The Rogue Agent

by Shiloh White

  “Are you ready, Lucy?” Dart asked from the desk. I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded at him. “Okay. Then here we go!” He jabbed away on his keyboard, and then the chair started whirring. My heart beat fast. I heard the helmet slide down onto my head with a screeching hiss. The side of the helmet's cold metal rubbed up against my ear. “Lucy, I want you to close your eyes. The machine will use your emotions to give you a path. All you have to do is follow the path, and you'll end up at your zone. Make sense?”

  “Not really!” I shouted. The machine's whirring was getting louder. I could hardly hear Dart. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wait for something to start, but even if I was, I wouldn't hear Dart tell me. My stomach did a flip as I closed my eyes.

  ✽✽✽

  The sound of the TransPort whirred in my ears. My stomach continued its gymnastics session, making me anxious. Then everything cut out. It was quiet for a second. I felt weightless. The only thing there besides me, was the darkness. Even when I opened my eyes, it was still dark. Then a whirlwind of sounds flooded my mind. Images flashed by with them. Among the images, one stuck longer than the others. I saw a younger me up against my bedroom door, listening to shouting and yelling from down the hallway. It was like an out-of-body experience. I peeked out of my door in time to see him. He stomped his feet down the stairs, and slammed the front door. I ran to the window and peeked out. It was raining, and all I saw were lights. But I did hear the sound of the engine driving away. The memory fast-forwarded to my parents in the kitchen. My dad held my mom as she cried next to their phone. The images sped up. I walked to school the next day, and I kept my head down. All of the other kids whispered and pointed.

  There was an aching feeling in my heart as I watched younger me. Then everything froze around me. I didn't see myself anymore. I was there. I saw all of their faces, whispering rumors about the girl. Her—I mean my—breaths got short, and then I heard a sound like a thousand rubber bands snapping. I felt like I was getting yanked backward. All of the memories played in reverse, and I closed my eyes. I didn't want to relieve them.

  When I opened my eyes, I was leaving school with my brother Lucas. The ache in my heart spread to my chest and it was hard to breathe. I held his hand as we walked down the street. It was his eighteenth birthday, and he was going to get his first car. I got to come with him. The memory was fresh in my mind. I remembered what was going to happen, but I couldn't stop it. My body moved without my control.

  We got to a busy crosswalk, and my stomach sent a wary feeling all over my body. It was familiar to me now, but it felt like I was experiencing it for the first time all over again. It made my hands sweaty and my heart beat fast. There were a lot of people waiting with us. I held Lucas' hand, and hid behind his leg. I looked across the street, and there were plenty of people on that side too. The sign read DON'T WALK in large orange letters. He looked down at me and smiled a warm smile. But something still felt off. Lucas let go of my hand and wiped it on his jeans. I felt embarrassed. It was all the sweat from my hand. All of a sudden, the sign flashed WALK in green letters and I forgot my embarrassment. I reached for his hand again and held it tight as we dove into this sea of people.

  Then something happened I didn't remember. Somebody bumped into me and my hand slid out of his grip. I got separated from Lucas in the mass of people. I tried to catch up with him, but all of the people moving this way and that way around me made me tense up and freeze. I couldn't move. I tried to yell out to Lucas, but no sound came out.

  People continued to walk in every direction around me. I pulled my head down and shoved my hands in my pockets, retreating into myself. But every time I forced myself to try to move again, someone would bump into me and I felt smaller. I felt my throat yell for Lucas again, in the loud intersection. No sound came out of my throat. My body went hot and cold all at once, and began to shiver. I couldn't stop him. Lucas was about to make a huge mistake. But I wouldn't be able to help him.

  Especially not when I realized I was actually shrinking when people bumped into me. A lady pushed past me and I shrunk to half her size. A man bumped into me, and I was now the size of a toddler. A little boy ran into me and I tripped onto the asphalt. He kept going as if I wasn't there. I didn't want to move. My hands were shaking. Chloe, I reminded myself. I forced myself to get up on my hands and knees. As I stared down at the asphalt, light disappeared from around me. I turned around, and realized it wasn't getting darker. It was the shadow of a giant boot coming down on top of me.

  10. Oh, Sorry; I Take A Trip Down Memory Lane

  Giant boot, right?

  Exactly the way I thought I would die too.

  I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I thought about moving out of the way, but there was no use. It would crush me flat no matter where I went. I was too small to get out of the way in time. I instinctively put my hands up to block my face. The boot sounded like a meteor falling as the distance between us closed. Then it jerked to the left with a loud WHOOSH!

  All of a sudden, I felt like I was being stretched apart and squished together all at once. I wanted to throw up, and my body felt as cold as ice.

  “Are you okay?” I heard from somewhere behind me, a pair of hands finding my shoulders. I turned to see Scott standing above me.

  “Come on.” He ushered me forward, out of the crosswalk. Every step we took made me nauseous. I felt like at any second I would start shrinking again, but Scott held my shoulders tight as if he was keeping me from getting smaller.

  We stopped once we reached the street corner, and I bent over to catch my breath. “What...happened?” I asked slowly, between breaths.

  “You had a panic attack.” Scott answered. He looked up and down the street warily.

  “I know I just had a panic attack!” I blurted out. The nerve of this guy. I was almost squished by a boot a second ago, and the one thing he decided to tell me, I already knew.

  “How did I get smaller?” I asked.

  “I told you. You had a panic attack. Here, those have the ability to kill you.” I gave him a look like he was insane, but he couldn't be wrong. I just experienced it.

  “How exactly?” I asked. My breath came back, and I stood up. But I still felt a little shaky, so I leaned against a lamppost.

  “Think of your anxiety as a hallucinogen. Only, it makes the hallucinations real.”

  “You mean if you hadn't shown up and shoved that guy out of the way—”

  “You wouldn't wake up in that chair, Lucy.” He finished my thought. “That would be the end.” I felt myself get hot and cold all over again. I pushed myself off of the lamppost and started pacing in the short sidewalk corner area. “That's absolutely perfect,” my voice dripped with sarcasm. “How so?” Scott asked. He looked around the street again. I wasn't sure what he was hoping to find, but it made me uneasy. I didn't want to answer him. “Uhm,” I started to say, “This was the day my anxiety and I got...really close.” I waited for what felt like forever—which was really more like a few seconds—for him to say something.

  “You mean this Zone is playing out a memory?” He finally asked. I stopped pacing and looked him in the eye. I nodded. “Down to the letter, minus the whole giant boot part. This was the day my brother was going to get his first car.” I looked down the sidewalk. That must have been where he walked off to. It was just a memory. I tried to convince myself that was why he didn't turn around. But it didn't change what happened before.

  Scott closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “As bad as an idea as this all is, that makes things easy.”

  “Easy?” I asked.

  “Easier.” he elaborated. “All we have to do is ride out the memory, and it should lead us right to your Depression.” I gave him a look, and asked,

  “Ride out the memory?”

  “Exactly. We'll just follow where your memory goes. It's pretty simple as long as you don't get caught up in it. It's still a Depression Zone, so you can't trust it.”

  “Let me get this
straight,” I said, rubbing my temples. “You want me to relive the day I met anxiety, with more anxiety because I know what happens this time?” I asked him, just to make sure. If I was right, then it certainly didn't sound like a plan I was willing to go through with.

  “You're the one who was in a rush to save your sister.” Scott shrugged.

  I wondered if it was considered an offense to punch a Depression Force Officer.

  But hitting Scott might mean losing his help. And he did save my life. I sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled. The silent treatment would have to do enough. I shoved my hands-and my anger-into the pockets of my gym shorts and started down the sidewalk past Scott, and toward my past.

  ✽✽✽

  For the first few minutes of silence, my mind played ping-pong with itself. Thoughts bounced around and were gone soon after. Like my brother. I knew he was just a part of this memory. A memory affected by depression. Like Scott said, it couldn't be trusted.

  I stared down the sidewalk at all of the buildings. Even they looked exactly like I remembered them: The recently abandoned blue and purple apartment complex to my left. Across the street from it, the familiar smell of Omar's, Dad's favorite pizza place. And though it was out of view down the street, I knew we were nearing the car dealership, and Lucas too—which meant I would have to either have to convince myself this stuff wasn't real or find myself in another panic attack, which could kill me here—

  Nope. I didn't want that thought ping-ponging around in my head. I glanced back at Scott. The silent treatment was probably bugging me more than him, at this point.

  “So do you have a battle plan for this Depression Agent?” I turned and asked him. He caught up so that we were next to each other on the sidewalk. “What now about a battle plan?” he asked, panting a bit.

  “I want to know how you're going to beat this guy. Last time, the blob of smoke looked like it had the drop on you.” I said with a twinge of sarcasm in my voice. I regretted as soon as it was out.

  Scott seemed to disregard it. Or at least, he didn't sound angry. “Well, it isn't really my job to defeat Depression. The officers at the Depression Force are really there just to—”

  A group of people laughing and talking loudly walked towards us. Scott stopped talking as they moved past us on the sidewalk. I looked up at him, and I could have sworn he was standing a little straighter. His gaze seemed to look past them as we walked, too. Was he trying to intimidate them? Even though they weren't real?

  “—keep depression in check.” Scott finished without missing a beat, looking back down at me. He looked a little surprised to see I was already looking up at him.

  “Er...in check?” I asked, breaking away and looking down the street. I felt like he was messing with my head more than he was helping me understand.

  “Right,” Scott said. “Think about it like a blockade that keeps the Depression in place, so the youth aren't swallowed up by the time they're ready to overcome it. Get it?”

  I nodded. My mind began to race. I wondered if the Depression Force was doing this on everyone's depression. There were a lot of unhappy people in the world. How many gray smoke blobs did that add up to? I looked up at the sky—no, fake sky, trying to imagine a Depression smoke epidemic covering over everything. Couldn't be good for the air out here, I thought to myself with a smile.

  “What's funny about that?” Scott inquired. Sheesh, I thought to myself. I couldn't even make a silent joke to lighten my spirits. I shook my head at him. “You said youth, right?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Right.” He said, and kept walking. After a moment, I realized that was all I would get unless I pushed.

  “Why?” I asked. Scott sighed and cleared his throat. This must have been a subject he wasn't fond of. “The adolescents are the most successful age group. For the most part, we can neutralize their Depression at that point before it becomes a large problem—.” He paused as a couple walked past us. “By the time they become adults, however,” he continued, “they're either strong enough and don't need our help, or they're...”

  Scott got real quiet and gave me a cold empty look. I returned his look with one that said I didn't need an explanation. I might not have understood all this Depression Force business, but I understood what Scott was getting at. I'd lived it with my mother. After Lucas was gone...she was different. It was like there wasn't enough her there to fight her battle. And after that...

  I shook the thought out of my head. Stupid Depression Zone must have been getting to my head.

  “So…you mentioned neutralizing depression. That's where the Handle thing comes in, right?” I asked, pointing to Scott's belt. He nodded.

  “What exactly is that?”

  “It's a user-specific weapon issued to all Depression Force Officers, used to fight off Depression Agents.” he explained promptly, as if he was recalling something he learned in school.

  I nodded, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, sounding a bit annoyed. I wasn't fazed. He'd already saved my life. It would be a step backwards to shut me up now.

  “What makes it user-specific?” I asked, getting a little impatient. Call me cheeky, but it was actually making me irritated that Scott didn't care or think there was more to say.

  “Like the name suggests, it's something to hold onto in the literal face of Depression. Something the person has a strong bond with.” A strong bond. I thought about Lucas, looking down at me with his warm smile.

  I glanced over at Scott. The expression on my face said he already knew what I was about to ask before I opened my mouth: “What's your Handle?” He shook his head. “Lucy, you've been asking an awful lot of questions. Have you forgotten our original goal here?” He sounded more than annoyed now. A little angry, maybe? I probably should have bit my tongue. But I didn't want to back down. “I'm here to save my sister. And in case you've forgotten, this is my twisted memory. I'm pretty sure I know where we're going, see?” I stormed ahead and gestured to a pair of glass doors in front of me. We'd arrived at the car dealership.

  11. I Am Offered My Dead Brother’s Car

  The car dealership was a two-story building with walls made of glass. You could see people having meetings or following employees around the facility. Even the car lot behind the store was visible from the sidewalk. It was a creative building. But it didn't change the fact I wanted nothing to do with it.

  Scott jogged down the sidewalk to meet me. He took a quick glance at the building before he turned to me and asked, “Are you ready to do this?”

  “It's only a memory, right?” I asked sarcastically. Despite trying to keep my cool, I was breathing fast. I started to tap my fingers against my leg to distract myself, as a way to calm down.

  “A memory and a Depression Agent,” Scott answered.

  He reached for the door handle and stepped inside the building, holding the door open for me. I fought the urge to just stand still and let Scott handle everything. But I couldn’t do that. Chloe wouldn’t let me live it down. I let out a deep breath and pushed myself to walk into the building.

  Inside, there were a few people still walking around and sitting at desks with employees, but the air was obvious that the store was closing. I didn't realize it outside, but the sun was going down. It reflected against the glass walls, casting an orange glow over the entire building. It eased my anxiety a little bit, until I remembered why I didn't want to be in this building in the first place. Lucky me, however, because I only had to make it two steps into the place before we were ambushed by an employee shoving a bottle of water at each of us.

  “Why, hello!” the employee said with a bright smile and enough pep for a cheer team. He had a typical “blonde rich boy” haircut and a red-and-white checkered uniform. Forget the cheer team. He could've been captain with his get-up.

  “Welcome to Quality Cars Dealership,” he continued. “My name is Justin the Car Salesman!”

  He sounded like he had rehearsed the message a billion times, but still gave
it all the vigor he had, which must have been a lot, considering he didn't miss a beat. I was half-convinced “Car Salesman” was his real last name. I looked up at Scott, waiting for a signal or something. He rolled his eyes at me and took the water bottle from Justin, and shook his free hand. I took the other bottle, but I didn't shake his hand. Justin the Car Salesman frowned for a second. Then as quickly as it appeared, he reset with a fresh smile and moved on. Like a robot or something. Definitely weird.

  “So, can I interest you fine young individuals in a new car?” Justin the Car Salesman turned to look at the both of us. Scott looked at me with an expression that said, “It’s all yours.” Great, I thought.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My throat felt really dry, and a lump was forming in it. It was taking all I had not to turn around. That would get us nowhere. I cleared my throat and asked, “Do you have anything for a high school graduate?”

  “Of course!” he answered energetically. “Let me show you to the back lot, before it gets dark. The pick of the litter is out that way.” Justin the Car Salesman turned around and gestured for the two of us to follow.

  This time, Scott had to usher me forward. I didn't want to be in this place any longer. My body was already starting to lock up again. He leaned down to say something, but I cut him off.

  “I'm going to lose it,” I whispered.

  “You're doing fine,” he whispered back. “The more we interact with your memory, the more you seem to react to it with anxiety. That could be what we need to get to the Agent.”

  “It better be. I’m starting to hope just socking this guy in the nose will make the anxiety leave.”

  “Right...” Scott said warily. “Let’s not sock anyone in the nose. Causing a commotion could alert the Agent to our being here, and that won’t end well.” I nodded. I may have been a little headstrong, but I wasn't an idiot. As much as I did want to sock this screwed-up Agent in his screwed-up nose for giving me nothing but anxiety, I still wasn't too keen on the possibility of dying here. Scott might have been equipped to handle that part of the job, but I was not.