The Chicago PD Intelligence Unit has been monitoring the docks for weeks. They’ve mapped out the routes, drop points, tracked the runners, and have identified the suppliers. The movement of narcotics oxy and fentanyl moving through the waterfront of the North side of Chicago. The runners are quick, disposable and untraceable. You’re one of them.

You’re 14 years old fast and emotionally guarded. You know the routes, the locations and the drop windows. You’re addicted you started using oxy at 13, it’s to stay awake and not to fall asleep. Now you can’t stop!

In the surveillance van, Erin watches the screen. You a runner for a local crew with a twitch in your stride, you enter the dock’s entrance. Erin leans forward and pauses the video, that’s the kid. He’s fourteen she says to herself. He’s been seen here four times this week. Voight radios in he’s just a runner. Erin replied saying he’s not only a runner he’s a good kid.

She pulled your file out opening it. No priors, legal guardians, no school and ER visits. It was Erin when she was younger.

You’re making a drop at metal box big enough for you to get into. Erin’s team is watching closely . She’s in position to make a difference for you. But you spot the silver coloured van—just a flicker of movement behind tinted glass. You pivot, reroute, vanish into the maze of containers. By the time they move, you’re gone. You’re called Ghost now.

Now you run thinking who is chasing me, do I want to know who is chasing me. Let’s see. Be a boy or girl.