
“All right, Auntie,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
I kissed her on the cheek. Destiny followed.
“We ought to get back,” I said to Destiny.
Annoyed at me, she shrugged and walked to the door.
“Go on out and solve your problems,” Aunt Letty said, waving. “And you better tell Darius I want my money. I got bingo coming up at the end of the week.”
11
Destiny didn't speak to me the whole way out of the building.
We broke into the chilling snow, pushing against the wind, back up the slanted streets and toward the glittering subway terminal in the distance.
“What's up with you?” I asked. “You going to keep giving me the silent treatment or are you going to talk?”
“It's nice to talk, isn't it?” Destiny asked, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to face me. “Nice just to chat. That's what communication is all about.”
Then she turned and stormed away.
“Destiny!” I cried. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Communication,” she said loudly. “Communication! See how it feels to not be communicated to?”
She walked so fast I could hardly keep up.
The wind blew me so hard it almost knocked me over.
I picked up a clump of snow and threw it at Destiny’s back. She whipped around.
“When were you gonna tell me about Harriet?” she shouted.
“You're mad about that?” I asked.
Destiny scowled and turned, but I stopped her.
“Look,” I said, “she visited me last night while I was shoveling snow.”
I saw the anger rising in Destiny. She was going to explode.
“We’re a team,” she said quietly. “Why did you think you could withhold that very important piece of news from us?”
“I planned on telling you,” I said. “This mission got in the way.”
“That woman played roulette with our lives,” Destiny said. “Mine and Darius’s especially. And you want to sit up at Aunt Letty’s and act all intrigued about her? Talkin’ about that bitch tryin’ to mentor you?”
I sighed.
“She offered it, not me,” I said. “I told her to go away.”
“What else did she tell you?” Destiny asked.
“She told me how she was such a good friend of Nana, and how she could help me,” I said.
Destiny tugged her coat and looked away.
“You should've told us,” she said. “Any time she shows up, it's red alert.”
“I know,” I said. “I should have told you. But I'm not sorry. I honestly didn't have a chance to tell you.”
“Next time she shows up, you better stop what you're doing and text us, tell us, do smoke signals—I don't care,” Destiny said. “And I don't care what she or Aunt Letty said. A woman like that ain't a friend. And she especially ain't no damn mentor.”
Destiny stretched her arms.
“I'll see you at the terminal,” she said. “I gotta fly and let off some of this steam.”
I nodded as she turned into a falcon and soared into the sky.
I watched her for a moment, thinking about my first encounter with Harriet.
How she congratulated me and then told me she had been manipulating me.
It pissed me off.
/>
Bad.
But something deep down told me I needed to know her. I needed to learn more.
And so as I walked to the subway station, and the snow blew straight through me, I asked myself why I felt this way.
And I listened.
Destiny and I caught a departure just before the doors closed.
We settled in the back of the subway car as it zipped back toward the hospital.
We rode in silence for most of the way.
Not because we were mad at each other, but because there was peace and we had nothing else to say.
As we neared the rising skyscrapers close to downtown, I texted Darius.
How did the MRI go?
Darius didn't text back.
I sighed and tucked my phone away.
“How do you think the MRI went?” I asked.
Destiny shrugged. “Probably no concerns. What MRI you ever seen that ever showed anything?”
“Maybe Darius got this one wrong,” I said. “It's about ten o’clock, and aside from some personal advice from Aunt Letty, I don't feel any closer to solving Allegra’s problems.”
“Me either,” Destiny said. “If we show up at the hospital and D says the results were all normal, I don't know what we gonna do.”
“We've still got The Leather Skull,” I said.
“Yeah, we can look around and maybe buy something,” Destiny said. “But if that doesn't work out…”
I was thinking the same thing.
That we might have to part ways with Allegra if we didn't find any additional information.
I wanted to help her. Seriously. With every inch of my body, I wanted to help her and stop the deaths.
But I was beginning to think that maybe we were in over our heads.
Maybe Aunt Letty was right about me being foolish.
I asked myself whether I was on the right path.
My soul said nothing.
“Let's stay optimistic for now,” I said. “I hear what you're saying, but we don't give up until we've exhausted all of our opportunities.”
“Agree,” Destiny said. “But it ain't lookin’ good.”
My phone rang.
It was Darius.
Very unusual of him to call. I couldn't get him to pick up the phone and call me, ever. Generational thing.
I answered.
“Yes?”
“Cuz,” Darius said. “Where you at?”
“We’re on our way back to the hospital,” I said. “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. What's up? How did the MRI go?”
“We’re still waiting on the results,” he said, his voice growing more frantic. “Please tell me you ordered a ride share to come back to the hospital.”
“Didn't think about it,” I said. “Aunt Letty was close enough to the subway terminal that we didn't have to. What's wrong?”
I heard Darius on the other end cursing.
“Fuck! Shit! Aww, goddamn it!”
“Darius, what's wrong?” I asked again.
“Look, cuz,” Darius said. “Allegra fell asleep after her MRI. She had a dream.”
“That's what people do when they fall asleep, D,” I said.
“No, Aisha, she had a dream,” Darius said. “The kind where people get killed.”
My stomach churned.
“She dreamt that the ten fifteen train to Kemiston Memorial—something…something happened,” Darius said.
“What?” I asked.
“I don't know,” Darius said. “She was convulsing in her sleep, so I woke her up.”
I closed my eyes and cursed.
“Aisha,” Darius said. “Please, please, PLEASE tell me you aren't on the ten fifteen comin’ in right now.”
I glanced at my phone and felt a pit in my stomach opening up.
It was ten after ten.
And we were headed straight for the Kemiston Memorial Subway Terminal.
12
“I knew it,” Darius said. “Damn. Cuz, you gotta get off that train.”
I glanced around us.
We were on an elevated track, high above the city.
A quick look at the map on the wall told us that there were no stops between here and Kemiston Memorial.
We were on a straight line for the stop.
“D, call the police,” I said.
“And what the hell they gon’ do?” Darius asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we’ll have to improvise. We’ll talk later.”
“Talk?” Darius said. “Aisha, do you understand what I’m saying right now?”
“What’s the matter?” Destiny asked. “Why is Darius yelling at you?”
I closed my eyes.
“D, calm down,” I said. “We’ll figure a way out of this. Love you.”
“Way out of what?” Destiny asked.
I hung up on him.
“Cousin, we have a problem,” I said.
Destiny’s eyes widened.
“Is it Allegra?” she asked. “Did the MRI come back with results?”
“No, they’re still waiting on the results,” I said.
Destiny tilted her head at me.
Meanwhile, the train picked up speed and bucked, knocking me off my feet. I grabbed a pole and steadied myself.
“Allegra fell asleep,” I said. “And she dreamt that this very train was the subject of the next disaster.”
Destiny repeated what I said. Then her jaw dropped.
“And we’re on it?” she asked.
“What’s with all the questions today?” I asked. “Jesus!”
“There’s no stops between here and Kemiston,” Destiny said. “Oh shit. What if the train explodes, or…or…what if it derails, Aisha?”
I shushed her.
Ahead, a few passengers looked back at us.
“Be quiet,” I said. “You’re going to scare all these people. Maybe for nothing.”
“Hello!” Destiny said. “There aren’t any emergency exits here. Maybe we ought to say something.”
I looked around the car.
There were at least fifteen people onboard. Quiet, reading their newspapers, phones, and tablets. An Asian man was staring out the window wistfully. The train went around a bend and made a beeline for the hospital, a tall rectangular silhouette several miles in the distance. Snow flecked against the windows, and a rogue wind rocked the car.
We were in the second to last car.
There were at least five cars on this train, probably a hundred or more passengers.
If something happened, it would be big.
And it would be a disaster.
We were at least a story and a half in the air. No one would survive a fall if the train derailed. And if there was an explosion, we would rain fire and death down on the traffic below. And there was a lot of traffic on the streets below us. Bumper to bumper.
“Did you see a conductor on the train?” I asked.
“I don’t remember,” Destiny said. “I wasn’t paying attention. I thought I read that only a few random cars have conductors now. All the cars are AI-driven.”
I tried to think back to when we were on the train platform. I didn’t remember if I saw a conductor in the split second that the lead car passed by me.
“Let’s make our way to the front,” I said. “And, Destiny, be quiet and don’t cause a commotion.”
“Maybe there’s a KTA official onboard,” Destiny said, brightening. “Sometimes they ride just because.”
“Let’s hope,” I said, “but that would be too easy. Probably not.”
“Shoot down the rest of my hopes and dreams, why don’t you?” Destiny asked.
We maneuvered our way to the front of the car, stepping over feet and suitcases.
I checked the door.
A giant warning was posted on the window: RIDING OR MOVING BETWEEN CARS IS PROHIBITED.
Under the words, a red circle and a stick figure standing between two subway cars with a line through him.
“F
antastic,” I said, grabbing the door handle. “I’m breaking the law. I’m breaking the law…”
I jimmied the handle. This door hadn’t been opened in a long time. I leaned into it with my shoulder.
“Hey!” someone cried. “You can’t open that door.”
“Watch me,” I said, sliding it open.
An arctic vortex blew into the car, almost knocking me back. Outside, the wind roared against the subway car and the tracks.
Someone yelled.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“Shut the goddamn door!”
I looked down.
A narrow hitch separated the two cars.
Barely big enough for my shoes.
Shit.
If I fell, I’d hit my head on the subway cars three or four times before bouncing off the tracks. THEN I would fall to my death.
Oh boy.
I inched out onto the hitch. I honestly didn’t think I was breathing. The city streets whirred below, and the cars were a blurry string of red brake lights.
Long way down.
Jesus.
“Careful,” Destiny whispered.
Behind her, several people rose to their feet.
I shimmied across the hitch and reached out, barely grabbing the handle of the next car.
I pushed.
And pushed.
And pushed!
The door slid open and I climbed inside, to the surprised faces of the car, which was mostly full. I held out my hand and Destiny climbed across the hitch. Someone slammed the door behind her.
We climbed into the new car and shut the door behind us.
The passengers stared at us angrily.
“Don’t mind us,” I said.
We started down the aisle.
A hand grabbed my elbow.
An older man stared back at me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Let go of me,” I said, anger rising.
“You want a ticket?” the man asked. “It’s illegal to climb between cars, in case you haven’t—”
CRACK!
I grabbed his arm and flipped him back into his seat. He sat back, dazed.
“Mind your own business,” I said.
Destiny and I charged toward the front of the car and the other passengers stepped aside.
I opened the door to the next car and climbed out.
Nightmare Stalkers Page 6