On the Shuttle to Nowheresville (late double drabble)

The scent of fear and rust clung to the air of the crowded bullet train.  The black synth-leather boots of the sec guards squeaked crisply on the corrugated floor as they made their way in my direction.  I knew they’d come looking for me.  Decked in padded body armor and sleek riot helmets, they made their way up from the back of the train, checking each commuter’s ID card along the way.  Hands trembled as they held up cards to be confirmed by the guards’ handheld scanners.  I pulled my tan overcoat tighter against my body, as if I could disappear into it.  My forged ID card could fool the cameras and crowd scans, but I knew it would be useless up close.  But I also knew that the security screen for this sector should still be down for another six minutes and forty-one seconds.  That should buy me enough time, time enough to reach the next station, to find a small bus to a remote, uninteresting town, where no one would think to look for me, where I could be nobody.

“Your ID sir.”  Black boots filled my vision.  I pretended not to hear.

“Sir?”
 

Just a little further…