The Kidnapped Army

by Shiloh White

  “Insanity bullet?” I asked slowly. Hopefully.

  Chug shook his head.

  “It's real,” he said, “I found it in Mr. Reggie's kitchen of all places.”

  What in the world did Mr. Reggie need with real bullets? And why in the kitchen? I wondered if you could even kill a Depression Agent with a bullet. Wouldn't they just burst into smoke?

  “Will that thing even work on you?"

  Chug shut the barrel and twisted the bullet until it was primed for the chamber. “Worth a shot.” he said, giving me his mischievous grin. It looked too sad to belong to him, though.

  “Bad joke.” I said. He shrugged, his eyes down at his gun.

  I realized Woodstock's decision was hurting him way more than it was hurting me. He was joking about this because he was scared. And he was scared because he might be serious about this.

  I held out my hand to him. “Give it here.” I demanded. “Now.”

  “Why should I?” Chug drew the gun closer to his chest. “Do you remember what I said back in De Mentoria, about working for Mr. Reggie?"

  I could only vaguely remember the conversation. Just yesterday, but it felt so long ago. I shook my head.

  “I wanted safety.” Chug said. “In a single day, that all crumbled.” The gun began to tremble in his hand. “That jerk turned his back on us and betrayed us, Damian's still out there, and...Woodstock's gone. So be real, Lucy. What's the point?"

  I snatched the gun from his head and tapped him on the head with it.

  “Ow!”

  “You need to quit with your whole pity party.” I said. “Woodstock is gone, but he saved us. We need...” Gordon's words rushed back to me all at once. But I adopted them as my own. “We need to honor that."

  “How am I supposed to do that?” he asked. I popped the bullet out of the barrel and held Chug's gun out to him.

  “You can fight, for one. You're right that Damian and Takao are still still out there. So in the meantime, the Abandoned need a leader. Someone better than that jerk Takao.”

  Chug's head fell at his friend's name. I realized he'd used that jerk purposefully to avoid saying it.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to—"

  “No, you're right.” Chug said. “Back at the Academy, he told me exactly why he left...” he looked up, and off somewhere into the darkness. “I'm not even sorry for him anymore. All this conflict is being stirred up by Damian, and somehow Takao thinks he's going to find peace in it. You can't find peace in a land of pain.” Chug took his gun from my hand and stood up. “The Abandoned, they deserve to see that."

  “Maybe you can show him where the peace is, too. Somewhere safe and, well, peaceful.” I shrugged.

  “Like this place.” Chug said.

  “Yeah, about that,” I said, “We were here before, with Stark—I recognize the lamppost. But where is here?"

  “This is a hidden Depression Zone.” Chug explained. “Gordon told me this is what Mr. Reggie had him working on."

  “A hidden Depression Zone, huh?” I said. I wasn't gonna pretend to know what that was. But since I didn't expect to even get an answer, I just rolled with it. “When did you have the chance to talk to Gordon about it?"

  “Soon as the rumbling stopped. Said he had this guy Justin's help to do it. Turns out you can learn a lot when you're not passed out.” I chuckled at his sarcasm returning. That was the Chug I remembered.

  “I get it.” I said, rising to my feet. I shoved Chug in the arm on the way up. “Actually, I've got a funny story about Justin. He was one of my Depression Agents—I conquered him a week ago. So how is he here?"

  “Hmm.” Chug scratched his head. “That is a funny story. I've never met him before today. But he's walking this way, so maybe you can ask him yourself."

  I turned and saw Justin coming towards us, and my body tensed up.

  “I also spoke to Dart,” he said in a much smaller voice. It sucked all the progress I thought we made right out of the air.

  “How—how is he?"

  Chug shoved his free hand into his pocket, but said nothing.

  “Is he gonna be okay? Do you know?"

  “I hope so,” he sighed. “We didn't talk long, but he didn't sound so good."

  “What do you mean?” I asked. Chug shook his head.

  “I think maybe...it'll just take time, you know? Like me after Lara's Zone fell apart. The Headmistress messed him up real bad."

  I wanted to ask for more details about what Dart said, but Justin was almost here. I quickly shoved Chug's bullet in my pocket as he reached us. He watched me, but did nothing more than lazily raise his eyebrow.

  “Gordon wants you to join your friends by the lamppost,” he said, “so wrap it up.” Then he walked off back the way he came.

  “What the heck was that?” Chug asked. “You ask me to fight, to lead a gang, and you couldn't even ask one question to a guy you killed yourself?"

  “Back off, alright?” I said. “You just dropped a bomb on me. And hey, I didn't exactly even kill him. He flew out of a crashed car."

  “Right,” Chug said, “and I care about the details.”

  “You'd better go ask him before Gordon leaves.” he said. “What if him being here means—"

  “Don't say it.” I threw a fierce gaze down at him. “I know what you're going to say, and just don't.”

  “Jeez, sorry,” he muttered. “I just—"

  I sighed and shut him up by putting my arm around the small, lanky teenage boy. Then I pulled him into a hug.

  “Thanks for coming to get me.” I said.

  “Anytime you want me to push you out of a window, just let me know.” I let Chug go, giving him another lighthearted shove. He gave me his signature mischievous grin again, and I smiled back. Then I forced myself in the other direction, to the lamppost.

  My feet moved slowly, and I had to fight to keep one moving past the other. I was afraid of leaving Chug here. He was a tough kid, but he'd lost a lot way too soon. I hoped he would be okay.

  I shoved my hand into my pocket and slid my fingers tight around the bullet. It was cold in my grip.

  55. Just Like Old Times, Sort of!

  I slowly shuffled over to the lamppost where Gordon and Halsey were waiting, buying as much time as I could by taking Lionel's cloak.

  Dart lay unconscious over Gordon's shoulder. Halsey had a barely-conscious Scott leaning against her, and her flushed face made me wonder how close she was from passing out. Or maybe she was just real upset at me for letting him get stabbed.

  “How is he?” I forced myself to ask. Surprisingly, Halsey didn't shut me out.

  “He'll live, but not for long if he doesn't get professional help.”

  I bit my lip. Suddenly the ground looked a lot better than facing Halsey's eyes.

  “Can he survive a subway ride back?” Gordon asked, shifting Dart's weight.

  “I think so,” Halsey said, “why?"

  “I can't directly Zone-Hop into the Depression Force headquarters, for obvious reasons. I'm sure you understand.” Gordon answered. Halsey nodded. “But I'll take you as far as the subway station in the Square.”

  It took me a moment longer to make the same connection: Gordon was a Depression Agent. As nice as he was, they would probably still find a way to label him the enemy. Stupid Depression Force.

  “Either way, your help is greatly appreciated.” Halsey said. “I'll try to put in a word with the Lieutenant about you.”

  Gordon gave a slight bow and said, “That won't be necessary. My boss works in a discreet manner. Letting us know about this was more than enough. He requires nothing else."

  “We'd better hurry then,” she said. “Lucy, are you ready?” Halsey called my name a second time before I actually heard her. I realized the thought of the Depression Force was making me scowl. I wiped the look off my face and nodded at her.

  “Grab an arm,” Gordon said, “and hold on tight."

  “Hold on a sec there, Gordon.” Justin said be
hind me, and snatched Lionel's cloak out of the crook of my arm.

  “Hey!” I said. “What are you—"

  “Helping,” Justin answered. “Again. I figured you'd be used to it by now.”

  I turned and glared at him. “We don't need people thinkin' you're an Agent anymore,” he continued, “so I'll hold this."

  Before I could protest, Gordon Zone-Hopped us away and Justin was nothing more than an after-image on my vision.

  ✽✽✽

  We reappeared at the subway, where Gordon helped us get Dart and Scott on board safely. Since the train was going to Depression Force HQ, there were little to no other passengers, letting us take as long as we needed.

  Just before he left, I thought to ask him about where Justin came from.

  “The first time we met,” Gordon said, “was when the boss said we'd be working together. He didn't talk much about his past. In fact, he was pretty impatient. He preferred just to work. I didn't mind the silence. If I would have known he was that important to you, I would have asked some questions."

  I told him it wasn't a problem. Even though it wasn't much help, I thanked Gordon. I didn't want him to think I was ungrateful for everything he'd already done. It would've been selfish of me to expect more from him.

  After he Zone-Hopped away, I joined Halsey on the subway. The moment I found a seat, the whole train lurched forward and took off. Halsey held Scott steady, then after the train leveled out, let him lay down on a row of seats. He said nothing, but winced as Halsey set him down. I looked away as my stomach did a guilt-filled flip.

  Dart lay unconscious a few seats away from me completely out of it. Being brainwashed must take a lot out of a person. My eyes bounced around the room until they found Halsey's. Her hazel eyes looked back at me questioningly, and I looked away to keep them from finding answers. I knew I should say something. I should apologize for Scott. I should have done something for him. I should have saved—

  “Hey.” Halsey placed her hands on top of mine. This let me know I'd been digging them into my knees. I also realized I hadn't taken a breath in the last six seconds. “Scott's alive. Thank you."

  My hands started to relax a little, but the second I did, this sense of panic rose up in my chest. I pulled my hands away and started to breathe faster.

  “But look at him.” I said. “What if he doesn't make it? I promised you I'd—"

  “Bring them back,” Halsey finished. “You promised me you would bring them back, and here they are. So stop beating yourself up over it."

  “I'm not beating myself up.” I lied. Halsey smirked and raised an eyebrow.

  “Would you like a mirror?"

  I let out a deep breath and a smile cracked onto my face. I snuffed it out, but I was thankful Halsey wasn't angry at me.

  “Sorry,” I said, “it's been a crazy day."

  “I agree,” Halsey said, “It's been stressful all around.” Halsey leaned back in her seat and in the subway lights, I could see the lines on her face a little clearer. She looked drained of sleep, and there was red in her eyes like she'd been staring at something for a long time. Or like she'd been crying.

  Of course it'd been stressful for her. How selfish of me was it to whine about saving Scott, when she'd just spent all that time trying to patch him up?

  I reached into my art bag and rummaged around until I found a green paintbrush. Then I got up from my seat and knelt down in front of Scott. Halsey leaned forward in her seat as I removed the brush from its canister.

  “What are you doing?

  “The last time I was here,” I said, placing the brush against Scott's skin, “this color healed my ankle."

  “You think it'll work on him?”

  “The brush was also floating and painting by itself then, so I have no clue. But it's worth a shot.” I allowed my hand to guide the brush into a wide circle around his injury and the bandages. I finished and capped the paintbrush, then returned to my seat and held my breath. The paint sat awkwardly on his chest and stomach, unmoving.

  “Is it supposed to just sit there?” Halsey asked. I sighed and shoved the green paintbrush back into my bag.

  “I don't know.” I answered.

  “It was worth a shot,” Halsey said, “so thank you. I just wish...” she looked over at him and shut her eyes tight. “I wish I could have done a little more to help him. Or you guys.”

  Now it was my turn to encourage Halsey. I smiled as the words just flowed into my head. For once, I knew exactly what to say.

  “You know,” I told her, “without you, we'd still be back at HQ. Scott wouldn't be here, either. And on top of that, Disorder would be free. I think you did a lot more than you realize. Especially with your advice on my Handle."

  Halsey blushed, her pale skin turning a bright red.

  “It really wasn't a lot.” she said, “I mean, you guys were right in the middle of it. I just stood by and watched it happen."

  “Watched it happen? If you didn't get everyone to show up when they did, we would've been goners.” That realization sat in my mind for an extra moment, and a question blossomed from it. “Actually, just how did you get them to show up?” I asked. “Gordon said you got info to Mr. Reggie, but how did you even find his restaurant on your own?"

  “The moment I got off the subway in De Mentoria,” Halsey said, “which was originally just a place I went to hide from HQ until you guys were safe, Gordon came and brought me to him. I thought I was being abducted, but Mr. Reggie just wanted to see what I knew about you guys."

  “And?” I asked. “What'd you say?"

  “I told him everything you guys told me, along with everything I found out from The Lieutenant. Mr. Reggie said since he didn't get an update from you or your team, he would reach out to Gordon the others to do what they could to help. I insisted that I be allowed to come too. After all, I was—and probably still am—screwed after I pulled at HQ. But even on the subway ride to De Mentoria, I saw a big dark shadow looming in the general direction of the Academy. I knew you guys were in some sort of trouble, and I wanted to help."

  Halsey folded her arms and a scowl burst from her calm face.

  “Except that Justin guy,” she said, “he tried to convince the others that I was still working undercover for the Depression Force."

  Every time his name came back up, the mystery that was Justin got more confusing. What reason did he have to deny Halsey's help? Was he afraid the Depression Force would find out what I knew—that he was alive?

  “He claimed I planned to turn you and the Agents in after we saved you.” Halsey said. “That I'd do it for a chance to return to the Depression Force."

  “Would you?” I asked without thinking. I bit down on my tongue, wishing I could pull the question back.

  “As if. The team Mr. Reggie's got going on here, it's not the Depression Force, but it's really cool. Plus, they had your back the whole time,"—Halsey looked out the window above me and the offended on her face changed to one of bitterness—"which is more than I can say for the Depression Force.”

  I wished I could comfort her. Tell her that even though the Depression Force didn't help, she did. One Officer helped more than the many others who chased me away until I was dangling off a subway train. But then Halsey continued, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

  “Thankfully, Mr. Reggie agreed to let me go. They told me Gordon planned to Zone-Hop a piece of this abandoned Depression Zone into the Academy. They didn't know if it would work, and that it definitely wasn't safe. And he was right. As we got close, one of Disorder's tremors shook us so hard that I let go and fell into the Dust."

  Halsey laughed a little at the thought, but I swear I saw a glimpse of fear in her eyes.

  “That's why I didn't see you with them in the Zone at first, wasn't it?” I asked. Halsey nodded.

  “Yep. Gordon came back after barely a second, but it was long enough to think I was going to die out there.”

  I remembered my first time coming to the Depression Fo
rce, I'd tried to escape and almost ran right out into the Dust. Scott had said then that it would pretty much turn you inside out from your emotions and suck you dry like a raisin. Maybe that was why the lines on her face looked like she was sleep-deprived. Halsey had actually gotten the emotions sucked out of her.

  “Once I got there, I helped him pull the pile of Agents into the Zone until the ground began to crack.” I wavered in my seat when she mentioned the ground cracking. My eyes fell to the floor, looking through it as the memory replayed in my head. Dart's hand in Woodstock's, his hand in mine, and how I couldn't lift him back to safety.

  “I didn't know Woodstock,” Halsey said, “but when I broke him out of his cell, I showed him where the exit door was. Told him he could Zone-Hop from there. But he wouldn't go without you two. He said he wasn't going to abandon his friends again."

  I tried to thank her, but I got choked up. I couldn't stop the next couple tears from falling. Halsey smiled and pulled me into a hug.

  She sacrificed her job to help two boys that were supposed to be enemies and a girl she'd only met once escape from her boss' custody. From there, she only helped more. Anger bubbled inside me that what she did would brand her a traitor. Without her, Disorder would have risen and none of us would be alive now.

  “It's gettin' real sappy over there,” a voice chuckled behind us. Halsey and I broke our hug and a smile spread across her face. “Where are we?"

  “The paint worked!” I shouted. Halsey slowly walked over to Scott as he made the painful-looking choice to sit up.

  “Is that what this is?” he asked. “Thanks, Lucy. Where's"—Scott coughed violently into his hand, flinging a small fleck of blood onto it—"Where's Dart?"

  Halsey's face went pale at the sight of Scott coughing up blood. “You need to rest.” she told him.

  “What's the worst that could happen?” Scott asked. He scanned the subway train and saw Dart laying on the row of chairs across from him. “Is he..."

  “He's alive.” I promised. “Now listen to Halsey."

  “Thanks, Lucy.” Halsey said, and then looked at Scott. “For your information, the worst that could happen is that you could die before we get home."