FlyGirl 2.0

Chapter 3 - Siobhan

WHEN I GOT off the train at Millennium Station, a ghost waiting for me. Jeez. With all these hauntings, you'd think it was October. Should have brought some salt to ward it off.

The ghost wore a black suit and tie with a white shirt, because in life this ghost had been a federal agent. Seeing me, the ghost did this chin nod thing. "Hey, McIver. How you doing?"

I made the sign of the cross. "Begone, spirit," I intoned and sprinted for the Michigan Street exit.

Luck was with me; a taxi was dropping off two older women. I made a beeline for it like it was the last life raft on the Titanic.

"McIver!" The ghost chased after me, yelling at the top of its ghostly lungs. "Slow down! C'mon, I know you can hear me, McIver! Don't you make me run...you're making me run. McIver...McIver... how are you running in five-inch heels?"

I made it to the cab and was about to slid inside, when this guy in a Northwestern sweatshirt pushed me out of the way and took the cab for himself.

"Excuse me!" I yelled. "That's my cab!"

Northwestern sweatshirt laughed. "Not anymore." The cab pulled into traffic.

"You suck!" I screamed after him. "Asshat!"

"Holy crap! McIver, you are a nimble one." The ghost materialized beside me, wheezing, which was strange for a ghost, since a ghost should be in better shape. "I am winded. Seriously. Was that entirely necessary?" He leaned on his knees and looked up the street. "Whatcha looking at?"

I ignored it because I do not have the sight, and can neither see nor hear ghosts. "Burn in hell, cab stealer!"

"Aw, someone stole your cab?" the ghost mocked. "That's life in the big city, toots." Some unseen force that must have been a ghost bumped my shoulder. "Lucky break for me, though, right?"

Ghosts are obnoxious. I started walking towards McIver Tower.

A disembodied voice followed me. "Okay, I get it. You've made your point. I ghosted you. I'm a ghost, and you're treating me like I'm a ghost."

Suddenly, a force field blocked me from walking forward. "McIver, c'mon. You can't still be mad at me."

I looked around. "It's like this buzzing, but on a frequency I can't hear because I don't speak ghost." I moved around the force field, but I was still blocked.

"Alright, you wanna be like that?" Suddenly I saw something bright and shiny, like a firearm in a shoulder harness. A badge began floating in front of me. "You wanna make this official? I can make it official. We can go downtown, and have a seat in one of our fancy interrogation rooms, and we can make it official."

I dropped the act. "What for? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Oh, I'm sure we could find something," Special Agent Jason Donnelly replied with his trademark smirk. "How you doing, McIver? You look pretty."

And just like that, Special Agent Jason Donnelly materialized in front of me. "Oh, goodness!" I shrieked, clutching my heart. "Special Agent Jason Donnelly of the Federal Bureau of Investigation! I didn't see you standing there!" I pointed at him. "Behold, before me stands Special Agent Jason Donnelly of the Federal Bureau of Investigations."

"Okay, that's enough." Donnelly made the universal sshh gesture. "Quiet."

I ignored him. To a passing family who were clearly on vacation, I said, "Check it out, a real-life Chicago FBI agent. A direct descendant of those brave law enforcement agents who butchered John Dillinger in an alley that's not too far from here, and nailed Al Capone for not paying his taxes."