Trains...

She watched them come closer to her seat at each stop.

The train car had started out fairly full but as it made its way downtown more and more people got off and fewer and fewer got on.

But she was still there. And they were still there. Just moving closer to her at each stop.

She looked down at the cast on her arm and the brace on her ankle. Definitely giving off wounded animal vibes.

She had often wondered if this was part of reincarnation, coming up the ladder from animals. That some people had been predators in their past lives, and some had been prey. And that basic core personality didn’t change.

You could see it in almost every facet of daily life. Heads of companies definitely gave off predator vibes. Can’t we all just get along and love each other? Prey. Unless a predator found a way into a group and just said the words while picking off the most vulnerable.

Or maybe it wasn’t reincarnation but just basic human evolution. Some are predators and some are prey. Each generation starting with a mix of the two. The predators either enriching themselves with no care as to who they hurt or actually hurting others because they enjoyed it.

Prey tended to be hypervigilant. They didn’t always channel it correctly, sometimes it came out as anxiety. They were worried but they didn’t know why. Other times it seemed almost like paranoia.

Were they actually moving closer to her seat or were they just moving? Herd animals would all bolt if one of them freaked out over a sound and ran. Keep the herd together, stay in the center of the herd and you were less likely to get picked off. But what if you were already separated from the herd? What if you were the wounded and weak animal that couldn’t move as fast? Or the herd was leaving you at each train stop?

She looked around the car again. Now she had a decision to make. Should she stay on the almost empty train, just her and them, or get off at the next stop? The next stop was an underground station. No phone reception down there so no way to call the police for help. It was not likely to be busy at this time of day. If it were morning or evening rush hours, she might find a crowd there but at 1 in the afternoon it was most likely empty. Nobody getting on, nobody getting off.

Stay on the empty train. Five minutes until the next stop. Just her and them. Maybe they were just moving, not moving toward her. Or get off the train and see if they followed, 10 minutes at least until the next train came, but probably closer to 20 at this time of day. And that would only matter if someone on the train saw anything, or if someone got off. Again. Not likely.

Would they even follow her if she got off? Or would they stay on the train and laugh at the scared woman hobbling away from them. “Did you see her face? Dude! Hilarious!”

Sometimes they liked to play at being a predator. Scare the prey more than actually hunt it. Like lion cubs chasing butterflies.

The train started to slow down for its stop. Get off or stay on? She tried to nonchalantly look to see where they were now. Had they come even closer? Were they moving to block the door in front of her? Five minutes until the next stop. Ten minutes at least in the tunnel before the next train. On or off.

The doors opened and she sat for a moment before deciding. She got off and hobbled to the exit behind her and stepped off the train as the doors were closing.

The doors stopped inches from being totally closed and opened again. A foot breaking the beam and causing them to start the cycle again.

And off they came.

One, two, three.

They smiled at her or was it bared their teeth. It was the same really at this point.

Waiting for the train to pull out. Watching the platform to see if anyone else got off this time.

Just her and them.

They came toward her and now it was her turn to smile.

She flexed her fingers in the false cast she was wearing, feeling the steel bars cool against her skin and started to reach toward the knives she had holstered in the ankle brace.

There are prey and predator in this world.

It was important to really know which one you were.