The Rogue Agent

by Shiloh White

  For an instant, I thought was alone in the Zone. But that thought quickly passed when I heard a chuckle that sent a chill down my spine and through my whole body.

  “You really should have heeded my warning. All it takes is one moment. Remember, Lucy?”

  I slowly back up at the spot where Lucas had fallen. There in his neon green suit and his bright purple tie, along a crazy grin on his face, stood Damian.

  44. …And Three—No, Four Kicks To The Chest (Oh, And A Crushed Ankle)

  I couldn’t get a handle on the world around me. It felt like a DVD playing that was skipping scenes. I didn’t notice my paint whip had fallen back to my side. The moment the tip of the whip hit the ground, the grayness sucked all of the paint out of it. I also didn’t realize I was moving until Damian was a few more steps away from me. Unsure whether I was starting to lose it, Damian was toying with me, or the urge to vomit from seeing his outfit, I was backing away from him.

  I only stopped when I realized I was walking away from Lucas, too. I glanced down at him, sprawled on the ground. His eyes were closed. The back of his cloak was dark and wet. Was it blood? I didn’t see it wisping around like it did when I kicked him.

  “Wh-what did you do to him?” I demanded, trying my hardest not to show any fear.

  “He’s not dead,” Damian sighed. I looked up at him. He pulled out his handkerchief and began cleaning a small black knife. “Or at least, not yet, anyway.” he added, giving me that crazy grin again. Update: it wasn’t only the suit that made me want to vomit. His grin was making me just as nauseous. I forced down the urge and gripped my paintbrush. I knew full well it wouldn’t do much good if Damian made a move. The moment I tried to put more paint on the brush would be the moment he'd freeze me in my tracks with fear.

  “How did you get in if the Zone’s entry points were already closed?” I asked.

  Damian took a step towards me, placing his handkerchief back in his shirt pocket. “Have you heard of Dormant Zones, Lucy?”

  I nodded swiftly.

  “Oh, wonderful,” Damian clapped his hands together, holding the black knife tight between his palms. “I don't suppose you know how they come about, too?”

  I shook my head. Dart briefly mentioned something about my Zones going Dormant, but that was all I knew on the topic. Damian sighed and rubbed his temples, expertly avoiding giving himself a new haircut with the black knife.

  “Can't wish for everything, I suppose.” he said. “So I'll explain. Dormant Zones become that way because of the adolescent’s neglect. Through ignorance, they turn dominion over everything inside the Zone to the Depression Agent. But then, the Agents have nothing more to do, so the Zone just lies there as the Agents sap the adolescent for their whole life. A dominant, but truly boring cycle. These Zones prove a much better use for my old friend.” Damian paced back over to Lucas and knelt down, shaking his head. “Lucas here wanted to keep this Zone all for himself, though. Shame on him.”

  What was he getting at?

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. “My Zone awoke after I beat the other two.” Damian chuckled again, and I shivered. I was getting real sick and tired of why his laugh did that to me.

  “No, Lucy, it awoke because your brother woke it up. But only enough for him”—he pointed down at Lucas with his knife—”to be in control of it.”

  My heart skipped a beat waiting for Damian to do something to my brother. But instead, he pulled his knife back and began to pace around Lucas. “It’s a shame he couldn’t control it enough to keep me out.”

  “Keep you out? What reason would Lucas have for that? Aren’t you two partners?”

  Damian let out a laugh that made my hair stand on end. He stopped and looked up at me, twirling his knife in his fingers. Beads of sweat slid down the sides of my head, but I didn’t look away. His whole vibe was changing to one of intimidation.

  “You ask a lot of questions, but I don’t think you realize you have plenty of answers already,” he said. “However, I do wish I would have figured it out sooner.”

  “Figured out what?” I asked. Damian put his hand on his head and sighed impatiently. “You really don’t get it, do you? Lucas would have had to have been checking up on you to even know about your Zones. Everything Lucas has been doing was for your sake.”

  I looked down at Lucas lying unconscious, and regret washed over me. It meant everything about that Voice; his suicide...”It was all true...” I whispered to myself.

  “I figured it out when I noticed Lucas’ plan had so many runaround steps in it. He convinced me they were 'direct instructions' from our old friend.”

  “The Voice?” I said quietly.

  “Is that what he called it?” Damian inquired. Apparently I wasn’t quiet enough. He shook his head, as if to fling the thought from his mind. “No matter. I knew he'd actually spoken to our old friend before, so despite my hate for wild goose chases, I went along with Lucas’ plans.” He looked down at Lucas, shaking his head. “At each moment, he managed to keep you out of my reach. First he dropped you off at that teleporting restaurant before I could get to you!” his voice was calm a moment ago, so it took me an extra moment to process when Damian yelled and angrily launched a kick at Lucas’ stomach.

  “I was...rather upset, to say the least. By the time I realized you’d made it to the Depression Force, you’d already conquered your first Zone!” He kicked Lucas again, who must have regained consciousness after the first kick, because he tried to roll over to protect himself as the second kick came at him. But his strength must have been nonexistent. He barely managed to rock his body a little before Damian connected with his side with a sickening crack. Lucas coughed up blood onto the ground. Damian must have broken something; a rib, maybe.

  “Leave him alone!” I yelled, reaching into my pocket for the canister. I took my second of Damian's distraction to put fresh paint on my paintbrush. Then I pulled it out and flung it at him. Damian turned to me, but when he saw the whip coming, he didn't flinch at all. All he did was wag his finger and the whip stopped in place. I wasn't going to let that stop me, though. I ran at him, hoping to maybe knock the knife out of his hand with a close-range paintbrush attack. Instead, something gripped my leg and I fell to the ground.

  Plus side of falling: I succeeded in keeping my paintbrush hand above ground and getting sucked up by the grayness. Minus side: I hit the ground face-first.

  I looked down to see what grabbed me and saw a tendril of the grayness coming up from the ground had wrapped itself around my ankle. I struggled to get to my feet, keeping my gaze on Damian. Halfway up, he squeezed his hand into a fist and I could only think straight for a moment to wonder why he did it. Then the grayness wrapped tighter and tighter around my ankle until I felt something snap.

  I cried out in pain and anger, making a sound I won’t try to recreate for you. All the energy felt sapped from my body, and I sank back down to the ground.

  “Please be patient this time,” Damian said, “because I wasn’t finished.” As pissed as I was at this guy, I could barely move at all. I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. On top of that, black blotches covered my vision. I was probably inches away from losing consciousness, thanks to the pain.

  “I had to remodel my whole plan,” Damian continued, “and you wouldn’t believe how upset I was when I found out Lucas instructed my underlings to poison that ridiculous Depression Force Officer instead of you!” He kicked Lucas again, landing his foot hard in his stomach again. He groaned, and made an effort to move his hands to cover his stomach, but his hands hardly moved.

  “Then he had the gall to blame that bit on me!” Damian continued, raising his voice. “And for what? Just so he could get into your second Zone and warn you? You didn’t even listen! Useless!” Another kick flew into Lucas. He didn’t look good at all now. His body was fading in and out of view, switching between a solid body and swirling smoke.

  “Stop it—” I croaked. Damian was all fired up now, though. He
yelled right over me. “He put me through all of this, just to come to your Zone alone and betray me altogether. It wasn’t you and your Depression Force buddies that kept me out. It was Lucas, hiding the Zone from my view. But he underestimated me.” He went to kick Lucas again, but stopped just shy of his back—the wet spot where I’m guessing Damian stabbed him moments before. “I almost forgot to mention...” he reached down into Lucas’ cloak and pulled out a small black and brown bag. I gasped.

  “My art bag. How—”

  “Consider it the proverbial last straw,” Damian interrupted. He unlatched the clip that kept the bag shut, and I watched him turn the bag upside down. “No...” I said, reaching out to grab my bag. He was way too far away, and all I could do was watch as he dumped the full contents of my bag into the grayness. All my paints and brushes.

  “He stole this right before he came,” Damian explained. “He’s definitely a rogue Agent. His loyalties weren’t to Depression at all. He was even planning to bring your Handle back! The only thing he did right was taking Chloe.” It took all of my energy, but I forced myself up to my feet—err, my good foot at least. “Where is she?” I demanded. Damian shook his head.

  “There always was something instinctively blinding about family. You always miss crucial details when it comes to them. Like the fact that your foot is broken, and you stand because I mention your sister. Distractions if you ask me,” Damian chuckled to himself, “just like you were for your brother. Perfect outlet for depression.” Distractions? Blinding? Perfect outlet for depression? How could he speaking this way about family? With every word he spewed, I just got more and more angry.

  “I can see you still don’t understand where I’m coming from, so feel free to ask your Lieutenant about it. Or, you’d be able to if I planned to let you go right now.”

  Then his demeanor changed. He laughed to himself, like he knew something I didn’t. “First, though, I need your help.”

  45. I Give The Lunatic A Hand

  “You need my help?” I repeated. “You said I was a distraction. And if that’s false, what about Chloe, huh? What did you do with—” I bit my tongue. Not out of fear or anything, but because Damian started to make a fist and the grayness squeezed my already-broken ankle, and I clamped down to shut up. Damian opened his hand, and the pressure released.

  “I know it sounds crazy,” Damian said, waving my empty art bag around, “but all the best things do. Anyway,” he shooed my bag in midair like he was hurrying the conversation along, “do you remember the old friend I was just talking about? Your brother called him the Voice in his head or something?”

  I slowly nodded. Whatever he wanted could not end well if it involved this “old friend”. “Oh, great, you know him!” Damian cheered and clapped his hands together, dropping my art bag onto the ground. “Oh,” Damian looked down and realized he dropped the bag. He slid it over next to Lucas, and looked back up at me.

  “Bear with me; I’m rather excited about this part.” What did he mean by that? And did he really think of all gestures, kicking my empty art bag around was going to help make me cooperate?

  “You see, my friend has done a lot for me here in the Dust, so I try to help him however I can. He’s been weak for a long time and is almost always half asleep because of it. He needs to take in a lot of sustenance to wake up. Depression, to be exact.”

  “He devours Depression?” I asked, sort of blurting out all at once. I didn’t know if he was absorbing it like a Depression Agent or something else, but I wasn’t fond of meeting this friend. Damian said he was weak, but if Lucas was under his control now, it sounded like weak was enough to make a difference.

  “Yes, he does,” Damian answered, still with excitement loud and clear in his voice. “Dormant Zones are especially helpful, because they’re practically straws connected to the emotions of the owner of the Zone.”

  “So, what, you want my Dormant Zone?” I asked. “Gimme my sister back and I’d be glad to give it to you.”

  “So quick to jump to conclusions,” Damian pointed out, “but not a problem. You see, Lucy, there’s something that helps to give my friend even more energy than Dormant Zones. Enough energy to get him really close to waking up. Lucas over there actually made the most recent contribution. I’m pretty sure he just needs one last push.”

  “Don’t do it...” Lucas muttered from the ground. My heart skipped a beat. He was still alive down there. Damian did a number on him with those kicks, and after stabbing him in the back? I was glad to hear his voice. Damian had the opposite feeling about him.

  “You’re still alive down there? You could at least have the decency to shut up!” he yelled. Then he looked back at me, the giddy gleam in his eye rivaling that of a child. “So are you interested?” I looked down at the black knife he’d been cleaning, and put the pieces together.

  “You want me to commit suicide,” I said. “Become a Depression Agent, and somehow your old friend will come back?” Damian grinned at me, probably out of amusement watching the gears turn in my head. “That’s it,” he said, clasping his hands together, knife and all. “So, do we have a deal?”

  “There’s no way I’m doing that.” I said. I felt the boldness rise in my chest. Although, it could have been stupidity. This guy easily crushed my ankle with a small bit of grayness. We were surrounded by the stuff.

  “You know,” Damian said with a creepy grin, “I was hoping you’d say something like that, because I brought in a little bit of initiative.” He snapped his fingers. A piece of the grayness between us swirled upward and around in a circle, spinning like an inverse tornado. The current threatened to pull in my hair, whipping it around until I was spitting it out of my mouth. Damian snapped his fingers again and just as quickly as it appeared, the cloudy tornado morphed into a thin translucent box. When I saw what was inside, all the boldness left my system and my heart sank.

  Chloe sat inside the box, on her hospital bed. I looked on in horror as most of her body had turned to fog and smoke around her.

  “If you still want to save your sister...” Damian said, walking around the box and up to me. He flipped the knife in his hand, and held out the handle to me. “...then this is how you’ll do it.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Chloe,” I whispered. She didn’t hear me. I found myself reaching for the knife and quickly pulled the hand back.

  “I know it’s a scary thought, but it’ll be alright. Here, I’ll help you.” Damian said. He lifted his left hand up, drawing each of his fingers slowly into his palm. I felt the grayness respond to him, sliding up my body from my ankle. It seemed to sap my energy as it went, until it reached my hand. It slid through the grip on my yellow paintbrush, forcing it out of my hand and into the ground beneath me.

  “I—”

  “It won’t be difficult, you know,” Damian said, “and it definitely won’t take long. After all, my friend’s already been sapping the energy out of this Zone. That’s where that weak feeling of yours is coming from. Just think of it as his encouragement to you.” I didn’t fully understand what Damian was explaining, but I knew I felt weak. Part of me just wanted to lie down. Then Damian handed the knife to me, and the grayness closed my fingers around it. A tear fell down my face.

  I looked down at Lucas lying on the ground. All of this went downhill the moment he crashed; first his life and now mine. If I didn’t do something, Chloe’s would be next. On the other hand, I could see no way I was getting out of here. I looked up into the gray nothing above me and felt my arm bringing the small black knife closer to my chest. I had to save Chloe...right?

  But a feeling inside of me resisted. I looked down at my arm, trying to pull the knife away. I was in a tug of war with Damian’s power and the fog. This wasn’t the way I would save my sister. I had to make sure of that. Damian made a deep sound of anger—almost like a growl.

  “You might have the luxury of hesitating, but your sister doesn’t the luxury of time,” he said impatiently. “It’s a simple t
rade; Chloe for you. The decision wasn’t hard for Lucas when he was saving you.” I gasped, and like that, my hold on my arm and the knife started to sleep.

  What did he just say? I looked down at where Lucas was laying, but he was gone. Did he—...did Depression Agents just fade out of existence when they died or something? Would doing this really turn me into a Depression Agent? Didn’t Scott say something about dying in my Zone? Part of me had an overwhelming urge to throw that worry away. But I began to think about what Damian said; Lucas did this to save me. But, that couldn’t have worked if I was here in danger. So how could the same plan work to save Chloe? Would I really be saving her, or putting her on the exact path I was already on because of Lucas? There had to be another way.

  Don’t bother, I thought to myself.

  No! I didn’t think that. It must have been Damian’s power. I stuck strong to the small feeling inside of me, and pushed back against my arm. But Damian’s power was still beating out my strength. Between the fight with Lucas, my broken ankle, and this grayness surrounding me, I probably couldn’t hold out much longer.

  “With every second you resist, your sister gets closer to being a Depression Agent.” Damian taunted.

  “If I do this, Chloe won't have a sister anymore...” I argued with what little energy I could muster. I hoped for something, anything to get out of this mess. But there was nothing I could do. My ankle was broken, for one. And my paintbrushes were both gone. I had nothing to fight back with. Dart told me to hold tight to my Handle, and I'd let it all go. I stared up into Damian’s crazy green eyes, figuring I could manage that much. But they stared back at me hungrily, as if I were a meal they were waiting to devour, and I had to look away.