by Shiloh White
“Consider it my end of the deal,” he said matter-of-factly, placing the bag back on his table, and handing me the paintbrush. I hesitated to take it. “What's my end?” I asked slowly, my lip still bleeding and in pain.
“I don't want to see you back in my club, Lucy,” Damian said, giving me an ominous feeling. Then he smiled and said, “You are underage, after all.” I didn't realize it at first, but his demeanor changed again. He was just as cheerful as earlier.
I nodded, to show I agreed to the deal. Then I took the paintbrush and shoved it in my jacket pocket, getting up from the chair. I didn't want to be near Damian a second longer, let alone his club.
A crash came from outside that I was pretty certain wasn't part of the music, and the guard asked, “Sir, the Officer?”
“Why haven't you done your job yet?” Damian asked, with that same creepy—err, I mean, cheerful tone in his voice. “Go get the Officer out of the club. And escort Lucy here out.” Damian said, waving me towards the door. I kept a hand in my pocket on the paintbrush, and turned around to open the door.
I didn't look back at Damian as the door to his office shut behind me. I was too spooked about what just happened... and the word he mouthed. I never said it out loud...
So how did that man know my sister's name?
20. I Reconnect With An Old Friend (And Try To Connect My Fist With His Face)
The big guy put his hand on my shoulder and ushered me away from Damian, and through the room of dancing people. Everyone tried to push me around into their dancing, but once they noticed the dude behind me, they got the memo. They kept dancing, but they eased out of our way.
Apparently, one guy didn't get the memo. He had his head down in a dark colored hood, half-dancing, half-walking in my direction. He bumped into me hard, his arm colliding with my stomach. If I didn't see it coming, I might have thought he came to knock me out or something. At the very least, I would've been knocked over if the guy behind me wasn't holding me up. I did my best to shake it off and keep moving, but that must not have been enough for the big guy. He grabbed the dude by the arm and shoved him over into the dance floor, where he disappeared into a group of party-goers.
I kept my eyes peeled for Scott as we got closer to the hallway entrance, but all I saw at the bar was a bunch of people hollering and yelling at one another, and two bouncers trying to separate people. With the light show goin' on too, I couldn't see who was who, let alone if one of them was Scott.
The big guy behind me pushed me around the corner, and the bar disappeared from my vision. We made the quick trek down the hallway, and he gave me another strong push out the front door.
“Where's the Officer who caused a ruckus?” I asked him. As if on cue, the man took a step back and the bouncer who was watching the entrance earlier threw Scott out the front door. I scrambled to my feet and tried to catch him. He actually wasn't too much bigger than I was, so I thought I had a chance. But he came at me too fast, and shoved me back so we both fell into the street. Then the two guys slammed the doors behind them, and all I could hear sitting in the street was the music bumping from inside.
“Thanks for nothing!” Scott yelled at the building, and stormed off down the street the way we came.
“Scott!” I called out after him. He didn't even flinch. He kept walking and muttering to himself rather loudly, saying, “I was this close. I almost found something out!”
He pulled a little touch-screen machine out of his back pocket and began typing into it. I stood up off the street and ran over to him, grabbing his shoulder. “Hey—” I started to say, turning him around to face me. I stopped for a second when I saw his face; red, like he'd done nothing but yell all day. I shook off the initial surprise. Not important.
“Why did you run off from the alley?” I asked him, looking at him dead in the face. He looked down at his touch screen; up at the night sky; anywhere but at me.
“Did you forget about me?” I demanded, poking him in the chest. “I had to deal with a real psycho in there, you know. I could have used help!” I shoved him on help. I didn't mean to, but I was getting worked up. He staggered back a step, and said nothing. It was silent for a minute, and the whole street was empty. I could feel the light breeze blowing past me. For a second, I wanted to believe none of it mattered. But it did.
“You won't believe me. Not this.” Scott said, shaking his head at me.
“After what I've been through?” I scoffed at him. “It better be worth running off for.” But something in Scott's face looked serious—the look of sadness and regret I saw at Mr. Reggie’s restaurant.
“I saw your brother...I saw Lucas.”
✽✽✽
I stared at Scott, blood roaring in my ears. Then I snapped, my body acting before my brain could even process what to feel.
I threw my fist at him, but he caught it. I tried to pull it free, but he held tight.
“He's gone!” I shouted at him. “Lucas is not here. This place plays tricks!”
“I know—”
“You don't even know him!” I cut him off. Who did he think he was? “You have no idea who Lucas was!” They were the only words I could find.
“I did know him!” Scott said angrily, squeezing my fist hard.
“I have every memory of Lucas losing his life; I was right there!”
I gasped. Something clicked inside my head, and I realized why Scott had looked familiar in the first place: the sad look in his eyes.
I'd seen it before.
“But, you wouldn't remember.” he continued, before I could get a word in. “I suppose it felt like you were the only one who went through it, with therapy and treatment.” I thought about that vision; little me and my dad in the therapist’s office...but there was more to that.
“They said they were building a wall from the memories of my brother's death. I couldn't even remember you—” I tried to explain, but Scott cut me off, letting go of my arm.
“We've all gone through it, Lucy.”
“I didn't ask for any of that!”
“You think I did? What about your brother?” Scott asked, his voice getting louder. “You think he wanted to—” he stopped talking and started coughing violently, dropping the little gadget in his hand.
“Scott?” I asked, taking a step toward him.
He doubled over and threw up on the side of the street, clutching his sides.
“Scott, are you okay?” I reached out to try to help him as he staggered back and forth, but his body went limp and fell backwards into the street. I knelt down, and his eyes were closed. “Scott!” I yelled, trying to shake him awake. No luck. He was unconscious.
I looked back down the street at the Club Insanis. Going back in there wasn't an option. But staying out here wasn't either. We needed to get back to the Depression Force.
“GRAH!” With a grunt, I rolled him flat on his back. Then I dragged him over to a street light and propped him up so he was sitting. I was about to try to ease him onto my back—and try not to crumble under his weight—when Scott's machine started to vibrate against the ground. I reached over and picked it up. At the top of the screen it read: “DIRECTIONS TO DE MENTORIA SUB-STATION,” with a blue arrow pointing somewhere, but half of it was blocked by a message that popped up in the middle of the screen:
“WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? LIEUTENANT IS NOT HAPPY. WORSE THAN THAT, CHLOE'S GIVING OFF BAD READINGS. YOU NEED TO GET BACK HERE NOW! - DART.”
✽✽✽
I'm not going to lie. For the next couple moments, I just stood there. Then after a minute or three, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk outside of a nightclub, internally freaking out over what to do. Then I dragged Scott over to a nearby lamppost, and propped him up against it. From there, I was able to pull his arms over my shoulders until most of him lay unconscious on my back.
The only strenuous physical activities I was used to were in P.E., like the climbing rope. The closest I ever came to carrying a person was giving Chloe piggyback ride
s. So after about 5 minutes of walking—trudging—I quickly realized there was little comparison between a piggyback ride, and a grown man's dead weight on my back.
What little energy I was able to muster came from Dart’s message. There was something wrong with Chloe, and I needed to get back there to find out what it was as fast as I could.
I was able make it to the De Mentoria subway station on that motivation alone. But Scott was still really heavy, so I was relieved when at some point along the way, he woke up enough to drag his feet along. Although, he was pretty much still unconscious until we got off the subway at the Depression Force.
A dim yellow light, like the blue one from before, led a path for me out of the inner corridor where we boarded the subway car, and out into the dimly lit entrance. I was able to follow the light back to the stairs. “Great,” I sighed between breaths. I'd totally forgotten about the stairs. Scott made some sort of grunting sound next to me, and tried his hardest to position himself against the railing and pull himself up the first few steps. On about the fourth step, though, his foot slipped and he started to fall back down the steps. I dashed forward, putting my hands out to catch him. I pushed him from his back, to lean him back against the railing. Then I slung his other arm over my shoulder and shifted his weight to help him up each step.
Thus began the long trip up. I had to stop a few times to catch my breath, each time wishing we were reached the top. Or that I could just not move anymore. But we kept going. It was the least I could do now that I remembered who I was helping.
I couldn't believe I didn't recognize him sooner. Even right now, it proved difficult to recall all the details about him from back then. I wanted to blame that therapist my dad sent me to, but there was no point. “We've all gone through it.” Scott's voice echoed in my ears. But this time, the memory was so vivid. I'd lost my brother that day, and Scott just as easily lost a friend. For a moment, I thought we still in De Mentoria; that my memory was another flashback.
I remembered Lucas driving me home in the new car he'd got, and picking up Scott on the way. They made jokes at each other the whole way home. They hung out all afternoon, and I followed them around just to feel included; it made me smile just being around. Then Lucas went down the hallway, and I heard arguing. Mom and he started yelling. Lucas stormed out of the hallway, grabbed his jacket, and slammed the front door behind him. Scott opened the door and ran after them. I tried to peek through the window by the door, but all I could see was dark clouds and rain. I heard the engine roar to life and ran upstairs to my bedroom, just in time to see them driving off in Lucas' car from my rain-splattered window.
I lost my big brother; Lucas was gone after leaving that night. But with the weight of him on my back, it became easy to realize Scott never came back too.
21. I Wouldn’t Have Punched Him If I Knew He Was Sick!
Just when I felt like I couldn't take another step, my legs were on fire, and I was panting like crazy, we reached the top of the steps.
I half-carried, half-dragged Scott down the hallway, looking for the front office or an infirmary or something. I wasn't really sure; anything that could offer help
“Help!” I shouted. I looked over at Scott. He was beginning to really wake up, but he looked a lot worse. His hair was matted to the sweat coming off his face. And his face looked like an ugly mix of red and green, like he was going to scream in rage and throw up at the same time.
“Help! Anybody!” I shouted again, looking in any open doors for people to help. But I couldn't see anybody. This police HQ was a ghost station.
Then the Lieutenant came running around the hall with two Depression Force Officers in tow. I laid Scott down on the ground as softly as I could, and leaned up against the wall to catch my breath.
“What's going on? Why are you two so late?!” Lieutenant Hollister sounded like she was trying to be more upset than she was. I had no response for her, except pointing down at Scott. She looked at me, then down at him. When she looked back up at me, her expression had changed. She knew as well as I did trying to help Scott was the main focus right now.
She knelt down by Scott and tried to ask him something I didn't hear, but he swung his arm out at her. She jumped away from him, and Scott tried to stand up. He yelled with each move he made, like he was fighting whatever was making him sick in the first place. The more he roared against it, the more he coughed and fell back to the ground.
“You two,” Lieutenant Hollister pointed to the other Officers, “take him to the infirmary.”
“Yes, ma'am.” they said in unison. One agent wrapped his arms around Scott's shoulders, and the other grabbed his legs. Scott didn't make it easy for them, flailing around as they tried to pick him up. But once they did, it took them little effort to carry him down the hallway.
The Lieutenant brushed her hair out of her face and asked, “What happened out there?” She looked at me intently, her eyes showing she was still in attack mode from Scott. My stomach did a flip, and I thought I was going to throw up next. I was unsure of how to tell her without spilling information on where we were.
“Ahh...well, it went like this, you see...” I stuttered to myself, trying to buy time to think. I couldn't tell her anything about De Mentoria, which is where it happened. If it happened at The Square, there was no excuse for us not to be back by now. Not to mention, I didn't even know what caused Scott to lose it in the first place. Lieutenant Hollister looked like she was getting ready to yell at me again. I had to think of something.
“Lucy?” Dart's voice said, at the perfect moment. I turned and saw him coming from the way the officers just took Scott. Awesome, I thought. Maybe he could buy me a few more seconds before I dug my own grave.
“What happened? Is Scott gonna be—” He started to say as he got closer. Then he stopped and looked at me, and then Lieutenant Hollister.
“Err...sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything.” he said, holding up his hands in defense. “No, it's nothing,” I said quickly. I wanted to encourage him to interrupt all he wanted, but I didn't figure that would go over well with the Lieutenant. She looked like she was getting ready to interject, so I quickly changed the subject, pointing to the cloth in Dart's hand. “Did Scott just give that to you?” In one hand, he held the cloth-wrapped metal gadget Scott picked up from the Square.
“Yeah.” Dart said. “I—”
“Wait,” Lieutenant Hollister cut him off, asking, “is that the piece?”
“Yes, ma'am, it is. I ran into Scott—well, two guys carrying him, on my way over. He didn't look exactly like...himself. But he gave me the piece before those two guys carried him away. Is he going to be okay?”
“I don't know.” The Lieutenant sighed. “It's probably best for you to focus on this project though. Do you have an estimate for completion?”
“I should be able to work on the machine overnight and have it up and running tomorrow.”
“That's good news.” The Lieutenant said, sounding a little more at ease. Easy for her to feel, I suppose. After all, I was the one who had to go back into the Zones.
“Right, but that's not all Scott gave me,” Dart said, leaning in a little closer. “He also—”
Just then, a few Depression Force Officers turned a nearby corner, laughing about something as they came down the hallway from behind us, and Dart stopped talking to move out of their way. I recognized one of the girls as the one who had given messages to The Lieutenant. Dart also got clothes for me from her. I couldn't place her name, though. It started with an H. But my brain was a bit frazzled. I couldn't think straight anyway.
“Anyway,” Dart said as they walked past us, “Scott muttered something about the rogue Agent before he fell asleep. I couldn't really hear what he was saying, but any news is worth hearing, right?”
Lieutenant Hollister nodded. “Right. I'll go see if I can hear it from him once he wakes up. For now, I want you to get started on that machine, Dart.” Dart nodded, and ran off back the way he cam
e.
“As for you...” she said to me, still facing the hallway Dart and the other officers walked down.
“Officer Halsey, front and center!” she yelled loud and clear enough for the whole base to hear. Not a moment later, Officer Halsey came running back around the corner her and her group disappeared behind. When she arrived, she glanced at me, and then kept her eyes focused on Lieutenant Hollister, who turned to look at me and said, “I want you to take Lucy to the barracks to get some rest before her next zone tomorrow.”
“Yes ma'am,” Halsey answered, and then the Lieutenant walked off down the hallway.
✽✽✽
I followed Halsey to the women's barracks, which took a good amount of walking to get to. If I didn't know better, I'd say the Depression Force was just growing new rooms as it needed them.
“If this place is a building, I'm a bug in comparison. It's huge in here.” I told her. She chuckled a little. “We've never actually met. It's Lucy?” I nodded at her.
“Well, Lucy, it does take some getting used to. There are a few places I still get lost in, too. In fact, the barracks are actually a wing of the headquarters, made up of rooms on one half, and bathrooms on the other. The men’s' barracks are located on the opposite side of the building...” her voice trailed off, and she stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Wait...” she said slowly.
“What?” I asked, looking for something to hold on to.
“Was it this side that had the women's barracks? Or was it at the other end?” she looked at me, as if I knew the answer.
“You mean we're going the wrong way?” I asked, clueless. I was already so tired. If I had to turn around and walk the other way, I'd probably drop where I stood. She took a couple steps forward down a hallway, and peeked around a corner.
“Oh no, wait. This is the right way,” she called out. Then she turned around and gestured for me to follow her.