Adrenaline Rush

by Cindy M. Hogan

  He was right about that. He was a means to an end. He helped me fit into the group that would be kidnapped. I hated that it made my heart hurt. I hoped I’d be better able to control my emotions on this mission than the last one, where I had to befriend the daughter of a terrorist so that Division 57 could bring him down. I had allowed myself to get too close to her. I truly counted her as one of my best friends, ever. And here I was, getting too close to a boy this time. Would I ever be able to control my heart?

  “You’re right about that,” I said. “I never would.”

  He kissed me, told me to stay put and then ran around the car and helped me out.

  Deep inside, I knew he spoke the truth. I made a promise to myself right then—when we were all kidnapped, I’d make sure to keep Dakota safe. He was the real deal, something special. He, and all the other kids, were counting on me—even if they didn’t know it. I had to push away all the feelings I had for him and focus. I had a mission to complete, and my heart could not overrule my head.

  I woke at ten the next morning. My parents came into the kitchen while I ate breakfast. I briefed them on all that happened, leaving out the kiss with Dakota. When Agent Wood started to lecture me about boys and the birds and the bees, I had to put my foot down.

  “Look guys,” I said. “I know you see me as a child, but I have been through more than you know and truth be told, I could take both of you in a fight without much effort. I am a spy for Division 57 because I am good at what I do. Do I need to take you on to prove that to you?”

  They both looked at me with wide eyes.

  “We’re supposed to work together.” I stood up. “I’ll let you know if I need advice or help.”

  “You have to see this from our perspective,” Agent Wood said. “If seasoned agents couldn’t do it, why do you think you have a chance? How old are you? Sixteen?”

  So they didn’t know how old I was after all. “First of all, it doesn’t matter how old I am. The only thing that matters is that Division believes in me. I can do this. You’ll see. And I do know what I’m doing. Have some faith.”

  Neither spoke. They only looked at me.

  I turned and left the room. Those two were really something. I wanted to scream. Before I debriefed them each day, I would let them know if I needed any advice, not only to remind them of this conversation, but also to get them thinking while I was talking.

  The next morning, I got a text from Ian. The texts for Madness always came from Ian. I let my now silent agent parents know I was heading to the mall to get stuff for the upcoming dance at school. I wasn’t sure why the Madness kids wanted me to go shopping; no one had invited me to the dance yet. I got ready anyway and met them at the big department store at one end of the mall. Pricey. None of them seemed to notice. We went to the men’s department first, and the five guys tried on several different suits. They all looked quite hot in them. We laughed a lot at some of the extreme coats and pants Camden chose.

  “Who are you going with, Mindy?” I asked.

  “No one. We all go together. Sorry, we should have told you,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling quite the relief. I didn’t want to feel any pressure to find a date, and I certainly didn’t want to run into whomever Dakota had asked. Talk about awkward. Now that I knew he hadn’t asked anyone, the trip to the mall became interesting and fun.

  After the boys had found their outfits and some of the girls had found their dresses, we headed for Chic-Fil-A to get the best chicken sandwich in the world. I couldn’t help but notice that Ian kept looking over at a table at the other end of the food court.

  Frankie and some other kids sat at the table. Their heads were close in to the center of the table like they were discussing something serious.

  Dakota knocked my arm with his and pointing toward Frankie’s table, he said, “I’m sure they’re about to either pull off a great heist or hurt a lot of people.”

  “I didn’t realize there was a group of them.”

  “Yep. They call themselves the Avengers. They avenge boredom with their acts of pure stupidity.” He shook his head as they disbanded and threw their trash away.

  Abby slapped Dakota’s arm and said, “Come with me. I’m desperate to find that perfect dress.” He looked at me, and I said, “Go! Help away.” Why was he asking my permission? I didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side in this group. No jealousy allowed.

  I watched them go, my eyes finding Frankie again. She walked into an electronics store across the way. She interested me. That stunt she pulled the other night—it was as though she was actively courting death, not just risking it in the pursuit of a good time. And now I found there was a group of them. I’d counted six. Ian grabbed my garbage and threw it away before saying, “Let’s go. I’ve got to get some new headphones. Mine cut out all the time.”

  “Alright,” I said, grabbing my bag.

  While Ian and I headed for the electronics store, the others split up, going in different directions.

  Before we even got to the headphone section, Ian got sidetracked with the games lining the walls. I watched Frankie. She also looked at the games but already had some expensive cables in her hand.

  “You ever played this?” Ian said, pointing to a game in front of him.

  “Never,” I said.

  “This one is super fun,” he said. “We can all play at one time.”

  “Cool,” I said and felt someone bump into me. I turned to see Frankie there.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “I tripped.”

  “No problem.” I smiled at her. Her alert eyes caught me off guard. She didn’t smile back; instead, she headed for the door, empty-handed. What had she done with her stuff?

  Ian moved on to the headphones, and I headed for the wireless speakers near the exit. I heard a psst. I looked in the direction of the sound. Frankie was standing just outside the entryway, her back to me.

  “Did you say something?” I asked, looking at the speakers and pretending like I wasn’t talking to her so I didn’t look like a fool when I found out she hadn’t been talking to me.

  “Come here,” she said, still looking away. “Hurry.”

  I did, why wouldn’t I? The second I passed through the security sensors, they rang out, I would have stepped back in, but I felt Frankie’s hand on my bag, and I jerked it away. “Stow something in my bag?” I asked.

  “Just give it to me, quick, and you’ll be off the hook. They’ll have no proof you took anything, and I’ll get away.” We both talked a mile a minute. Time seemed suspended somehow. I could see the manager of the electronic store looking at me, starting to move in my direction. Frankie’s eager hands were begging for the loot.

  “You’ll go to jail,” she said. “Do you want to go to jail? Just hand it over. He can’t see me from where he is. There’s a blind spot behind this wall, I’ve done this a thousand times.”

  My heart burned and pounded. I could see the manager moving in. Ten feet. Seven feet. I had to decide.

  Frankie finally turned to me, eyes wide. “You’ve lost your window. Enjoy juvie.” She started to run, and I did the dumbest thing ever, I followed.

  “Don’t follow me,” she yelled.

  “You better show me a way out or you’ll regret this,” I shot back.

  I looked over my shoulder for a split second at the electronics store. The manager was on the phone, customers and others were gawking at us, and Ian’s mouth was curved into a smile.

  “I never regret anything,” she said and sped up. I had no problem keeping up with her. Mall security was descending on us from all four spokes of the mall walkway. I had no idea how we were going to get out of this. What was I thinking? Why hadn’t I just jumped back into the store and told the manager about Frankie? Because my heart burned and I felt a voice tell me to. That was the tale-tell sign that I was doing the right thing. I pressed my arm into my side, hoping to activate my tracker and let my parents know I was in trouble.

  I was only
eight the first time I felt that feeling and recognized it for what it was. I had been swinging with my best friend on her amazing twenty-foot high wooden swing set. We each sat on a flat wooden seat. Two thick pieces of rope were knotted on the bottom of the seat that then twisted its way up into the beam above us. We pumped and pumped our legs until we’d get even with the beam holding us up and scream and yell with delight as our stomachs dropped.

  That particular day, I felt this feeling in my heart, maybe my soul, that told me to get off the swing. In truth, it was more than a feeling. A voice spoke to me to get off. The voice was accompanied by a burning in my chest like when you are so thirsty on a cold day and those first few sips seem to spread out and fill your chest with warmth.

  The third time I felt the voice, I put my feet down again and again to stop my swinging. The moment I stood, the thick, flat board of the seat broke in half. I stood there shaking. From then on, I learned to recognize and listen to the voice and feeling. The more I listened and heeded the feeling, the more often the promptings would come. I quickly discovered that the feeling didn’t only protect me from physical danger, but also emotional and moral. It even directed me for little things like answers on tests or where to find something. In the end, I discovered that if I followed the feeling, good things would happen, when I didn’t, bad things did.

  The feeling right now told me Frankie was important. I must need her for something on this mission. The manager probably wouldn’t have believed me if I’d stepped back into the store. I hoped I wouldn’t end up in juvie. She was running straight for the elevators, the stairs were all the way the other direction, and the elevator light showed it was on the first level. We were on the third.

  We would be caught.

  I was about to stop and give myself up, when Frankie jumped up on the tall handrail, took a few adept steps near the elevator and then caught hold of a pipe that went from the ceiling on the third floor all the way down to the main level. I couldn’t hesitate. I slid my jacket on, knowing it would tear my hands and arms up to slide down that pole without some protection and without losing a second, I hoisted myself over the railing, grabbed the pole, using my converse for some traction, and let my arms, wrapped tightly around the pole, slide down it.

  My feet hit hard into the tiled floor, jarring my knees, and I quickly spotted Frankie, heading for a large department store not far from where I stood. I high-tailed it in her direction and caught up with her, just as she entered the empty loading dock.

  “You still here?” she said.

  “Yep. Now get me out of here,” I said.

  “Your wish is my command,” she said, barreling through a side door that sent sirens wailing.

  “This was your exit plan?” I shouted.

  “They don’t have guards in the loading dock area after one. You’ll be fine if you’re fast. This is the fun part.”

  She ran full speed across the open parking lot. If it had been me, I would have found a car, picked the lock, and slid into the driver’s seat so that I looked like I was just leaving the mall or just arriving. I would have blended in. Not this girl, she wanted to be noticed, to be chased. I saw a police car turn into the parking lot as we ran into a nearby apartment complex. Even in the great shape I was in, I started huffing. It was all that adrenaline.

  She zigzagged through the buildings, and I heard the wail of the police siren coming our way. We got to a garbage bin, and she pulled herself up with little effort. I followed. She walked on the top of the metal sides like a tight rope walker and. once at the back of the container, she jumped over the fence and into a backyard. I did the same, but I scooted along the ledge on my butt, not my feet. From there, we walked down the street like we belonged and then climbed into a van idling on the corner. I pressed my tracker again.

  Seven pairs of eyes stared at me as the van door closed. The driver turned and took off. He had been the only one missing from the mall powwow.

  “Who’s this, Frankie?” A boy with purple hair asked.

  “A stowaway,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “What does that mean?” A platinum blonde girl asked, swearing colorfully.

  “She wanted to come along. I figured if she could keep up, I’d let her. Obviously, she kept up.” She looked at me with a sort of awe.

  “We can’t have stowaways, Frankie,” said a large, muscled boy—I realized with a bit of a start that it was Houston, the frog torturer from my science class.

  “Why not? She did Henry.” All eyes darted to me. Who was Henry? And what did I do to him?

  “No way,” the purple-haired boy said.

  “Yes way,” she said. “And she stuck the landing.”

  “You ever done that before, stowaway?” Houston asked.

  I shook my head, figuring they were talking about the pole I’d slid down. “No, but it rocked. You should have seen the looks on the cops’ faces when she jumped. What I wouldn’t have paid to have that on camera.”

  No one spoke at first, and then the purple-haired boy said, “We’ll have to see if we can arrange that.” He smiled, then said, “What’s your name?”

  “Misha.”

  “Well, Misha, welcome to the Avengers. I hope you’re tougher than you look, because we do all kinds of heart-stopping stunts.”

  They all started yelling, stomping their feet and hands and bouncing. I joined them, looking around at each face in the group, and I realized something. Sitting all around me were seven kids, each had colored their hair in some crazy color. No one had any normal colored hair. This couldn’t be the group I was looking for. Their hair color wasn’t right. Unfortunately, my gut told me otherwise. It told me this was the group I was looking for. My gut had never led me astray before. Why would it now?

  I felt my phone vibrate and pulled it out. Ian had called about ten times. I looked at my phone again and then spoke to the Avengers, “Hey Guys, any way you could drop me off at the bank across the street from the mall? My friends are picking me up there.” I’d text Ian to come get me after they dropped me off.

  “You mean Madness, right?” Frankie said. “They suck. I ran with them for a while but they wouldn’t allow me to do certain things. Stick with us. You’ve got what it takes to take it to the next level.”

  “I’ll think about that,” I said. “But first, I need to explain what just happened to them or they’ll freak out. They’re very protective.”

  “We need your cell number, then,” the platinum blonde girl, Maddie, said. I gave it to them. Maddie was the only one who put it in her phone. Did she act like their secretary or something?

  “You won’t have to worry about that with us,” the purple-headed boy said. “We let you do your own thing. I’m Duncan, by the way.”

  “We’re here, and I’m Lunden,” the driver said, pulling up to the bank. His hair was brown with streaks of green.

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, getting ready to get out. Then I remembered the stuff Frankie had put in my bag. I reached in and pulled it out, “I almost forgot, here you go.” I handed them to Frankie, and she pushed them back to me.

  “You’re the one that lifted those. They’re yours,” she said.

  I pushed them back to her. “No really, I wouldn’t know what to do with them. I give them to you.” Then I jumped from the car. “Thanks!” I’d reimburse the store for the items.

  “Rock climbing the Callahans on Monday. Join us?” Duncan said.

  “Sure,” I said, waving goodbye.

  My mind reeled. Why did I have this pull toward the group of kids that didn’t fit the profile as well as the other? Did Division know about this other group? Had they already discounted them, and I was spinning my wheels giving them a moment’s thought? I’d ask Penrod and Wood and see what they had to say. If nothing, which I believed to be the case, I would ask Jeremy. I would have to be a part of both groups until I could figure everything out. But how would I know?

  I texted Ian. He came and picked me up. “Where’s everyone?�
�� I asked, noticing he was the only one in the car.

  “I told everyone your mom picked you up. If Dakota found out you were with the Avengers on my watch, he’d kill me.”

  I let that sink in, thinking of the feeling I had running from the cops. It was pure adrenaline that pushed me to jump to that pole—Henry, they called it. Flying from that railing was so scary, yet completely thrilling.

  “What were you thinking?” he said. “You can’t hang with them if Dakota is anywhere near. If you must do some truly death defying things, do it on the down-low and make sure he never finds out. I didn’t peg you for a true adrenaline junkie. You look too sweet. You lack the edge those Avengers have.”

  Why was he giving me hints about how to do things with the Avengers? Why hadn’t he told me to stay away from them like Dakota? It struck me as odd. “Are you saying that because I don’t have a wild color of hair?”

  “No. I’m usually good at assessing personalities. I always make dinner for prospective Madness members and can tell who would fit and who wouldn’t. You didn’t give me the vibe of someone turning to the dark side of thrill seeking.”

  “Dark side?” I turned the stud in my ear.

  “Those kids have a death wish. They don’t seem to be able to see the difference between what gives you a rush and what kills. They like the stuff that kills, maims, or gets them arrested. Is that what you want? You want to end up in jail or dead?”

  It was like he really wanted to know. He seemed to be measuring me, seeing if I’d fit with the Avengers. A few things struck me at that moment. He had been staring at the Avengers in the courtyard at the mall and then, right after Frankie went into the electronics store, he had taken me there. He’d said he wanted new earphones, but then he’d gone to the video section where Frankie had been. It wasn’t until Frankie left that he went for the earphones. Had he set me up? Was he testing me to see if I had what it took to be a part of the Avengers? Could he be the recruiter for that group, too? My mind debated for a quick second before answering him. How should I play this? If Ian is the recruiter for the Avengers, did this mean he was also the recruiter for the kidnappers? If he was, did they want the group of kids that felt the rush, but were mostly smart about it, or did they want the kids that held no regard for themselves and only sought the biggest rush? Did the kidnappers want hard-core or soft-core adrenaline junkies?