The Rogue Agent

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The Rogue Agent Page 11

by Shiloh White


  “Going where?” I asked. Dart kept his eyes on Scott, and answered, saying “De Mentoria, for your Handle and the agent. Not a good idea.”

  “Why are you against it?” Scott asked. Dart shook his head and walked over to the door and leaned on it. “Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good amount of acting against authority. But Hollister has a lot on her plate to deal with this time, without your rash decisions.”

  “You don't get it, Dart. My two strikes of insubordination mean nothing compared to making sure Lucy survives in her Zones.” he said, shooting a quick glance at me. Then he looked back at Dart. “For that, she'll need the Handle.”

  “It's ill-advised, Scott. There's too much at risk here.” Dart answered. “Too much at risk? The only things at risk here are my sister and me” I interrupted. That shut both of them up. “Also, the paints did help. They kept me out of a car accident, and they'll probably get me out of Lieutenant Hollister's hair faster.” I didn't want to spend any more time even remotely near her hair than I had already. More importantly, I wanted to hurry up and save Chloe. I wasn't sure exactly how much time she had left. Dart had said two days, but I hadn't seen any clocks since I arrived at the Depression Force. Who knew how much time she had left now? Not to mention, what Justin said continued to swim around in my mind. Something about a bigger plan didn't make me feel secure at all. I wanted to defend myself. “I'm with Scott's plan.” I decided, looking back at Scott. He seemed a little relieved. Dart, on the other hand, started pacing the room and thinking out loud. “Hollister in the Deck...De Mentoria...” he muttered to himself.

  “What's your verdict, Dart? Are you gonna rat me out?” Scott asked.

  “No,” Dart said, sounding defeated. “But listen; the subway track is constantly monitored by the Depression Force. So I'll have to get you guys there personally, which means you'll need to follow every instruction I'm going to give you.”

  He started to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway. I wondered if the doorway had any significance, or if people from the Depression Force just found themselves doing it. Dart pointed a finger at both of us.

  “I don't want Hollister getting even more upset so...” He looked off into the distance at an invisible wait for me at the entrance to the subway. I'll set things up for you guys from the Deck.”

  Scott walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks. That makes things much easier.”

  “Whatever,” Dart shrugged the hand off his shoulder, looking annoyed. “You guys owe me one.”

  ✽✽✽

  Once we arrived, we didn't wait long for Dart.

  A majority of the time was spent just getting there, walking all of the twists and turns and hallways on the way. I was glad Scott was leading. He didn't hesitate on where to turn next. I couldn't understand how they didn't get lost in here. The place was so big, every time we reached what I thought was an outer wall, there was a door leading to the next hallway. If I had to navigate, I'd probably manage to find every room but the one I needed to get to.

  By the time we stopped at a door that I assumed was our destination, Dart was coming down the opposite side of the hallway with a pile of black underneath his arm. He handed it to me and said it was from Officer Halsey. “She's roughly your size.” Dart said with a decisive nod. I untangled the pile and found a pair of black jeans and a black hoodie. Then I looked back up at Dart, both confused and thankful. “It gets cold out there.” he said, and pointed down the hallway. “There's a bathroom two doors down and to the right. You can change there.”

  “Thanks,” I told him, and went to change.

  I pushed open the bathroom door, and found an empty stall to change.

  Really I just tossed it on over my gym clothes. Where else was I going to put them? After I put the hoodie on, I realized it said the letters “DFHQ” on it in red and gold letters with a gray streak through the middle. The Depression Force has a logo, I chuckled. I wondered if they had any rivaling mental health organizations

  Walking back, I watched Dart hand Scott a slip of paper. Scott took it and nodded. He looked down the hallway and me, and waved his hand at me to hurry. “Let's get this show on the road, Hale!” he said. I jogged over to join them, slipping my hands in the warm hoodie pocket. I made a silent note to thank Halsey as soon as I saw her again. And I definitely owed Dart more than one now. But would he really keep count?

  “Once you're done in the Square, head to the train on the far right of the station. That'll take you to De Mentoria.” Dart said as he pulled open the door to the subway, which ironically looked like the entrance to a normal basement. The door looked heavy and old and it opened up to a flight of stairs down into a dimly lit room. And there was a strange, musty smell wafting from inside. Everything your typical basement needs.

  “Be careful out there, you guys,” Dart stressed, “and remember the Lieutenant only gave you two hours.”

  “Thanks, Dart, but don't stress.” Scott put a hand on Dart's shoulder. “We'll be back with what we need in no time.” Dart smiled at him, and Scott let go of his shoulder and started down the stairs.

  I was about to follow, but Dart grabbed my arm.

  “Hey. Keep an eye on him, will you?” he asked in a small voice.

  “Huh?” He must have been joking. I turned around so I could see his face, but he looked serious. “Why?” I asked.

  “He's my friend. You know what that's like, right? Keeping' an eye out for your friends?” he asked. I nodded slowly, wondering what I was getting into. Dart was coming across a little more intensely than I'd seen him so far. It caught me a little off guard.

  “Hey, Hale, are you coming?” Scott's voice echoed up from the staircase. I looked back at Dart. He stared me in the eyes, waiting for an answer.

  “Yeah, I'll do my best.” I said. I didn't know what keeping an eye on Scott would mean, but I knew I did owe Dart.

  “Thanks,” he said, letting go of my arm. “Now get down there. You're running out of time.”

  ✽✽✽

  We walked for what felt like a lot longer than it would take to get to a basement.

  Besides the stairs underneath my feet, I saw nothing except the occasional dim light fixture hanging from somewhere up in the darkness. Finally, when I thought there was really no subway and I was going crazy, the stairs ended. It opened up into a long tunnel, with a smaller tunnel just in front of us. It was like looking at the outside of a cylinder made of brick. It stretched as far as the lights let me see in either direction. Scott walked up to the nearest door that was built into the wall of the corridor, and pushed it open.

  Inside, we followed a blue light down the inside of the corridor for a while until it went through another door, leading us to an inner area, and the subway tunnel, complete with train and open doors. Once I saw the windows, I understood what Dart was saying about the cold. Most of the windows were cracked with pieces missing. A few windows were removed altogether. It was like they hadn't been maintained since the day the train was built. At that moment, I was thankful for the long sleeves and pants instead of gym shorts.

  We boarded the train, and I found the other people. Well, other Depression Officers and individuals I didn't recognize. They must have all done their security checks much earlier. It made me wonder if people who rode the subway were scare, or if it was just a slow day. I decided to keep my space nonetheless, and searched out a seat in the back of the train surrounded by other empty seats. Scott sat down across from me. Perfect. Except now that we were on the train, I could feel myself tensing up. My foot wouldn't quit bouncing. I was being confined with these people, and it made me uncomfortable because I didn't know who they were or what they might do. Normally, I would just pull out my paints and ignore everyone—a couple times, I found myself stopping my right hand from instinctively reaching over where my bag would be—but I couldn't even do that right now. So I shut out most everyone else by trying to talk to who I was stuck with.

  “So what is the Square?” I ask
ed Scott. He was looking at the front of the subway car; his eyes fixed on most everyone in front of us. He probably didn't trust any of them either. More importantly, however, I don't think he heard me. “What exactly is the Square?” I asked, poking him on the knee.

  “Hmm?” he looked up at me, a little surprise in his eyes. “The Square?” he echoed my question, looking down at the ground in thought. “Well, it's like a central hub for the Dust.” he decided, looking back up at me.

  “Central hub?” I asked. Scott elaborated, saying, “You can find a lot of different supplies and wares, and meet lots of people out there.”

  “People?” I asked in a higher voice, “There are actually people out here, besides the Depression Agents and you guys?”

  “A few.” Scott said. “They decided they weren't cut out for Depression Force work, and wanted to make a small place for themselves here. They make up a small portion of the Square.”

  I couldn't understand why anyone would devote their life to stay in a place surrounded by negativity. Not to mention the sky was gray, all the time. Not exactly where I would put my dream home. The Square didn't sound like too bad of an alternative.

  “The majority of the Square, however,” he continued, “they're either Depression Agents, former Agents, or somewhere in the middle. Makes for a good source of information.”

  “Like information on finding a certain Depression Agent?” I pushed. I avoided his gaze as I waited for his response. I wasn't even sure why I wanted to know.

  “You don't need to worry about that,” Scott assured me. “We've got that under control.” he said in a distant voice that told me that was all he planned to say about that. But I didn't care. I pointed to him and said, “Don't leave me out of the loop if there's another threat to me or to Chloe around here—”

  SCHREECH!!!

  The subway car lurched forward and we were moving. It shook our seats. I grabbed the armrest, almost falling out of mine. Scott straightened himself in his chair and looked at me. I was staring at him with a look that said I still expect an answer. He leaned forward in his seat and said in a small voice, “That information is confidential.” I looked at him like he was joking, considering what I just told him. But he looked dead serious. I forced the silly look off my face and nodded, miming zipping my lips shut. I wanted to know this...for Chloe, of course.

  Scott let out a deep breath, a worried look on his face as he thought for a moment. I occupied myself with the grayness out the window. It hardly looked like we were moving since everything looked the same. At one point, I thought I saw four super dark blobs floating out there, but the subway car jolted again and I couldn't make out any of the dark blobs from the grayness anymore.

  “Okay.” Scott finally decided.

  “But,” he pointed a finger at me, drawing my attention away from the window, “Lieutenant Hollister can't know that I'm sharing this with you.” I figured if I said anything, I'd probably screw it up, so I just nodded again. Scott sat back in his chair, a little relieved. “He broke out six months ago,” said Scott. “Abandoned his zone completely. Then he started to terrorize other Depression Zones, as well as causing havoc all around the Dust.”

  “So you guys are trying to catch this guy for that?” I asked. “Isn't he technically helping?”

  Scott shook his head. “Actually, it was quite the opposite, you see.” he said. I stared at him with a confused look on my face, and said, “Actually, I don't see.”

  “How would you like it if instead of one voice giving you negative thoughts, there were two? Fighting for control of your head and driving you crazy in this process.”

  “Let's not mention driving for a little while.” I said, starting to feel a little queasy. An inquisitive look started to grow on Scott's face; he squinted his eyes, and raised his right eyebrow. I didn't feel like explaining again, so I kept the ball rolling. “Anyway, I understand. Opposite of helpful. Please continue.”

  “We've been tracking him since then, but every lead's come up empty.” he said. “Or at least, every lead until a trip I may or may not have taken to the Square to shake up a source.” The impatient look wilted off his face and was replaced by a small smile. I tried to look as if I was listening to every word, but I was a little distracted. They may have fought depression, but the Depression Force was beginning to sound a little like the real world police. Not always the best people to find yourself around.

  “Dart said they'd be helpful, and they were.” Scott continued. “We found out exactly where the rogue Agent would be at a very specific time.”

  “Earlier today.” I said, connecting the dots. “That's what Dart and The Lieutenant were up to when we got to the Observation Deck—”

  SCREECH!!!

  The subway car lurched forward again. This time, I heard the sound and grabbed my armrests so I didn't fall. But unless I was mistaken, there was nothing out there. The subway train must have been crazy old. And this time, it felt like the train was going slower than before.

  “You were right. That's what they were up to.” Scott continued. “We almost had him, too.” His gaze shifted to the ground.

  “What exactly happened to let him get away?” I asked, and instantly regretted it. I bit my lip and waited for Scott to say something.

  “Lieutenant Hollister would flip out if she found out how much you knew already,” Scott said, “and it's nothing you need to worry about.” Lieutenant Hollister again. Why did her name have such a negative reputation to go along with it? I understood she was the one in charge, but some of her choices so far rubbed me the wrong way.

  “Why is she wound so tight?” I asked Scott. He waved his hand at me to dismiss the question, and said, “The Lieutenant's hard on everyone. Don't let it get to you.”

  “That's not what I mean—” I paused. I knew I was pushing harder now, and it wasn't my business to know. But the more I thought about it, the more it made me upset that I didn't understand. “Why was she so against finding a weapon that would help us?” I asked. Scott looked at me with tired eyebrows raised. “It really isn't a great reason.” he said. I figured he was trying to convince me to back off the topic. “What reason is that?” I asked.

  “She hasn't had a Handle of her own since she became the acting chief of the Depression Force.” Scott continued. “She calls it a weakness.”

  I wanted to say, “Minutes ago, that weakness just saved my life.” I'm sure it was useful to the other Officers. I wanted to know how someone in charge could make a decision for another person not to be equipped with one. It just sounded selfish to me, and I was about to say that to Scott, but I remembered something my mom told me about speaking out against things I didn't know enough of. And if I was being completely honest with myself, I knew there was more going on with The Lieutenant than what was being said.

  “So,” I started to say, “What would Lieutenant Hollister do if she found out about this plan?”

  Scott shrugged his shoulders and said, “Probably take me off field duty.”

  “That sounds...backwards.” I decided. Scott nodded in agreement, something of a sad look on his face. “Well, It's worth stopping your Depression, Lucy.” he said. For a moment, I thought I saw something different in his eyes. Something familiar; something I hadn't seen in a long time. Then the subway car lurched forward again with that loud SCREECH!!!

  It halted to a complete stop. Scott looked away and stood up quickly. “Follow me, and stay close. We've arrived at the Square.”

  15. Brace Yourselves…The Square Isn’t Shaped Like A Square.

  So, between you and me, I may have taken “Follow me, and stay close” a little too literally. I must have bumped into Scott more times than the subway train lurched on the way here. But if it were your first time in the Square, I'm sure you would have done the same.

  Cramped clumps of people fought other cramped clumps of people to exit the subway. The outside looked less like a long corridor with TSA clearances and more like a normal subway terminal. I
nstead of a long staircase, there was a wide flight of steps like the exit to a regular subway station.

  “It's different from the Depression Force's.” I noted to Scott.

  “We need the security,” Scott explained, “but this place?” He shrugged and shook his head. “Forget about it. It's like a giant farmer's market.” He kept walking up the stairs, and I saw a bunch of glowing fluorescent lights peeking over the stairs. Scott stopped for a moment and turned around.

  “Trying to find one person in here is practically impossible unless you know where to look,” he added, “so it's important that we stick together.”

  I nodded in agreement. All these people were making me cringe anyway. I shoved my hands into the hoodie pocket and followed Scott up the rest of the stairs where I realized I was lied to.

  Giant farmer's market was a huge understatement. Unless you were referring to an underground farmer's market the size of Texas.

  The staircase let out into a huge open underground area, where tons of tents and booths and vendors littered dirt walkways. I noticed the lights hung from way up in the darkness, and cast dim glows of green, orange, white, and a few other colors all over the place. Trying to keep up with Scott, I followed the path and noticed there were alleyways (can you have alleyways at a farmer's market?) at every turn, branching off into a smaller paths or other vendors. It seemed like a misnomer to call it the Square. But none of this was as crazy as the amount of people. All types of people littered the area; young people, old people. There were even full-on families walking around with little children in tow. I couldn't take a step forward without bumping into at least three other bodies.

  I wasn't sure whether defeating my Depression Zone kept me from having a panic attack, or if my anxiety was being overloaded to the max and couldn't decide how to go about giving me one. Either way, I thought I was in the clear until I walked past a lady that I could've sworn looked just like my gym teacher, Mrs. Trap.

 

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