by Sophie Davis
When I woke up the next morning, I was immediately aware of Erik’s absence, and for some reason it made me feel even more alone than I had before he’d shown up the night before. I quickly packed my mission bag and headed for the hover hangar, my whole body a rope of tightly-kinked knots.
Erik and Henri were both waiting when I got there. The tension in the air was palpable. Nobody spoke. Erik’s vulnerability from last night was long gone, replaced by a confident mask that concealed his strained psyche.
Henri was all business. His demeanor lacked Erik’s confidence, but contained none of his nerves either. He was cool and collected, and he had cleared his mind of the slideshow of fears that had been playing there all week.
I curled up in my seat and closed my eyes, concentrating on turning off my mental abilities. I managed to reach a meditative-like state, with all of my energy focused on my sense of touch. My fingers traced the contours of the quilted seat cushion, counting the thread. If Erik or Henri thought my behavior was weird, they didn’t let on. I didn’t really care either way; I couldn’t handle their feelings on top of my own, it was easier to block it all.
All three of us changed in to our adapti-suits on the plane, and strapped on our weapons, since there would be no time to waste once we deplaned. Erik smudged adapti paint on my face, to make my skin blend in with my suit. It provided my entire body the ability to meld with the surroundings.
We needed to complete this mission very quickly. Once we were on the ground we’d have two hours to jog the ten miles to the village, do a quick check to verify our intel, complete the mission and get out. Kill Missions were too risky to linger in the vicinity for very long.
We landed in a small clearing like usual, and deplaned in silence. I immediately opened my mind up to establish our mental connection and we took off at a jog into the surrounding woods. I could feel both boys’ minds buzzing with concentration. The suit regulated my body temperature so that my body didn’t sweat, but that same couldn’t be said for my face. I had to resist the urge to wipe at the moisture dripping down, so I wouldn’t rub off any of the adapti-paint.
The jog was not strenuous, but the physical activity helped to take the edge off. Or at least it did, until the village came into view. Once the surroundings became familiar from the surveillance footage provided by Crypto my case of nerves returned two-fold. I pulled at the neck of my suddenly too-small suit and gulped air, never seeming to get enough in my lungs.
“Talia, I need you to focus. The sooner we get in there the sooner we get out. Okay?” Henri’s voice was not unkind, but contained an edge telling me that I needed to get myself under control, immediately. He was right; I needed to control myself. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on slowing my breathing. Erik placed one gloved hand on the nape of my neck and applied just a shadow of pressure.
“Be strong, Tal. You’ve got this,” he encouraged.
I took one last deep breath, “I’m ready.”
The laboratory was on the edge of a small village just over the border, in Coalition territory. On our jog we’d passed several solitary homes, but our best shot at finding the target alone was at work in his laboratory. The lab happened to be in the heavily-populated main village. We didn’t even have the luxury of waiting until dark, since we needed to catch him before he left for the evening. Our suits and face paint allowed us to blend easily into our surroundings; unless somebody was fairly close, or looked really hard, they wouldn’t notice our presence, but I still felt exposed as we moved through the village.
The laboratory was a long sprawling one-floor cement square building. We took cover behind a dumpster that wasn’t visible from the street. Henri worked quickly getting the imaging devices out of his bag and taking heat images of the cement building. Erik and I crouched over his shoulder, watching, as the images appeared on the tiny display screen. The concrete was thicker than we’d imagined but we were still able to pull faint images and confirm that the target was inside.
“Ready?” Henri asked.
“Ready,” Erik confirmed.
“Ready,” I echoed, not feeling ready at all. Erik’s words rang in my head, “Be strong.” Be strong, be strong, be strong, I chanted to myself. You’ve got this.
I followed Henri and Erik up to the front gate, and held my breath while Erik punched in a ten digit code. The lock on the gate soundlessly disengaged and Henri pushed it open, just enough for us to squeeze through. He took the lead and we flanked his sides. I reminded myself to breath, as I jogged silently up to the main entrance. We navigated the maze of hallways, back to where the target was supposed to be. The interior walls were the same thick concrete as the outside of the building, and I suddenly realized that there were probably more people in the building than we’d seen on the imager.
My thoughts were confirmed when two men rounded the corner at the end of the corridor that we were walking down. The hallways were too narrow to hope that we would go unnoticed, even if we flattened ourselves against the concrete walls.
“Erik, take the left. I’ll take the right. Talia, move on to the target,” Henri ordered.
The men didn’t see us until it was too late. Henri and Erik attacked in unison, catching their prey by surprise. I ran through the middle of the fights and continued on to where we’d seen the red outline on the scan, indicating the target. I found the room easily and turned the knob, but it didn’t budge. Putting my other hand on the door, I envisioned the locking mechanism. I mentally disengaged all of the bolts and felt the knob turn in my hand. I breathed a sigh of relief, and pushed the door open.
A short, balding man sat behind a large table full of vials and contraptions all holding different colored liquids. He looked directly at me, and dropped the vial that he was holding in his hand. I didn’t know how many more might be in the building, but I didn’t want to take the chance, so I froze the vial to suspend it in mid-air, before it could shatter on the floor. The guy could see me, but was having a hard time focusing on me since the suit and face paint were obscuring my appearance.
I moved slower than I should have towards him, reaching for one of the knives in my belt.
“Toxic, right?” the man stuttered.
I didn’t respond; I couldn’t have formulated words if my life depended on it. My tongue felt thick and heavy, filling the small space between my tightly clenched jaws, and a sour taste ran down the back of my throat. I continued towards him. He backed away as I advanced, knocking over vials as he went. I wasn’t fast enough to mentally catch all of them before they hit the ground. So much for not attracting attention. He continued to retreat until his back slammed into the far wall of the room. I quickened my pace, until I was standing over top of him. He fell to his knees by my feet, holding up his hands to shield himself. My reflexes took over and I pounced, pressing my knife to his throat.
“No, please, no,” the man begged.
I reached with my free hand into my belt and grabbed the syringe holding the poison. I gripped the syringe so hard that I could feel the skin over my knuckles go tight. The same panic that had seized me outside took over my body again. My chest heaved in and out, as I tried to catch my breath. I felt a burning sensation in the corners of my eyes, and willed myself not to cry.
Noting my hesitation the man started to get up. I pushed the tip of the knife harder against the pale skin of his neck, penetrating the flesh and drawing blood. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to erase my misgivings. The man shrank back even further, pressing himself into the wall. A large hand closed around mine, the one holding the syringe. The hand forced the syringe into the man’s bulging blue vein, and depressed the plunger. I watched in horror as the man’s dark brown eyes dulled and then rolled back as he slumped to the floor.
The hand holding mine pried my fingers away from the syringe, that I was still holding.
”Let go, Tal.”
I collapsed back against the person attached to the hand – Erik. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to
his chest for a brief second before releasing me, to reach in his pack. I fell to my knees next to the man’s lifeless form. Erik pulled out a small scanner, similar to the one that Henri had used to image my body when I got stabbed. He scanned the man’s body, and the scanner gave a barely-perceptible beep.
“He’s dead,” Erik confirmed.
I couldn’t move. I stared down at the dead man’s body, opened mouthed. I felt the burning sensation behind my eyes again.
“We need to go now, Natalia,” Erik said firmly, pulling me to my feet. He wrapped his arm around my waist and gently pulled me to the door. Henri was standing guard outside. We sprinted out of the building, the same way that we’d come in, with Henri in the lead. We didn’t slow our pace until we reached the edge of the woods.
Henri and Erik quickly shed their weapons and packs, and morphed into two large birds. As if on auto-pilot, I mindlessly strapped their weapons to my body and the packs to Henri’s back. When I was confident that everything was secure, I climbed on to Erik’s back, in the space between his wings, and wrapped my arms securely around his neck. I closed my eyes as the two large birds took off into the now-dark night sky.
I had yet to master riding Erik’s giant bird form, but I was consistently staying on in practices so I wasn’t really scared flying the distance back to the hover plane. I was in such a state of shock, that I don’t think I would’ve cared if I did fall off.
The two giant birds touched down in the clearing, near the waiting craft. I jumped off of Erik’s back before his talons struck the ground, and ran up the gangplank before either could morph back. I climbed into my seat. I fumbled with the buckles, trying and failing to fit all of the pieces in to the right parts. I screamed in frustration when I failed for the third time.
“I got it, Tal,” Erik said gently, taking the buckles out of my hands. He deftly fastened the buckles and then got up, returning a moment later with chemi wipes. He gently cleaned the streaked paint off my face, wiping away the silently falling tears with his thumb before he stood. When he finished, he got up and went to clean himself up.
“You did really well, Natalia,” Henri said, taking Erik’s place next to my chair.
“Thanks,” I sniffed.
“I know how hard it is the first time. I’d like to tell you that it gets easier, but it doesn’t,” he continued sadly.
I nodded like I understood. He reached out and squeezed my hand, before getting up to take his seat. I tucked my knees up against my chest and rested my head on top. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t manage to fall asleep.
The ride back to Headquarters was just as silent as the ride out, but the mood on the hover plane was different. Instead of the stress and tension, the ride back was filled with sadness and remorse. Both Henri and Erik kept stealing not-so-discreet glances in my direction.
When we arrived back at Headquarters, I went straight to my room. Erik, Penny, and Henri all made excuses to knock on my door, but I ignored all of them.
For the first time since our fight, I wanted to reach out to Donavon. Up until now I’d felt a barrage of emotions towards him, mostly anger and pain, but this was the first time I actually missed him. I lost track of the number of times I opened my mind to seek out Donavon, and it took every ounce of restraint that I could muster to keep me from actually calling out to him. Erik or Penny or even Henri would have come to sit with me, but it wasn’t the same. Despite everything, I yearned for the comfort that only Donavon could provide.
I barely slept the night that we got back. I sat in my big bed, clutching an overstuffed purple pillow filled with goose feathers, staring mindlessly out of my huge window at the grounds below. The next morning, I woke up more depressed than when I went to sleep, made worse when I realized that it was the beginning of the Festivis Holiday.
The Nation came together every May 13th to celebrate Festivis Day – the day that the government had halted the Coalition’s rebellion. I wasn’t really sure about celebrating a holiday that marked the split of a country, but I that think I might be the only person who viewed it that way. Officially, the government declared that Festivis signified the commitment of the lasting states to remain unified. Given how tenuous the government’s hold on some of those states was, I hoped that the celebrations served as a reminder of how great a nation we could be, if we stayed unified.
All of the Operatives not training for an active mission were permitted to leave Headquarters. Ordinarily, I would have spent the holiday with Mac, Gretchen, and Donavon, but despite my moment of weakness the previous night, I wasn’t ready to see Donavon, let alone stay in the same house as him. Gretchen had sent me message after message, begging me to come home, but I didn’t return any of them. Mac had come to see me several times since the incident with Donavon, and passed on more of Gretchen’s pleading. I’d told him that I thought it best if I stayed at Headquarters. Mac had assured me that he understood and of course the decision was mine.
My communicator began buzzing early that morning. I groaned, and reached out in its general direction. Mac’s name flashed across the display screen. I considered not answering, but I knew that he was aware that I was back from my mission, and would likely call until I answered. I fumbled around with the buttons until I finally found the right one.
“Hi, Mac,” I croaked, as Mac’s holographic face appeared.
“Hello, Natalia,” Mac sounded slightly disapproving. I hoped that it was because I was still in bed, and not because he’d that learned I cried during my assignment. Mac didn’t approve of crying.
“Happy Festivis, Mac,” I mumbled into my pillow.
“Yes, Happy Festivis. There will be lots of parades and celebrations going on in the District over the next couple of days, I’ve arranged for both you and Penelope to attend any that you wish. Please don’t overdo it; no other Pledges have been afforded the same privileges.”
“Thanks, Mac,” I replied, brightening slightly as I propped myself up on my elbow. “Tell Gretchen that I said hi and I will see her at my graduation.”
“Yes, I will . . . Speaking of graduation, I heard that you completed your first Kill Mission yesterday.”
Oh no, here came the lecture.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quickly.
“Natalia, you knew that this was part of the job,” Mac said flatly. Guess he had heard about my breakdown.
“I know,” I replied tightly, gritting my teeth.
“You’d better get used to it, and fast. You graduate very soon. Once you are a full Hunter, Kill Missions will be more prevalent.”
“I know,” I repeated, an edge to my voice.
“Do you still want to be a Hunter, Natalia?” Mac demanded.
“Of course I do!” I exclaimed, scrambling into a sitting position.
“Good. Start acting like it,” he retorted bitterly. I sighed. His words were laced with unspoken innuendo. I had chosen to be a Hunter. I’d worked towards this goal every day since I went to the McDonough School. I knew what the Hunters did before I came here, I’d just been unprepared for the difference between knowing what Hunters did, and actually doing it. Now I knew. I just had to get used it.
“Your solo mission is just around the corner,” he continued. “It is supposed to be a formality, but if you do not perform well, you will not become a Hunter. Nothing that I can do will change that.”
I don’t know if he meant it as a threat, but that’s how I interpreted it. I winced. I’d never really considered not becoming a Hunter. That was not an option.
I’d chosen the Hunters because that was the only chance I’d have to find the man responsible for my parents’ deaths. Most mental Talents work in psychic interrogation, but I knew that would never be enough for me. I didn’t want to interrogate the man who ordered my parent’s execution. I wanted to hunt him down; I wanted to kill him. The realization hit me hard. I guess I did have a killer inside me.
A myriad of excuses for Mac were on the tip of my tongue, but Mac did
n’t want excuses. Mac wanted results. Besides, he already knew that I’d been distracted after the incident with Donavon – I think that was kind of the point of this phone call.
“I understand,” I said instead.
“I hope that you do. I hope that you’re taking your position seriously.”
“I am,” I protested, louder than I meant to.
“Good, because if you fail your solo mission, I won’t be able to save you,” he warned.
“I’m not asking you to,” I replied coldly.
“Enjoy the holiday,” Mac said, letting me know that the conversation was over.
“Whatever,” I spat back.
“Goodbye, Natalia.” My communicator made a loud buzzing noise, and then Mac’s holographic image disappeared.
I screamed in frustration, rolling over on to my back. I pounded my fist against the mattress. It was childish, but I was furious – mostly with myself. I needed to be more focused. I needed to become fore desensitized to what we were doing. Toxic was important, and what we were doing was important. The Coalition killed my parents. They deserved anything that came their way. I pounded the mattress with my fist again, this time in determination. I climbed out of bed and headed to my bathroom, vowing that I’d be stronger, next time. Next time, I wouldn’t falter. Next time, Erik wouldn’t have to do it for me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
There was an insistent pounding on my door when I exited the bathroom a short while later. I pulled the tie on my fluffy bathrobe a little tighter, as I opened my mind. It was Penny. Should’ve guessed. I mentally forced the door open, and Penny’s lanky form tumbled through, red hair first.
“Hey!” she exclaimed.
“Hey, Penny,” I smiled.