by Shiloh White
As we ran, I looked over at Chug running at the front, his eyes straight ahead. I ran to catch up with him and asked, “Why did you come back?”
“Mr. Reggie sent me back,” Chug said, keeping his eyes forward, “to repay the favor for breaking his window.”
“What about the bullets? Where'd you get those?” Takao asked from behind me. I'd almost forgotten he was here; he said nothing up until now. “Mr. Reggie gifted those to me.” Chug said.
“Gifted it to you? That doesn't sound like Mr. Reggie at all,” Dart said underneath his breath next to me. I gave him a weird look as we ran. “What do you mean? Those bullets came in handy.”
“Exactly,” Dart continued. “He should've made Chug come back here and fix the problem himself—or die trying.” he told me.
“Is Mr. Reggie really that...” My voice cut off, half because my breath left me and half because as crazy as he was, I didn't want to think negatively of Mr. Reggie...
“Just think about it.” Dart said.
Of course. Because between the crazy realization of my now-alive sibling and having to currently run for my life, I had brain power to spare. But there was truth to what Dart was getting at. When he asked Mr. Reggie for a favor, he sent us out here to earn it. Now I was just trying to stay alive. Not my idea of a gift. But to just give Chug some unique bullets, after what he did to Mr. Reggie's window? I decided Dart was right. I looked at him and gave him a look that said, yeah, that doesn't add up.
“Are you sure he said it was a gift?” Dart said.
“Yeah. It was a gift.” Chug said, turning around to look at us. He wore a dark expression of fear on his face that told us that he was done talking. So we just focused on running from Tyrese and Jimmy Boy who, judging by the sounds of the wreckage behind us, were not far behind.
Before long, we passed the old building in the alleyway and the pile of boxes and crates past that. We turned the corner and ran out of the alleyway, finding ourselves back on the sidewalk. The area was covered in fog, so I couldn't see it from where I was standing, but I was pretty sure we were only a few blocks down from “Mr. Reggie's”, the restaurant.
As we got closer, I realized two things, the first being—
“WHERE'D THE RESTAURANT GO?!” Halsey practically screamed.
...Yep. That was the first thing. The entire restaurant was gone. In its place was an empty old cement slab, littered here and there with the occasional piece of litter. It like “Mr. Reggie's” was never there.
“Who cares? Keep running!” Chug said, sounding relieved. Of all the things to feel right now. “Hey guys, our one and only safe zone disappeared! Isn't that great?” He had to be joking, or losing his marbles. Probably both.
But we listened. Even if the restaurant was missing; even if Chug was losing his marbles, running was better than what was behind us.
The second thing I realized was that as we got closer to the empty lot, the fog began to clear. Behind the fog, I saw someone standing on the empty lot, waving us down.
“Guys,” I said, trying to stay calm as we ran straight toward the stranger in the fog, “who's that?”
✽✽✽
“It looks like...” Dart said. The distance between us and the empty lot where “Mr. Reggie's” stood not an hour ago was shortening fast. I quickly recognized the ensemble of the man in the fog as closer we got; his black vest over his long-sleeve white dress shirt; the long black fancy pants. I wondered if he ever got hot in all that. “It's Gordon, Mr. Reggie's butler!' I finished for Dart. I wasn't sure if he could help us with the two giant Depression Agent clouds, but I felt more relieved to see someone standing on the empty lot rather than the empty lot itself.
Chug cursed with words no twelve-year-old should know—Depression Agent or not.
“He's here? Oh, great.”
I gave him a weird look.
“Do you want to get ripped to shreds by those two goons?” I asked him. Chug shook his head.
“It's just—” he paused and looked around. “Wait, where's Takao?”
I thought he was changing the subject, so I waited for him to give it up. But after a moment, we all came to the realization Takao wasn't with us anymore.
“There he is!” Halsey said, pointing back down the way we came. He was far enough away that you could just barely make out who it was. Then he quickly turned a corner and disappeared. In front of us, Chug stopped running and did a one-eighty.
“Takao? Where are you going?” He yelled, cupping his hands. I almost stopped with him, but Dart scooped him up without missing a beat, making the decision for us: keep running.
“What are you doing? He's the other way!” Chug said, struggling to get free from Dart's grip. If only he knew how useless his efforts were.
“What are you doing?” Dart countered. “You probably just woke up all of De Mentoria, and more importantly, lead those two goons right to us!” Just then, a building exploded behind us. We turned around and saw Tyrese and Jimmy Boy breaking through an alleyway, their smoke spilling onto the street behind us as they laughed the whole time.
“Let Takao leave,” Dart said, turning back towards the empty lot, “he's not our problem now. And trust me, we have more than enough of those.” he gestured behind him with his free hand. “Fine,” Chug said, sounding defeated. Dart put him down, and we poured on the speed until we made it to Gordon.
“It appears The Boss's gift proved useful to you,” Gordon said as we slowed to a halt. His eyes were fixed on Chug who, if I didn't know any better, looked to be hiding behind Dart. “Since you're all still alive, I mean.” Gordon elaborated, gesturing to us all standing in front of them. I turned around, and saw Tyrese and Jimmy Boy still down the street. But they were moving fast.
“Uhh, speaking of Mr. Reggie,” I said quickly, bouncing from foot to foot, “where is he?”
“And his restaurant,” Halsey added.
“The Boss had other business to attend to, and apologizes to you all for not being able to show up.” Gordon said, folding his hands together.
“And because he couldn't be here, the restaurant decided not to show up either?” Halsey said. I didn't know why she was so obsessed with the restaurant disappearing, but I agreed with her to a certain degree. The restaurant could've provided shelter for us.
“Ahh, about that...” Gordon said, and he reached his hand into his vest pocket. “He did leave this behind.” He pulled out a small vial with a blue liquid inside, and handed it to Dart. “Consider this his apology for the trouble, and to you, Mr. Dart.” Dart turned around, and I looked too. Tyrese and Jimmy Boy were only a couple blocks away now, tearing up the street as they barreled towards us.
“What do you mean?” Dart asked, facing Gordon again.
“After you left—the new employee tried to run after you guys.” Gordon explained. The new employee. He probably meant to call him Mr. Permanent-Bad-Attitude Face. “I chased him down and stopped him,” Gordon continued, “and I found a syringe that had traces for an injection of a special kind of insanity—”
“Waspish Syndrome,” I said for him, and totally not just because we were trying to escape. “Exactly,” Gordon said, sounding pleased that we'd figured out some of it on our own. “He told us someone from Club Insanis paid him to find a girl with pale blonde hair, and—”
“We found out the rest at the club.” I said hurriedly, with a polite smile.
“Right, of course,” Gordon nodded at me. Then he looked at Dart. “The Boss regrets not trusting his most valuable informant, and that you are welcome back at any time. Dart chuckled awkwardly, and said, “Thanks, but I don't think I'll be—”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!”
Tyrese and Jimmy Boy were right down the street now. They'd be on us in seconds. Gordon leaned to the left, looking over Dart's shoulder at them.
“Sounds like you have quite the predicament on your hands,” Gordon said observantly. “You should get going.”
“Say no more,” Dart told him
. We started off down the sidewalk, but Chug wasn't with us. I turned around and saw he hadn't budged from standing next to Gordon.
✽✽✽
“Hello? Chug?” I called out. “Giant Depression Agent crazy guys right behind us. Time to get moving.” I told him.
“The boy will be staying with The Boss until he's repaid his debts. After all,” Gordon called out, placing his hands in his pants pockets, “those bullets weren't cheap.”
“I knew it.” Dart scowled. “Mr. Reggie doesn't give for nothing in return.” I watched as the big smoke clouds began to slow down as they reached where Gordon and Chug stood.
“LOOK, JIMMY BOY, WE FOUND THEM!” Tyrese bellowed in his deeper-than-life rough woodsman voice.
“You know what to do,” Gordon told Chug, putting a hand on his shoulder. Chug nodded regretfully, looking down at the ground. He started to run across the street, opposite the direction from the empty lot and the sidewalk where we stood.
“MY NAME'S NOT JIMMY BOY! NOW LOOK, TYRESE, THEY'RE SPLITTING UP. WHAT SHOULD WE DO?” Jimmy Boy said. His surfer voice was deep and growly inside the hurricane of smoke where his mouth might have been.
“Chug, what are you doing?” I yelled.
“Something stupid!” Chug answered. “And I don't wanna see you standing there when I get back! Get out of here!” He turned and kept running, back the way we had come.
“AFTER THE KID! HE'S THE ONE WHO SHOT US!” Tyrese yelled. Then they both let out a deep round of crazed laughter before turning around and charging at Chug.
“Chug, wait—” I started to run after him, but Dart put his arm out in front of me. “Chug is smart, Lucy. He's giving us a way out, even if it is out of debt to Mr. Reggie. We need to take it.”
I hesitated, watching the two giant black clouds chase down Chug. Then I tore myself away from the sight, and caught up with Halsey and Dart down the sidewalk.
We went through an alleyway that came out at the bridge that led into the subway. We ran up the bridge and I stopped halfway. In the dim light of all the streetlamps (or the ones that Tyrese and Jimmy Boy hadn't smashed apart anyway), I could make out a small shape I was sure was Chug. He was running as fast as his legs would take him, the two Depression Agent bouncers right on top of him. All of a sudden he took a sharp turn to the right, off the road. He ran over to the railing that blocked the sidewalk from the river, and climbed up over it.
“NO!” Tyrese yelled so loud, I could hear him from the bridge, “DON'T LET HIM JUMP!” He and Jimmy Boy rushed forward to catch him, but they were too late. Chug jumped into the river, escaping their grasp. The two Agents let out a collective scream that definitely woke up all of De Mentoria, and might have also shook the bridge. They took turns trying to bury their smoky selves into the river after Chug. All they managed to do was churn up the water and spit it back out all over the neighborhood. Call it the craziness from being here too long, but I couldn't help but snicker.
Chug did outsmart them. But no sooner did I make that noise did their splashing stop.
“LOOK, UP ON THE BRIDGE! IT’S ANOTHER ONE!” Tyrese screamed. Then they charged the bridge. I could not figure out how they heard me, or even saw me from where I stood. As they surged toward me, I couldn't bring my feet to move. I just stood there, wondering if they could even leave the Anchor Zone in that smoke form.
Thankfully, Halsey didn't let me stick around to find out. “Let's go, Lucy!” she yelled. She ran back to grab my arm and pulled me into the subway terminal. We caught up to Dart, and boarded a train back to the Depression Force.
38. Blood On My Hands
Everyone held their breath until the train took off. I was sure we were all hoping that Tyrese and Jimmy Boy wouldn't make it to us in time.
But the train lurched forward and we took off like normal. Every second, I slowly became more certain that we'd left the two of them behind.
Dart recounted to Halsey everything that happened after she went unconscious (or, everything until Dart went unconscious too). I spent the ride making myself appear asleep—hugging my legs with my head down and eyes closed—so that I wouldn't have to face either of them.
“How's your head doing now, by the way?” I heard Dart ask.
“It's fine now, more or less.” Halsey answered. “I know the inside of it is shaken up thanks to the insanity bullet, but did I really bang my head against the ground?”
“I'm surprised you don't remember.” Dart said.
“All I remember after the bullet is being alone.”
“Alone?”
“I was alone in the room—everyone else disappeared. Then I felt like I was falling through darkness. I started screaming, but no sound came out. I couldn't see or hear anything.” I felt Halsey shudder next to me.
I felt sick to my stomach. I wished I could tell her a sound did come out. I doubted it would restore any of the sanity that bullet took, though.
“When I finally stopped falling,” Halsey continued, “I woke up in that club. But something tells me if it wasn't for Lucy and Chug being there, I wouldn't have stopped falling.”
I poked an eye open at Halsey. She looked as shaken up as she sounded. The bump on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but it was still purple and pretty big. Her silver hair looked disheveled and had woodchips and dirt in it. Her pupils were dilated too—the rush of insanity probably still leaving her system.
I glanced at Dart, and he didn't look much better. Although, he looked more tired than shaken up. He sat all sprawled out in his chair, one hand clutching the vial that would heal Scott and the other on his head; over his heavy eyes.
They'd both done so much to help Scott. Even Chug, without knowing if he did, helped us get out of there. I couldn't justify Mr. Reggie's act of making him a scapegoat though, even if he was guilty.
On top of all that, there was Lucas to think about. As much as I kept shutting the thought down and locking it away or kept repeating the thought in my mind, in fear that it might stop being real if I didn't believe it, (Irrational, I know; blame my therapist) the truth bit at me like a flea.
But if he really didn't die back then; if he was really alive here in the Dust...I needed to know why. Why was he a Depression Agent—the rogue Agent, no less, bent on screwing up Depression for everyone, and most especially, me? On top of all that, he'd taken my sister—his sister—to get ahold of me.
Or so Damian said. But then, why had Lucas also stopped me in my zone, just to tell me to give up and leave altogether?
Something wasn't adding up, and it was freaking me out.
For now, the only safe conclusion I came to was that saving Chloe was still the top priority. If Lucas was a Depression Agent, and bent on keeping her from me...I would have to stop him, wouldn’t I?
All of those thoughts and questions swimming around left a heavy feeling in my stomach; as well as a wet and sticky one in my hands.
I gazed down at my palms and saw a dark liquid dripping from four crescent-shaped cuts on either hand. I threw out a sigh, slowly turning my hands over until the palms were resting on top of my jeans.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been clenching my fists.
39. My Second Attempt At A Hospital Throwdown (Spoiler: It Fails Again)
Our train pulled into the Depression Force HQ subway station in what felt like a way shorter time than when I dragged Scott back with me. I didn't mind one bit.
All three of us booked it out of the train as soon as the doors open. Halfway to the stairs, I couldn't help stopping to look behind me. I wanted to see if those two Depression Agents tried to chase us all the way here. The overall silence of the train station/tunnel told me that they didn't. Well, that and the lack of two giant twisters of darkness. But it probably meant they went back to find Chug. I clenched my fists again, wishing we could have helped him more somehow.
“Lucy, come on! We've got less than twenty minutes!” Halsey called out, almost a whole flight of stairs above me. Right. For now, Scott needed our help.
I ran after Dart and Halsey up the steps.
As I got closer to the top of the stairs, I saw Dart in the doorway that led to HQ. He was saying something to Halsey that I couldn't make out. Then he handed her the small medicine vial and jogged out of sight. I picked up the pace and reached the top, looking out the doorway to see where he went. I watched him turn left around the corner, going where I vaguely remembered to be the opposite way of the infirmary.
“Where's he going?” I asked Halsey, pointing in the direction Dart ran with my thumb.
“He said to the Observation Deck to check on something.” Halsey answered.
“So he wants us to deliver the medicine?” I asked.
Halsey nodded, and gestured for us to start moving towards the infirmary. “Yeah...I can't imagine what he's going through.”
“Scott?” I asked, following her lead down the hallway.
Halsey said nothing, eyeing the vial in her hand as we ran. I wished she would have put it in her pocket or something. We came far to get that thing. It'd be a shame to arrive at the infirmary with nothing but wet broken glass and an apology.
“No,” she finally answered, “Dart.” I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to decipher her response.
“The Observation Deck is probably a cover,” Halsey explained. “You ask me? Dart doesn't want to be around the guy who almost killed him.”
“Why would that matter to him? Aren't the two of them good friends?”
(Keep in mind; I didn't have great experience being good friends with people.) I figured, as crazy as one of them killing the other was, it'd all be behind them before long if they were really friends like Dart told me once before.
“It might not matter to strangers, but to a close friend, who's practically family…” she shrugged, wearing a hopeless expression on her face to emphasize her point.
“Things like that have a lot more impact,” Halsey continued. “It might take Dart a little while to come around.”
I nodded. The word family hung on my mind. I thought of Lucas, his words echoing in my head: