Adrenaline Rush

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “And you don’t?” I didn’t like people to question Jeremy.

  They exchanged a glance.

  “We think he’s barking up the wrong tree,” Agent Wood said. “We were in California looking up birth certificates.”

  “What?”

  “Dakota was not born in California.”

  Before I could protest, Agent Penrod said, “He’s the one, we know it.”

  “You two don’t know anything. He couldn’t be it.”

  “You can’t let your hormones get in the way of this mission. We are not going to fail simply because you choose not to see the truth through your sex-crazed teen haze.” Agent Wood scowled at me.

  I had to resist the urge to stomp away. I balled my fists instead and held my ground. “If I was letting my feelings for Dakota get in the way, I wouldn’t have been spending the last week distancing myself from him now would I? I want to complete this mission just as much as you do. In fact, I will complete it and you’ll see, the kidnappers will not be taking Madness. It’s the Avengers they are targeting. I just know it.”

  “We’ve been tracking Dakota, Christy, and he disappears for long periods of time.” Agent Penrod raised her eyebrows at me.

  “He’s been at school every day, you guys, what are you talking about?”

  “Where was he, for example, the afternoon you guys watched your play, Tristan and Isolde? He arrived an hour late and we’d been unable to track him since school let out.” Agent Woods blurted. He had such a mean tone to his voice.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head.

  “We don’t know either. Ian, on the other hand, has been completely traceable.”

  “You need to listen to reason.” Agent Penrod said.

  “Jeremy is with his informant right now. He’s been doing some other checking on Dakota and Ian. What do you bet he’ll come back telling us it is Dakota?” Agent Wood smirked.

  My head was swimming. Dakota was no kidnapper. He was too kind, too attentive, too raw. “I guess we’ll just have to wait to hear his report, now won’t we?”

  We stared at each other.

  “Believe me, you guys, I want to succeed more than anything, but I need you two to believe in me. My age truly has nothing to do with my ability. I can do this. Please, trust me.”

  “It’s our job to keep you safe and be your support on this mission. Inherent in that charge is to watch for danger and misdirection. We feel you are going down the wrong path, and we are facing you, adult to adult, and telling you that you are going down the wrong path.” Agent Penrod looked at me like I was her own teen daughter, and she desperately wanted to keep me from making a bad decision.

  I pressed my lips together. I knew they were wrong, but my intuition wasn’t going to cut it with these guys. How could I make them understand what I knew in my gut?

  “Would you at least humor us until Jeremy gets back? We’d really like you to go hang out with Madness tonight.” Agent Penrod was at least trying to be nice.

  I huffed.

  “It’s not like you have anything else to do.” Agent Wood sneered.

  I took in a deep breath, holding my tongue. I could be mature about that. I could humor them until Jeremy got back. What would it hurt? “Alright, but you guys owe me a steak dinner at a super nice restaurant when he comes back saying Dakota is in the clear.”

  “Sounds good,” Agent Penrod said, smiling, eager to have me on board.

  Agent Wood rolled his eyes.

  “What about my tracker?”

  “We’ll do it in the morning. Now, go. You’re going to miss them.” Agent Wood’s voice was hard. “You’ll need tennis shoes. They’re long boarding tonight.”

  I nodded and left to get shoes on. I wasn’t scared about not having a perfectly functional tracker, because I knew it wasn’t Madness the kidnappers wanted. It was the Avengers.

  I pulled up to Camden’s house and put my head on the steering wheel. I’d told Dakota I didn’t feel up to long boarding tonight. I really needed space from him. My agent parents had been right about my budding feelings for Dakota. It was hard to resist a guy like him. If I wasn’t on a mission and just a normal girl, I’d have fallen hard and fast. I’d never admit that to Penrod and Wood, though. I did need to get my hormones in check.

  Someone knocked on my window and startled me. Jensyn. Right behind her, Tarran and Mindy came flouncing up, followed by Troy, Tate, and Dakota. I couldn’t stop the stutter in my chest at seeing him.

  While we took turns driving, two of us would hold onto the car bumper and ride our longboards. While it was dangerous, I couldn’t help think that if the Avengers were to do the same activity, they would have secretly grabbed a hold of cars at stop signs or lights instead of having the controlled environment Madness had created. Which did I like better? Only weeks ago, my answer would have been different for sure.

  Dakota’s warm arms around me reassured me that he was good. As I drove home, I tried to imagine him as the kidnapper or the recruiter, and I couldn’t make it fit no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t wait to get word from Jeremy that he was completely cleared. My mind would not settle the whole way home.

  I was emotionally and physically exhausted as my head hit the pillow. I would report to Wood and Penrod in the morning.

  I woke late and scrambled to get ready for the day. My head throbbed. I grabbed all the things I needed for school and the rock climb with the Avengers and stuffed them into my backpack and a duffle bag. I grabbed a protein bar and a bottled juice on my way out the door. I called out, “See ya, guys,” as I went out the door.

  As I pulled down the drive, Agent Penrod ran out the front door. I stopped and rolled the window down. “We need to put that new tracker in your arm.”

  “Shoot. I’m already late. How long will it take?”

  “A good twenty minutes.”

  I sighed. “How about we do it at lunch, then.”

  “I guess that will work.”

  I smiled and pushed the button to roll the window up but remembered the lip balm Jeremy had given me and told me to keep with me at all times. Would it matter if I didn’t have it since my tracker wasn’t working? I let go of the button and called out to Penrod, but she’d just shut the front door.

  I didn’t dare drive away without it. I put the car in park and ran up the walk. After snagging the lip balm, I headed for the front door. Hearing Agent Wood say my name, I paused and moved silently, toward the voice. I waited, just outside the kitchen door, listening to the conversation. It was ridiculous that I had to sneak to get the truth out of them.

  “I’m totally worried she’s going to get hurt in all this.” She sighed loudly.

  “You’re worried about her? You need to be worried about us and what will happen when she blows this because she’s wrong about this whole thing and won’t listen. She’s acting like a spoiled child.”

  What was I wrong about? Maybe Dakota was the recruiter and Ian knew nothing about it. Could Madness be the real target? Was I being pigheaded? What had the fax said? Did it say something that proved Madness was the target? No. Wood would have rubbed it in my face if he had anything else that was concrete. I did want to see that fax, though. When I came home after school, I’d check the fax and adjust accordingly. If I didn’t have to go rock climbing, I wouldn’t. Even though I’d tried to dissuade Dakota, he was still hot on my trail and it would be easy to fall right back in with him. I was flexible. After all, I was a spy.

  “If nothing else, this will teach her not to be so brash and maybe even humble her a bit so she can learn something from the masters.” Agent Wood chuckled.

  “They should have had a seasoned agent who looks young do this. She’s just a child. It’s just too important. Since they didn’t, we need to help her, but not the way you’ve been going about it. You’re pushing her away. We need her to trust us.”

  “You heard Agent McGinnis on the plane. She is a full agent and must be treated like one.”

  I heard mo
vement and slipped quickly back out the door and into the car. I drove slowly down the driveway, hoping they wouldn’t hear. When I was alone with my thoughts, my eyes burned with tears, and I questioned my involvement. If I couldn’t even force them to show me what they were hiding or show them how great of an agent I was, what was I doing here? I was a chicken, through and through. I shouldn’t be on this mission. They were right.

  A few minutes later, I was mad again. Why did I let them get to me? I was determined to show them up. I was not arrogant and unteachable. I would have to get into that office and read that fax before the climb.

  I would take a look at the fax at lunch when I got the new tracker inserted.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance. Frankie got me right after third period, before lunch, and had me head out to the parking lot with my climbing gear. We drove straight there.

  I pressed on my tracker and just in case the tracker hadn’t transmitted, I texted Agent Penrod to tell her I was on my way to the climb. They wouldn’t like it, but they’d have to hurry to catch up to us.

  Five of the eight of us free soloed, without the aid of ropes, but not me. I admitted I wasn’t experienced, so they hooked me up. Lunden would free climb after both Anna and I made it to the top. Anna was the newest member to the group besides me. She had long, blue, full hair. All her features were small: small nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. She reminded me of a long-haired mouse. She even had a high-pitched voice that sometimes put my teeth on edge, but I was happy to follow her up the cliff.

  Once near the top, I lost my grip and called out for Anna to give me a hand. She must not have heard me because she never came. I slipped, but the rope caught me thanks to Lunden, who was about two-hundred feet below me, belaying.

  He hollered up, “You okay?”

  I hung there and called down, “Fine. I lost my grip.” I worked hard, grunting to get vertical enough to get a handhold. Where was Anna? I called to her but got no response. I was on my own. I finally found a crevice I could slide my hand in. Then I swung my leg to the wall and searched for the right foothold. I only found one, but it was a good one. I pushed up hard, and one hand was able to grab the top of the cliff. I put my other foot where my hand had been and pushed up, flopping onto the top of the mountain with a thud. I rolled over onto my back, panting and cursing Anna. Not only Anna, the others, too. Those free-soloing had passed us up in a hurry. Then I heard Lunden call out, and I remembered I needed to unhook him in order for him to be able to free-solo the rest of the way up.

  “Unhooking now,” I yelled down.

  “Unhooking now,” he yelled up, following rock-climbing protocol. I pulled on the rope until I had it all at the top. I looked over the edge and saw him climbing fast.

  I rolled over onto my back trying to rid myself of angry feelings before I went to find the rest of the crew. A puff of something foul blew into my face right as I tried to stand. I saw two pairs of hands grab my arms. It was the last thing I remembered.

  When I woke up, I was in a large helicopter, tied up and gagged next to a knocked out Lunden. I had a raging headache, and the air smelled of antiseptic. The other six of our group were awake, but in the same situation I was: gagged and bound. We had been kidnapped. I’d chosen the right group. There was no going back now.

  My mission had truly begun. I shoved my arm hard into my side to activate the tracker again, praying it would activate. I chided myself for not getting it replaced this morning. How could I have been so dumb? Then I remembered that my agent parents had planned on following me. They probably had a lock on our position already. They had probably witnessed me getting kidnapped. I could feel the chapstick digging into my leg, but I couldn’t get to it, so I pushed and pushed my arm into my side, hoping it would transmit one of the times I pressed it.

  I tried to free my hands, but they were bound tightly with hard plastic bands. My feet were bound too. Two guards sat nearby, watching us. My arm felt sore. It hadn’t felt that way since the day after they’d implanted the tracker. Maybe it had to do with the defect in the tracker. I tried to get a look at it, but couldn’t. It was comforting, nonetheless, to know that either way Division had a trace on me; my agent parents had seen me get kidnapped and were keeping track of me, and Jeremy was most likely tracking me somehow, too.

  I had no idea how long I’d been out. I looked around at the Avengers. Their faces showed shock and disbelief. It surprised me how calm I felt. I guess knowing this was all part of the plan made me a bit numb to the horror of it all. I wished I could tell the other Avengers that someone was watching out for all of us, that we had a connection on the other side.

  I’d been in a helicopter like this before, in Spain. It had been a military helicopter. This couldn’t be a military helicopter, could it? I tried to see out, to watch for landmarks to help me know where I was, but I couldn’t: there were no windows low enough for me to look out. I shifted, trying to take the pressure off my backside. It was a long flight.

  Finally, the helicopter touched down, and the force of the landing slammed our bound bodies into each other. Before we had a chance to even try to untangle ourselves, our captors rushed into the hold. They swiftly cut our feet restraints and pushed us out of the chopper while the blades were still turning, the wind beating us around. They led us through a door and down several flights of stairs.

  We were met by a row of girls and boys in black uniforms with crazy colored hair: blue, green, magenta, orange, turquoise, pink, a weird brown, and a reddish black. They stood at attention until a tall, large man in white with natural-looking brown hair said, “At ease.” Then they assumed a relaxed posture. The first boy in the row, who couldn’t have been older than twenty, called out Houston’s name.

  “Follow me,” he barked.

  Were they creating some kind of youth army here? Houston looked at all of us and then followed orders. I bet he was aching to wrestle the boy to the floor. Each person in black called out another name from our group, and they disappeared down the hallway to our right. I was the second to last to be called. The girl who called my name had reddish black, shoulder length hair that was straight as a board. Her face was kind. Her lips turned up naturally in the corners.

  She led me into a room that looked like a small dorm, with a twin bed, perfectly made, a desk, a lamp, and a small rug on the tile floor. Not much more would fit.

  “Where am I? Who are you?” I stared hard at her.

  She opened a door to my left, giving no response. It was a closet. She pulled out a bright yellow jumpsuit. She cut my plastic wristbands and then said, “Please dress yourself.” She turned to the side slightly so that she wasn’t looking at me straight on as I undressed. I slipped the lip balm into my hand as I took off my shorts. I snuck a quick peek at my arm. What was going on? It was red and inflamed.

  If I’d have wanted to, I could have easily taken her right then, but I could still find more information for Division while I waited for them to come get us. I found a white shift inside the jumpsuit when I unzipped it. I slid that on first and then put the jumpsuit on, slipping the lip balm under the bed Houdini style. After I zipped the jumpsuit up, the girl turned to me and said, “Does it feel like it fits? It looks like it does.” Her voice was friendly, not commanding.

  “Yes,” I said, rubbing my hands down my front and thighs.

  She didn’t speak to me after that until her pager or watch or something vibrated. She brought me into the hall at that point. The man in white had us line up in the same order we were called when we arrived and then marched us into a room that looked like a hair salon. It was non-threatening enough. Were we going to get a makeover?

  We each stood in front of a salon chair with our guides. Two men in colorful scrubs walked up to Houston and started putting something around his neck. Houston threw a punch that was swiftly and easily blocked by one of the men. The other man grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Houston called out, obviously in pain.

  Several in the gro
up looked away, the rest stared on with morbid curiosity. The one that had blocked the punch put a thin metal collar on Houston that buzzed when hooked together. This was not good. It must be what they would use to control us. Each of us got a collar, and no one else put up a fight.

  The men in white had us sit in the cushiony salon chairs next to us. Our guides wrapped a smock around each of us and the sound of hair clippers filled the air.

  “No way!” Duncan screamed out and Frankie, sitting next to me, kicked the girl who was about to cut her hair and yelled, “You can’t do that.”

  The moment their words were out, screams of agony filled the air. Both grabbed at their necks as their screams turned to gurgling sounds like they were choking. Out of pure instinct, I took a step toward them and cried out, but my guide put her hand on my arm, her thin fingers pressing hard into my arm, holding me in place, and shook her head almost imperceptibly. Was she protecting me? The looks on the faces of the other five Avengers were of pure terror. Both Maddie and Anna touched the wires at their necks, eyes wide.

  The choking sounds stopped, replaced by shocked heaving breaths as Duncan and Frankie leaned over their knees and gulped air. Their guides firmly pushed them into upright positions and then into the chairs. Frankie’s face was white, Duncan’s more of a pale green, and neither fought as their hair was sheared from their heads.

  In the end, the boys’ hair had been cut to about a quarter inch and the girls’ to about half an inch. I’d have to go back to spiking it, and I’d just grown it out how I liked it. Both Anna’s and Maddie’s faces were streaked with tears. They were losing their beautiful, long locks. Maybe I should give the signal to come and get us. Nothing good could be going on here and Division could figure out what it was all about after saving us. Really, all they needed to know was the location of this place. I pushed my arm hard into my ribs, twice, ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. Since it wasn’t working consistently, I would do it as many times as I could. My arm ached from the pressure. Something was definitely wrong with my tracker. Hopefully, Jeremy and the crew would be on their way soon. This had to stop.