Melissa, Queen of Evil

by Mardi McConnochie

  ‘Where are we going?’ I gasped, after a while.

  Ben grabbed me by the arm and dragged me sideways, into a used car dealership. We ducked down and went weaving through the cars. Behind us, the agent’s footfalls slowed to a stop and I knew he was closing in.

  ‘Okay,’ Ben said, when we were tucked away behind an ancient Kombi van. ‘Here’s the plan. We’re going to let him find us –’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘And then we’re going to neutralise him.’

  I stared at Ben. There was a look on his face that I had never seen before – tense, wild, almost elated – and I realised that the prospect of a confrontation had released something in him. He was excited, focused, vividly alive. Was this the real Ben? I wondered. Or was it the person he became when his powers came alive?

  ‘How?’ I asked.

  He grinned. ‘Take my hand,’ he said. ‘You’ll know.’

  I took his hand. His skin was rough and dry, his grip firm. I’m holding Ben’s hand, I thought irrelevantly. My bracelet was doing somersaults, and so was my heart. My powers began to surge again, in a blinding, deafening rush. Black spots started dancing before my eyes. Ben crouched beside me, his eyes bright, his lips slightly parted, listening, alert, and although we were the ones who were hiding it was like we were the predators, not the agent of order who was hunting us. My senses were so heightened I could almost feel the vibrations of the agent’s footfalls as he moved between the cars. I felt a shiver of nervous anticipation as he drew closer and closer. There were two of us and only one of him, but did he know something we didn’t? Was he stronger than we were? Were we about to make a terrible, and final, mistake? Ben glanced at me and I realised I could almost hear his thoughts – a wave of reassurance seemed to flow out of him and into me and I began to feel wonderfully, frighteningly invincible.

  The agent was getting close now. I could sense him waiting, listening, wondering what we were about to do. Ben’s hand was tight on mine – wait, wait – and then the agent moved – he was around the corner – he was upon us. Ben was on his feet in one swift motion, pulling me up with him, and he pounced on the agent, gripping the back of the agent’s neck hard with his free hand. Something told me to latch on too and the two of us held the agent tight. The agent thrashed and flailed, trying to break our grip, but as we held him I felt a surge of power greater than anything I had ever felt before as my energy fed into Ben’s and Ben’s energy fed into mine, forming a huge destructive current, and we poured everything we had into that agent until all our energy was spent.

  Ben released the agent from his grip and so did I and his knees gave way and he sank to the ground.

  ‘What did we just do to him?’ I asked.

  Ben looked at me, and I could still see that wild, elated, dangerous look in his eyes. ‘We neutralised him,’ he said, in a voice that was filled with wonder.

  I stared down at the agent of order, feeling frightened and wicked and a little bit sick.

  ‘But what does that mean?’ I asked.

  Ben knelt down beside the agent and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked.

  For a moment there was no response. Then I saw the agent’s eyes open, and he looked up at Ben with the

  unfocused gaze of a kitten.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ben asked. ‘Can you speak?’

  The agent gazed at him, his eyes blank and uncomprehending, and then a babble of nonsense words came out of his mouth.

  Ben looked up at me, a sort of savage smile on his face. ‘It worked,’ he said. He looked down at the agent, and the expression on his face was a strange mix of triumph and pity. ‘We’d better get you some help,’ he said.

  I stared down at the agent while Ben called an ambulance. The agent curled up and made himself comfortable against the wheel of the Kombi and began singing tunelessly to himself.

  ‘But – I still don’t understand what happened,’ I said.

  ‘The white circle use dampening fields, we use destructive energy. They flatten everything down, we blow everything up,’ Ben said. ‘Basically, we detonated a bomb in his brain.’

  I gazed down at the agent, my heart filling with dismay. He wasn’t that old – probably no more than 30 – dressed in khaki shorts and a rugby shirt with the collar turned up. He looked like he could have spent the afternoon sailing.

  ‘And he won’t get better?’ I asked.

  Ben shook his head.

  ‘I wonder who he was,’ I said.

  Ben leaned down and removed something from his shirt. I realised it was the pin that identified him as an agent. I hadn’t noticed it before – it had been camouflaged against the blue stripes on his shirt.

  ‘He’s one of the agents who neutralised Marcus,’ Ben said, his voice deceptively calm. When I looked at him the expression of pity had gone, replaced by anger. ‘I recognised him as soon as I saw him.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll never forget their faces.’ Ben was silent for a moment, looking down at the agent. ‘So. That’s one.’

  I stared at him. ‘So this wasn’t a coincidence?’ I asked. ‘You think they’ve managed to track you down at last?’

  ‘Yep,’ Ben said. ‘Come on.’

  He tucked the pin in his pocket and started to weave his way through the cars. I looked back at the agent, who was still singing to himself as he stared up at the sky.

  ‘We’re not just going to leave him here are we?’ I asked.

  Ben stopped and looked back at me. ‘Do you want to tell the ambulance officers what happened?’ he asked.

  Ben kept walking and I hurried after him, hoping the agent was going to be all right. We headed back the way we’d come, and then Ben stopped beside an ancient car which was parked on the street near the motel. It was acid yellow except for one door which was red.

  ‘This is your car?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, trying to open the passenger door.

  ‘The handle doesn’t work,’ Ben said. ‘You have to open it from the inside.’

  He opened the door for me and I climbed in.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘I guess your parents aren’t so rich after all.’

  As I climbed into the passenger seat I saw him frown, reaching for his back pocket. I thought he was going for his wallet, but instead he pulled out a book which was liberally decorated with pink sequins and sparkly things. It had MELISSA written across the front of it in big glittery letters.

  It was my address book.

  ‘Is this yours?’ he asked.

  I felt the blood rushing to my face. ‘Where did you get that?’ I asked.

  ‘It was in the motel room,’ Ben said. ‘You called my phone and left a message saying you desperately needed to see me. I couldn’t work out what the hell you’d be doing in a place like that but when I saw that book lying on the bed I thought it must be for real.’

  I imagined him walking into the room – the door slamming behind him – the dampening field kicking in – the realisation that it was a trap – I felt terrible.

  ‘It is yours then?’ he asked impatiently.

  ‘I lost it,’ I admitted. ‘They must have stolen it out of my locker.’

  Ben stared at me for a long moment, and I knew he was really, really pissed off at me. He flipped to the page with his name on it, and tore it out. ‘Next time,’ he said, ‘don’t write this down, okay?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t think.’ My face could not get any redder.

  ‘Well, you’d better start,’ he said angrily, ‘because next time we may not be so lucky.’

  I hung my head, filled with shame. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I was an idiot. There was a long silence, and when Ben spoke again, his voice was calmer.

  ‘I can’t believe you actually came,’ he said. ‘How did you get here anyway?’

  I snuck a look at him, and saw his crooked smile.
The old Ben was back – the cautious, controlled one.

  ‘On the train.’

  ‘Really?’ he laughed. ‘Well, well.’

  In the distance we heard an ambulance siren. ‘Time for us to go,’ Ben said, and gunned the engine.

  ‘Now what we’ve got to do is make a plan,’ Ben said, as he steered us out onto the highway. ‘We have to assume that where there’s one, there’s likely to be all five, so we’re going to have to work out some way to try and take them all out. It’s too dangerous to go home – they’ll probably be watching our houses – but I think I know where there’s a safe house not too far from here. I’ll take us there now and we can work out what to do.’

  ‘Now?’ I said, glancing at my watch.

  ‘Why?’ Ben asked, with a trace of sarcasm. ‘Did you have something else planned?’

  ‘Well, yeah, actually, I did,’ I said. ‘It’s the school social tonight and I promised Soph I’d go.’

  Ben shot me a sidelong glance. ‘The school social?’

  ‘I know it’s lame,’ I said, ‘but it’s a really big deal to Soph and she’ll kill me if I don’t go.’

  For a moment, I could tell, he was speechless. ‘You know what?’ he said finally. ‘It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.’

  It was my turn to look surprised.

  ‘It’ll be busy, right? There’ll be tons of people around. The agents won’t dare to come after you there.’

  ‘You mean I can go?’

  ‘Sure, why not? But I think I’d better come too.’

  My heart skipped a beat. ‘You? You want to come? To my school social?’

  ‘We need to stick together until we know what those agents are up to. I don’t want them to catch you on your own.’

  ‘Yes. Right. Sure,’ I said, in a strangled voice.

  Ben glanced at me, an amused look on his face. ‘I promise not to embarrass you in front of your friends.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s not that . . . ’ I tried to get a grip. ‘It’s more the opposite problem.’

  He smiled. ‘If I can survive my own school social I can survive yours,’ he said easily.

  I just nodded. I was finding it difficult to breathe.

  Ben was coming to the social!

  The Social

  Soph and I had arranged that I would go round to her place at five to start getting ready. The social started at 7.30 and we didn’t want to risk missing a single minute of it because of any last-minute fashion crises. Getting Ben out of the oubliette had put me a little behind schedule, but by 5.30 I was knocking on Soph’s door.

  ‘I have nothing to wear,’ I announced as she let me in.

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Soph said, and swept me off to her room.

  Luckily for me, Soph knew exactly how pitiful my wardrobe was, so she didn’t think it was weird that I’d turn up to get ready for a party empty-handed. I hadn’t been able to go back home for my clothes, such as they were, because Ben was worried we might be ambushed by agents of order. He had gone to borrow some clothes off a friend while I got ready at Soph’s.

  It was a good thing we’d allocated plenty of time for getting ready because Soph had to change seven times, I changed twice, Soph had to get back under the shower and wash her hair again because she had a product disaster and I had to do my make-up twice after an ill-advised excursion into purple eye shadow (it looked so easy when they explained how to do it in the magazine). But at last we were ready.

  ‘Soph,’ I said, ‘I have something to tell you.’

  ‘What?’ she said, as she pouted at herself in the mirror and fiddled with her lip gloss.

  ‘Ben’s coming to the social.’

  Her face lit up as she turned to look at me. ‘You’re not serious!’ she screamed.

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘Oh my God, this is fantastic! I can’t wait to meet him! Is he coming here or are you meeting him there?’

  ‘He’s going to meet us at the school gate,’ I said.

  Soph was hopping up and down. ‘This is so exciting! I can’t believe you actually asked him!’

  I shrugged modestly. I didn’t think Soph needed to know all the ins and outs of it.

  We went out to the lounge room to show ourselves off to Soph’s parents.

  ‘You look great, girls,’ Soph’s mum said, while Soph’s dad took photos of us.

  ‘You look like idiots,’ sniggered Felix.

  ‘At least we’re going to the social,’ Soph sneered back. ‘What have you got planned for tonight, geek boy?’

  ‘Tidying my sock drawer would be more fun than going to the school social,’ Felix said archly, although it was clear he was a little sensitive about it.

  Soph’s dad drove us to the school. ‘I’ll be here to collect you at eleven o’clock on the dot,’ he said, as he dropped us at the back gate nearest to the gym.

  Ben was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘He’s late,’ Soph said, studying her watch. It was 7.30 exactly.

  ‘Just give him a minute,’ I said. ‘He’ll be here.’

  He didn’t appear.

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Soph at 7.32.

  ‘He’s been ages,’ she said at 7.36.

  ‘Are you sure he’s coming?’ she asked at 7.40.

  ‘You should call him,’ she said, holding out her phone, at 7.42.

  I called him. ‘Ben, it’s Melissa. Where are you?’

  I could hear him panting. It sounded like he was running. ‘Can’t talk now,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there soon. Go in without me.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, alarmed. ‘Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?’

  ‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ he said. ‘Gotta go.’

  And then he hung up on me.

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Soph.

  ‘He said he’d meet us in there,’ I said.

  ‘Great!’ Soph said. ‘Let’s go!’

  She was already hurrying towards the gym.

  I followed her, a little reluctantly. I would much rather have gone looking for Ben but I had no idea where he was. His voice down the phone had had that note of exhilaration I recognised from our earlier encounter with the agent of order, and I knew it meant he was powered up and pumping. Could he have encountered another agent already? It seemed the most likely explanation, but his bracelet hadn’t called mine, so there wasn’t much I could do about it. I just had to hope he was going to be okay.

  ‘It seems weird to be coming here at night,’ I said, trying to get into the party spirit, as we walked past the darkened classrooms. Dance music was already booming out, distorted by the echoing acoustic.

  ‘And out of uniform, too,’ Soph said, as a girl from our year walked past in a fashion statement so edgy you could cut yourself on it.

  It was my first social. I had never been to anything like it before, and in spite of my anxiety about Ben my heart began to flutter with excitement as I joined the throng of people, hundreds of my schoolmates, all dressed up to the nines, all hurrying towards the gym and all looking for something: a chance to dance and have fun, to explore and take risks, to become someone else or be your true self for a single enchanted night, to begin something, to end something, to find freedom, to look for love. The night held every possibility; it was up to you what you made of it. Soph, I knew, was hoping to wrest Ravi from the firm grip of Vicky Lind. As for me, I just wanted to get through it all in one piece.

  When we got to the gym the dance floor was still half empty, although the room was packed. A few girls were dancing in monosexual groups but most people were still waiting to take the plunge, cruising around the room looking for their friends, checking out the decorations, buying soft drinks, and looking for people to laugh at. The music was ear-shatteringly loud, drowning in bass. I spotted Mina standing with Celeste and Kelly, waiting for the rest of the gang to show up.

  ‘This is great!’ I said as we joined them.

  ‘Love your top!’ said Kelly.

  ‘Thanks. Love your hair!�
��

  We congratulated each other on different aspects of our appearance for a while and then moved on to pointing out fashion disasters and the boys who’d turned up pissed. Only Soph didn’t participate. She was scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes and a Clint Eastwood expression.

  ‘I love this song!’ shrieked Mina, when we’d run out of people to mock for the time being.

  ‘Hey, Soph,’ I said, ‘shall we go and dance?’

  ‘You go,’ Soph said. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

  Soph wandered off while we hit the dance floor. At first I tried to keep an eye on her in case she needed back-up but then I forgot about her because I was having too much fun dancing. I must have danced for about twenty minutes before a dud song came on.

  ‘I’m going to get a drink,’ I told my friends.

  I wandered through the crowd, heading for the drinks stand, keeping an eye out for Soph. She hadn’t joined us on the dance floor. Had she found Ravi? Was there tonsil hockey taking place? Or had she run into Vicky Lind instead and got into a hair-pulling, eye-gouging, head-stomping fight?

  With no sign of Soph I joined the drinks queue and waited. The drinks stand was being run by the P&C and I scanned the dads behind the counter in the hope that one of them might be the dad of someone I knew and I could beg them for a freebie. But none of the faces looked familiar, and I was about to turn away and have another look for Soph when something caught my eye. I felt a tiny little flare of alarm before I’d even fully registered what it was I was seeing. I looked again, and realised that one of the dads was wearing a lapel pin. It was a white circle on a blue background.

  He was from the forces of order. They were here.

  My heart started hammering. The dad turned to serve the next kid in line. Had he seen me? Did he know who I was? If they knew enough about me to steal my address book from my locker, then they probably knew what I looked like. I turned and walked away from the queue as quickly as possible without actually bolting, acutely aware of the snake bracelet on my wrist, which suddenly felt huge and clunky and obvious. I put my hand over it to hide it from view, beat a hasty retreat to the toilets and locked myself in a cubicle. Once I was safely tucked away I sent out the loudest, most urgent message I possibly could: Ben! They’re here! Where are you???