Caleb pushed his way into the station, steps heavy, mind all over the place. In the middle of the crowd, his stomach suddenly tightened—a small pressure forcing itself out. He muttered under his breath.
"Shit… I gotta piss first."
The day was sliding toward noon, sunlight spilling through the station's high glass, stretching long shadows across the tiled floor. Caleb followed the signs, slipping into the hallway toward the public restroom.
Far back, the three ragged men were still on his tail. They traded looks, crooked grins spreading across their faces.
"Damn… today's easy pickings," one whispered, spitting on the floor. Their low laughter cracked out, rough and contagious.
Caleb ducked into a stall, handled his business quick. When he stepped back out, he stopped at the sink. Cold water ran over his trembling hands. He lifted his gaze to the grimy mirror. Dark eyes stared back at him, half-hidden under the mask.
