Meet Abby Banks VOLUMES: 1-3

by J. A. Cipriano

  I hopped up onto the counter and leapt down on the other side. I threw one last glance around the room, but spying no more intruders, I made my way to the front door. As I reached out toward it, alarm bells began going off in my head. I threw myself to the side as a shotgun blast ripped apart the cheap wooden door, showering me with fragments of wood and other debris.

  I hit the floor so hard, the shock of it ran down my back. The werewolf was already starting to turn itself around, its safety shut offs already cutting off the leak. It wouldn’t be fast, but once it got back to its feet, it’d hop after me.

  “Come out with your hands up, Abby,” a voice from outside the apartment called. “If you do, I won’t come in there and shoot you a whole bunch of times. Believe me, I’m looking forward to it, so I’d almost rather you try to escape.”

  “Not on your life!” I squealed, but the only reply was condescending laughter. I dropped to my hands and knees, bear crawling toward the window alongside the window. As I did so, bullets tore through the cheap walls, covering me in drywall and paint. The pictures above me shattered. Glass rained down on me as I tucked myself into a ball, hoping desperately to avoid getting sliced into ribbons. It mostly worked.

  Unlike last time, no one charged inside. So, they were learning too. A small canister rolled inside and gas began to spew forth from it. Damn. I hated when my adversaries learned from their mistakes too.

  I held my breath and rushed forward toward the far wall and the big window. They probably had it covered, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. I hit it in a dive, spraying glass everywhere as pain exploded through me. Thankfully, my uniform kept most of the glass from slicing me open, but it still hurt to throw myself bodily through it.

  The sound of bullets slamming into the ground around me filled my ears as I came to my feet in a roll and sprinted forward, zigging and zagging as best I could. A slug caught me in the shoulder, pitching me hard to the side and nearly making me lose my balance as my left arm fell uselessly to my side. Agony shot through me, but I pushed it down, gritting my teeth as my eyes slowly adjusted to the bright sunlight outside.

  A bullet zinged by my head as I flung myself sideways, rolling under a parked car. An army of feet appeared in my vision as I lay there for a split second, catching my breath. I couldn’t make out how many were there, but I was guessing at least six. If I didn’t get out of here quickly, I was done for. I rolled out from beneath the other side of the car and got to my feet as someone pressed a cold steel barrel against the back of my head.

  “Don’t move, Abby,” Chuck said, the smirk in his voice distinctive. “You did well, but it’s over now.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, whirling as the words left my mouth. The crack of the gunshot obliterated my hearing, reducing all sound into a muffled fog as I fell to the ground, pain unlike anything I’d ever felt coursing through me and setting every nerve aflame.

  I lay there, staring up at the sun, unable to even close my eyes and twitched as electricity coursed through my body. After what felt like ever, Chuck nudged me with the toe of his big black combat boot.

  “You need to stop trying to escape a gun to the back of your head,” he said, staring down at me and shaking his head. His piercing blue eyes watched for a moment longer before he squatted down next to me and poked my cheek with the barrel of his weapon. It looked like a gun, but instead of firing bullets, it fired concentrated blasts of electricity that knocked me on my ass for a several minute time span every single time. I was starting to hate it.

  “What else would you like me to do?” I mumbled, somewhat surprised I could speak. My body must have been acclimating to the shock of the bullets. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Not get a gun stuck against the back of your skull for one,” Chuck said, reaching down and grabbing my wrist like he was going to haul me to my feet, but instead, he dropped it and my arm fell lifelessly to the ground. He smirked. “I guess your mouth recovers before the rest of you. Next time, maybe I’ll shoot you twice.”

  “Next time, I’m going to shoot you,” I replied, annoyance filling my voice.

  “Abby, we’ve done this exact scenario over fifty times now, and while you’ve gotten pretty good at taking out the werewolf bots, you haven’t managed to take me down once.” He shook his head, smirking. “That’s not counting the other hundreds of scenarios we’ve run. Face it kid, you’re still amateur hour.”

  I would have narrowed my eyes at him, and for all I know I had, but it didn’t feel like I had. “Next time I’m going to get you, Chuck.”

  He leaned down and kissed me lightly on the forehead in a fatherly sort of way. “I look forward to it,” he replied, getting up. “Then maybe I can get off babysitting detail.” He turned and walked away.

  A cadre of soldiers was standing off to the side, watching us. There were twelve in total, and while they weren’t all super soldier quality like Chuck, I had no doubt they were all very good. The sight of them made me want to smile. The first time I’d run through this scenario, there hadn’t been any of them. For the agency to have added additional soldiers, they must have thought I was getting better. Not that Chuck would admit it. He never admitted it when I did well, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure why I cared what he thought. Sure, he was like the big brother I’d never had, but he was part of the agency.

  I still wasn’t quite sure why the agency was training me, or why the agency felt the need to use mechanical werewolves and other robotic supernatural creatures, but I knew one thing. I could sure use the training even if I didn’t want to admit it. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a choice.

  My father Roberto was still in a coma after being stung by some sort of super bug thing during our attempts to stop the last world takeover. The only thing keeping him alive at this point was the agency, and so far, the only thing they’d wanted in return for rendering aid was for me to accept training.

  I was sure sooner or later they were going to want me to do something else, and sadly, I’d probably agree to do it. This was how the agency worked after all. It captured your loved ones and forced you to do their bidding or else. It was only a matter of time before it happened to me. And believe me, the irony was not lost on my teenage brain because I had started off as collateral myself.

  Since then, I’d had a whole bunch of super spy skills downloaded into my brain, but I lacked one thing, experience. It was why Chuck had beaten me every single time. He had been around a long time, and despite all my expertise in hand to hand combat, shooting, explosives, and virtually any other skill necessary to become a top agent, his experience was more than enough to trump my abilities. Then again, he was the guy they’d based the superhero Captain America on, so there was that.

  As feeling returned to my body, I got slowly to my feet and fought the urge to attack Chuck from behind. It wasn’t because I thought jumping him with his back turned was unfair or unsportsmanlike or anything. It was because the last several times it’d just resulted in me taking an electric blast to the face.

  Instead, I put on my big girl pants and walked toward the group of soldiers. They grew silent as I approached, which wasn’t that odd because I had the feeling most of them resented me. After all, they were the best of the best, and I could take on any of them in a fight without even breaking a sweat. Maybe even all of them if I was feeling particularly feisty.

  “Hey,” I said, when no one acknowledged me. “What’s next, robot vampires?” I pointed past them toward where technicians were hauling the werewolf out of the house.

  “I don’t think you’re ready for vampires yet,” the soldier nearest to me said. He was about my height and even though most of his face was hidden by a black, featureless mask, I got the feeling he was smirking.

  “Yeah, it would be kind of hard to stake one through the heart since they’re made of metal and all,” I replied.

  Chuck glanced at me and shook his head. “I’m about to dump you back to ninjabots if you keep failing t
o live for less than ten seconds outside the apartment.”

  “If I had a gun, it’d be different,” I replied, giving him the same look I always did. “It’s not fair. I never start these things with a weapon.”

  “Here’s a tip, kiddo,” the first soldier said. “Life’s not fair.”

  2

  “I’m not moving an inch,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at Chuck as hard as I could.

  He raised an eyebrow at me, curious. “Why?”

  “Because it’s been over a month and Roberto is still in a coma,” I let out a long, slow breath. “And as much as I enjoy all the training, we had a deal.”

  “How do you know the director doesn’t want to see you because he’s found a cure?” he asked, still not moving from my doorway. He was large enough to fill the entire thing, making it so the light from the hallway cast him in eerie shadow.

  “While a fair point,” I replied, laying back down in my bunk and turning away from him as I pulled my green camouflage blanket over me. “I doubt he is summoning me at 3 AM for something like that.”

  “Doesn’t this seem exactly like the type of thing he’d get you out of bed at 3 AM for?” Chuck asked, pushing my door all the way open and taking a tentative step into the room. As he did so, the wire I’d attached to the doorway pulled the bucket full of water off the top of the frame, dousing him in icy cold revenge.

  I glanced back at him as the bucket hit the ground next to him with a clang. He stared at me for a long time, face blank and unreadable as I burst out laughing.

  “Were you being insolent so I’d come inside?” he asked, his voice calm and strangely detached. It sort of scared me… a lot.

  “Um… yeah,” I replied, leaping from my bed so I’d have a fighting chance if he decided to rush me. The room wasn’t very big, and I hadn’t beaten him in a fight, but I’d damn well try if I needed to do so.

  “Put some clothes on,” he replied, turning on his heel and striding outside, each footstep squelching on the metal floor.

  My cheeks burst into flames as I realized I was standing there in panties and a t-shirt that barely reached my belly button. I spun around and grabbed a pair of grey camouflage pants off the floor and pulled them on. I cinched them at the waist with my belt because it was still strung through the loops and glanced around for a more discrete shirt. Not seeing one immediately, I snagged my Bruins sweatshirt off the hook on the wall and pulled it over my head. It was pretty much the only piece of non-agency supplied clothing I owned. Chuck had bought it for me when we’d attended one of the games when they had played USC. He’d said it was a reward of some sort, but secretly, I was pretty sure he didn’t want to sit by himself.

  “You know,” I said as I walked into the hallway and spotted him standing there, face impassive as he waited for me. “The last time you got me up early in the morning you dragged me outside and blasted me with a fire hose for twenty minutes.”

  “Fair enough,” he growled and began marching down the hallway not even looking at me. I think I’d annoyed him.

  Still, as I followed him down the metal corridor, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was waking me up. I seriously doubted the agency had miraculously cured Roberto at 3 AM. It was possible, but most of the scientists worked normal hours. Sure there was a full range of medical personnel for emergencies, but this base always seemed more of a ghost town at night than not. I knew because I’d snuck around on more than a few occasions.

  So what were they up to? And why did Chuck seem so pissed? I was pretty sure something beyond being doused with a bucket of cold water was bothering him. Was it because of what I’d done? I hoped not… As much as I hated to admit it, I actually sort of liked Chuck in the really annoying, older brother sort of way. Pissing him off wasn’t what I’d intended at all.

  I sprinted after him, catching up to him and glancing at his face. It was set in a stony mask, but the very corners of his lips were tilted into a slight frown.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as he reached out and placed his palm on the big red scanner by the elevator. The machine whooped and glowed bright scarlet before turning green. The door opened and Chuck stepped inside, not saying anything.

  I sighed and stepped in beside him, and as I did, he hit the door close button with one massive thumb.

  “The problem is you just screwed up, bigtime,” Chuck replied as the doors slammed shut with an air of finality. “You don’t even realize what you’ve done.”

  “It’s just a little water,” I said, suddenly worried it was the water he was angry at. “I was just playing a prank. I’ve had that bucket up there for over a week.”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” he replied before turning pointedly away from me and staring at the elevator’s blank silver wall. He stood like that for a long time, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. A bad feeling started to settle over me. What was going on?

  I was about to ask when the doors whooshed open and purple light spilled into our elevator. The director’s office was so small, it barely qualified as a closet let alone an office for one of the most powerful men in the agency. The walls were stark and painted suicidal smiley face yellow. Aside from three threadbare black office chairs and a worn Formica desk, nothing else was ever in the room. Not even a potted plant. I’d asked him about it once, but he’d just shrugged and told me to mind my own budget.

  The director glanced up from the hologram he was looking at and waved his hand casually through the map of a silver domed shape structure in the middle of a jungle. As he did so, the image vanished into the ether.

  “I see you’re all wet,” the director said, staring at Chuck with his white, opaque eyes. I wasn’t quite sure why, but even though the guy was as blind as a bat, he always made sight jokes. It was a little unnerving, then again, even though I didn’t know him very well, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he did it just to make people uncomfortable. He struck me as that sort of guy.

  He stepped around his desk, one gnarled ebony hand trailing along the edge and smiled at me. “Seems you finally got him, Abby.”

  “Yeah,” I replied and before I could say more, Chuck stepped in between us and shook his head.

  “She got lucky,” Chuck said, turning to point at me like I was exhibit A.

  “Maybe,” the director replied, reaching up and rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Either way, this proves she’s ready.” Chuck opened his mouth, and the director narrowed his eyes. “Your objections are noted, General. We are moving ahead with Project Valkyrie.”

  Chuck let out a breath through his teeth, and I realized he’d been holding his breath. That was probably a bad sign since I was pretty sure Chuck wasn’t afraid of anything. At all.

  “What’s Project Valkyrie?” I asked, swallowing the sudden fear swimming up from my gut. No doubt it would be something horrible if the agency was involved. They had sent a psychotic robot after me before. To say I didn’t trust them to have my best intentions at heart was an understatement. Still, I was pretty sure they wanted something from me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to recruit me. The only problem was, I still didn’t know why.

  “Basically, you’re going to do a little job for us.” I wasn’t sure what the look on my face was exactly, but even though he was blind, the director raised his hands in a palms out gesture. “It’s nothing bad, per se. In fact, it will help us cure Roberto. See, there’s this lab—”

  An alarm exploded through the room, shattering my hearing as it lit up so brightly it made me think of an antiseptic hospital. Chuck whirled as the room shook, the sound of far off explosions filling our ears.

  “Already?” Chuck asked, eyes darting from the director to the doors and back again.

  “It would seem so,” the director replied, moving behind his desk. He must have pressed something because the next thing I knew, a passage opened up in the ceiling and a spiral staircase descended down in an instant.
<
br />   Chuck leapt in front of me, pushing me behind his body as the elevator doors began to open. “Get the director out of here, Abby.”

  I didn’t have time to argue as the doors stopped after opening only an inch. A bare copper wire edged through near the bottom. It was barely noticeable, but I was reasonably sure it was not a friendly wire.

  “Look out!” I screamed, throwing myself behind the desk as white light exploded from the wire, nearly blinding me even though I had my face buried in the crook of my arm. I heard two heavy thumps, like bodies hitting the ground.

  My eyes shot open as the elevator doors disintegrated into yellow powder and crumbled to the ground like the big bad wolf had given them both a huff and a puff.

  A woman dressed all in black stepped inside. She had close-cropped blonde hair and skin the color of dark chocolate. She glanced around, swinging a big two-handed gun around the room that looked like it was straight out of a videogame before gesturing for someone to follow.

  A man wearing Bermuda shorts and a tacky yellow Hawaiian shirt stepped inside. He had a silver pistol in one hand and a camera around his neck so he looked like a lost tourist. They stepped forward, ignoring Chuck’s body on the floor. The man knelt next to the director and tipped his straw hat at the man.

  “Ready to come with us?” he asked, voice a sort of lazy drawl and something about the way he said the words made me think I should stop him from abducting the director. I wasn’t sure why exactly because the director wasn’t a nice guy by any stretch of the imagination, but for some reason, I felt I should protect him from the people trying to kidnap him.

  The girl stepped into range. This was my chance to turn the tables. Even though everything inside me told me to hunker down and hide, I popped to my feet and drove my entire body into her side. She took the blow with a grunt, stumbling as my fist lashed out, catching her on the side of the head and dropping her to the floor. The sound of a gun cocking was so loud in the tiny room, it seemed to drown out all sound. I turned toward it to see the tourist pointing his pistol at me.