At that moment, the train zoomed into a tunnel.
Everything went dark except for the lights inside the subway cars.
I stumbled back and almost lost my footing, but Destiny grabbed me.
“Umm, DON’T do that!” Destiny said. “Please don’t die on me, Aisha.”
“Not planning on it,” I said, jumping and reaching the handle of the next door.
It opened easily and we slid into a packed car.
And it stank.
Bad.
A homeless man lay in the rearmost seat, snoring.
The stank hit me hard—a mixture of urine and body odor—and I quickened my pace.
“Sit down!” someone cried.
“Quit passing between the cars!” another cried.
I ignored them.
Only one car left.
I craned my neck to see if I could spot the conductor. But I couldn’t.
The car was only half full, and most of the passengers sat in the back.
I slid the door open and stepped out as the train emerged from the tunnel.
Kemiston Memorial Hospital was closer now, so close I could see the letters on the building, a neon sign glowing in the snow.
I opened the door to the front car and helped Destiny inside.
Angry faces stared at us.
I tuned them out, charging straight for the front of the car, for the conductor booth.
“Let’s hope there’s someone in there,” Destiny said.
“Amen,” I said.
I reached the door and knocked on it.
“Hello?” I asked. “Hello!”
Nothing.
“What’s the time?” I asked.
“Ten thirteen,” Destiny said.
“Call the police,” I said.
Destiny dialed the police. They answered quickly.
“Hello,” Destiny said. “Listen, I’m on the ten fifteen subway train bound for Kemiston Memorial Hospital. Call the KTA and tell them to stop the train. Something weird is afoot.”
Pause.
“No, I’m not kidding,” she said. “This isn’t a prank. People are going to die if you don’t stop this car, do you hear me?”
She paused.
The passengers in the car stared at us.
Uh oh.
“Oops,” Destiny said, covering the mouthpiece.
Click.
The other line hung up on her.
“Great job,” I said.
I grabbed the handle of the conductor box and pulled it.
It was locked.
I knocked again.
“Hello!” I screamed. “Please open the door!”
“Sit down!” someone said.
“Shut up!” I cried, not looking back.
I spotted a hardback suitcase sitting next to a man in the front row.
“Sorry,” I said, snatching the suitcase.
“Hey, wait!” the man cried.
SMASH!
The suitcase crashed through the glass of the conductor box, shattering it.
An alarm sounded on the train.
“You two are trouble!” a woman cried.
The passengers gathered and advanced toward us.
“We’re not trouble,” Destiny said. “But there’s about to be trouble if we don’t do something.”
Someone drew a knife.
Destiny put up her fists.
“Don’t start no trouble and there won’t be no trouble,” she said.
The passengers retreated.
I reached through the broken glass and grabbed the door handle on the other side.
Flinging the door open, I climbed into the conductor booth.
But there was no one inside.
Yellow magic floated over the control panel, which was glittering with red and yellow lights.
Magic…
Magic?
The subway panels were supposed to be controlled by AIs.
I don’t ever remember them being controlled by magic.
And then the magic gathered into a ball, flashed, and an explosion ripped through me, sending me flying out of the conductor booth, crashing into Destiny.
A yellow flashing plasma glowed from the conductor box.
A giant magical skull blocked the door, and it roared at us.
13
The skull moved back and forth across the conductor booth like a cobra sizing up its opponent.
“What the actual fuck this that?” Destiny asked, helping me up.
“I don’t know, but it’s not happy to see us,” I said.
The skull roared again, filling the car with screams and light.
The passengers yelled and crowded to the back of the car.
The rear door slid open and someone jumped into the next car.
“Oh, okay,” Destiny said, calling back. “You gonna get mad at us for jumping the cars, but the first sign of trouble, you gonna be the main one running away. Okay, a’ight…”
Destiny stared at the skull.
“Wish we had Darius,” she said. “I won’t be able to damage it.”
“Any wizards onboard?” I asked.
A thin, wiry Asian man in the back of the car raised his hand, almost afraid to do it.
“Any ideas?” I asked.
“It looks like some kind of supernatural spirit,” the man said.
“Hit it with the best spell you got, buddy,” I said.
The man ran to me, his hands glowing. He raised his hands into an attack pose, and pushed a fireball.
It hit the skull in the nose cavity and exploded.
The skull roared and retaliated, sending a wave of plasma at the man.
“Aaaaaagh!” the man cried.
And then he fell to the ground, his body burning.
I patted the flames away and he yelled, scurrying back.
“Back it up, everyone!” I shouted. “Back it up!”
I pushed the passengers backward, toward the rear door. Quickly, they filed out.
Outside, Kemiston Memorial Station grew closer.
The skull settled in the center of the conductor booth, silent.
“It’s protecting the booth,” I said. “It only attacks if we attack it.”
“Then we need to take it out with a one-hit kill,” Destiny said.
I suddenly became aware of my phone in my coat pocket.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Get everyone safely into the next car.”
Destiny nodded. Then she whistled and barked, “Get your ass into the next car or we’re going to have a problem!”
She transformed into a female lion and roared. The passengers moved faster.
Destiny jumped into the next car and transformed back to into her human form.
“Let’s go, cuz!” she cried.
The Asian man started to jump into the car, but I grabbed him by the jacket collar.
“Not so fast,” I said.
The man shrank away, his eyes widening in fear.
“What’s your problem, lady?” he asked. “That thing is unbeatable.”
“Just because one spell backfired doesn’t mean it’s unbeatable,” I said. “I need you to cast one more spell.”
“Hell no!” the man cried.
I pulled him closer.
“Unless you want to be responsible for everyone on this train dying, you don’t have a choice,” I said.
His eyes softened. He looked back at Destiny, who scowled at him.
“Don’t make my cousin turn into a lion,” I said. “It won’t end well for you.”
“Okay, okay,” he said.
I glanced at the clock on my phone.
Ten fourteen.
God.
One minute left.
“I’m going to chuck my phone at the skull,” I said. “I need you to create the biggest fireball you can, then I want you to aim it at my phone. Then, I want you to cast another spell and separate these two cars. Got it?”
The man nodded. We climbed into the next car.
“On the count of three,” I said, taking a practice arc with my phone.
I hoped my old softball arm worked this time, the one time in life I needed my aim to work!
“One,” I said.
I swung my arm forward, planning my arc.
“Two,” I said.
I swung my arm back.
“Three!”
I threw the phone as hard as I could.
The man let off a fireball from his fingertips that tracked after the phone.
Then the man pointed his hands at the hitch, sending lightning into it, melting the connectors.
The cars disconnected, and I shut the door just as the front car exploded.
The car turned into a massive fireball that engulfed the tracks.
Meanwhile, our car slowed down, separated from the fireball.
BOOM!
The subway car exploded again and lost speed as it hurtled through the Kemiston Memorial Subway Terminal, past it and into a tunnel. The tunnel grew bright with fire as a final explosion rocked the car. Then all was still.
Our car chugged down the fiery tracks. Even though we were losing speed, we were still traveling crazy fast.
Chug.
Chug.
Chug.
Chug.
Slowly, we slid to a stop at the subway platform, as if we had perfect timing.
The pedestrians on the platform looked at us like we were aliens, eyes wide and mouths hung open.
“Welp,” Destiny said. “The good news is that nobody died.”
I puffed. “And the bad news?”
Destiny pointed to the stairs leading up to the platform.
A fleet of police officers charged onto the terminal, running straight for us.
14
A Kemiston Transit Authority official hopped on the tracks and connected a hook to our subway car.
With a winch, he dragged us a few feet into the terminal, the wheels on the car grinding and clicking and throwing up sparks.
Two police officers stuck crowbars in the doors and wedged them open.
“Everybody out!” the officers said as the passengers filed out of the cars.
Destiny and I ran onto the platform and a rush of warmth pelted us.
In the tunnel ahead, the subway car was burning bright. The flames were orange and black.
The fumes were thick and noxious. I covered my mouth with my scarf.
That fire was unsurvivable. To think that could have been me and Destiny made me shudder.
“How lucky were we?” Destiny asked, huddling close.
“One of these days, our luck is going to stop,” I said. “It’s just going to say ‘aww, fuck it’ and just leave us, Destiny.”
“Until that day happens, I’ma pray,” Destiny said. “And be happy that my ass isn't on that train, burning into fried Destiny. Damn.”
Two officers guided everyone off the platform toward a covered bridge that led toward the hospital.
Firefighters descended on a crane, shooting water into the tunnel.
Meanwhile, firefighters on the ground pointed their hands at the blast, shooting ice spells at the flames.
Not even magic and gallons upon gallons of water could extinguish the fire.
Destiny’s phone rang.
“It's Darius,” she said. “Hello, you're talking to an almost dead woman.”
I heard a sigh of relief.
“Tell him we’re on our way,” I said. “As soon as we cut through the commotion, we can jog to the emergency room lobby in a few minutes.”
Destiny relayed the message as we negotiated our way through the crowd.
“Did they get the MRI results?” I asked.
“Nope,” Destiny whispered. “Darius says they're STILL waiting. Apparently, the attack put the hospital on high alert.”
“Fabulous,” I said.
In the distance, several of the subway passengers pointed at us.
A group of officers looked at us suspiciously.
I patted Destiny on the shoulder to get her attention.
She spotted the looks too.
“Umm, I hate to cut this joyous reunion short, but…huh? No, of course I want to talk to you! Quit playin’, D! We are being followed. I don't know by who. Will you just let me hang up and tell you later?”
I hit Destiny again and she hung up.
Two police officers approached. One was Kemiston City Police. He wore the classic blue outfit and hat. The other was in a black shirt with the word FBI on the front. Short, stocky, bald black guy with sunglasses.
The FBI agent carried a purple charm, and he dangled it between his fingers. He swung it back and forth like a pendulum.
Destiny’s phone glowed purple.
A tracking charm.
“Oh no,” I breathed.
The FBI agent raised his sunglasses to get a good look at us.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
Destiny and I froze.
“Were you the ones that called 911 about the subway car?” he asked. There was grit and anger in his voice.
I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out.
“Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes,” Destiny squeaked.
The man tucked the charm away. Then he pointed at us.
Several police officers swarmed out of the crowd and grabbed us.
“You're coming with me,” he said.
15
Destiny and I rode to the police station in the back of a squad car.
A police officer drove in silence, glancing back at us occasionally. The FBI agent, in the passenger seat, said nothing either, and he didn’t look back once at us. I had no choice but to stare at his bald head for the whole ride.
Meanwhile, Destiny’s phone sat on the center console, glowing purple under a protective barrier. The phone buzzed repeatedly.
Probably Darius.
But we could only watch the phone vibrate as the police transported us to the station, a stark brick building wedged between two glass office buildings.
We entered an underground parking garage and the officers ushered us out of the car, directing us to walk through a steel door and into a narrow blue hallway. We passed several police officers, who looked at us curiously.
The FBI agent grunted and told us to enter the last door on the left.
We walked into an interrogation room with a single table and three chairs.
“Have a seat,” the FBI agent said. He thanked the other police officer and shut the door.
We sat down nervously.
I eyed Destiny. She looked like she was about to cry.
The agent remained standing.
I finally got a good look at him. He was in his forties. Short, stocky, but muscular—built like a pit bull. He looked like he played football in high school, a long, long time ago.
“Ladies, my name is Special Agent Bryce Rodgers,” he said. “I’m with the FBI Magical Crimes Unit. I don’t suffer fools. I don’t mince words. I want the truth. If I don’t get the truth, we’re gonna have a problem. Got it?”
We nodded slowly.
“Good,” Agent Rodgers said.
He pointed at Destiny. Then he produced her phone and slid it across the table.
The purple barrier around the phone disappeared.
“You’re a popular girl,” Rodgers said.
Destiny said nothing.
“Talk on the phone much?” he asked. “Maybe want to check and see who that is?”
Destiny shook her head.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“N-N-None…”
“I’m sorry, what?” Rodgers asked.
“N-N-N-None of your business,” Destiny said.
“We can get a warrant,” Rodgers said. “And we will.”
“A warrant for what?” I asked. “We didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t understand why we’re even being questioned.”
“That right?” Rodgers asked. “Which one of you was the one on the train that yelled people were going to die?”
I gulped.
“Which one of you had the bright idea to cross between subway cars?” Rodgers asked.
“I did,” I said. “And if you were paying attention, I crossed between cars because I needed to stop the train.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because…” I said, trailing off.
“Go on,” Rodgers said. “I think you need to start talking because there might be jail time in your future.”
“Then I want an attorney,” I said. “And a phone call.”
“Yeah, we want an attorney,” Destiny said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“You can do whatever you want,” Rodgers said. “I won’t stop you.”
He leaned forward on the table.
“But here’s how I see it, ladies. I’ve been up for the last two days investigating the recent incidents at the subway terminals across the city. I hit a wall. Couldn’t find anything. And then I meet you two, who seem to know more than you’re letting on. How do you think that looks to a cop?”
“Attorney,” I said.
“Like I said,” Rodgers said, opening the door, “go on and walk out of here if you want to. But I’m curious. Damn curious about kind of shit you two ladies are wrapped up in. And when I get curious, I don’t stop until the curiosity is gone. And when you’re me, curiosity ends when somebody goes to jail.”
“Then you’re gonna be curious for a long time,” I said.
“Maybe,” Rodgers said. “Maybe not. But a word of warning: if you don’t want to talk, I’ll make you talk. I got your names, your address. I won’t stop until I’ve figured this out. I’ll figure out who you were talking to. And I’ll find him or her. And I’ll make them talk. My hunch is they’re going to point me right back to you. So go ahead, ladies. Walk on out of here. But if you end up back here, you gonna have a major problem.”
He grinned.
“But if you talk, and you satisfy my curiosity, it’s all good,” he said. “Won’t be a problem. I turn into a nice guy. The kind that’ll go get you a soda and make you feel comfortable, relaxed. You want a guy like me on your side.”
“Attorney,” I said.
“You don’t need an attorney,” Rodgers said. “You aren’t under arrest.”
I rose and motioned Destiny for me to follow.
Destiny grabbed her phone.
“Don’t use your phone,” I said. “Who knows what kind of charm he put on it.”
Nightmare Stalkers Page 7