Chapter 2

The first few months of school passed mostly uneventfully. Some of our old friends came back to surprise us, but then things started picking up and the few that had stayed in the city became too busy for pleasantries. Soon it became a flurry of portfolios and essays and lots of paper. The few that were left in maths and sciences were slowly losing their minds over concepts I couldn’t even pronounce. But let’s be honest, what writer doesn’t have a little trouble pronouncing words? We can read them, not speak them. I didn’t think twice about the peace, too wrapped up in words and paper to worry about the fact that some of the villains like Heathen and Genocide hadn’t reared their ugly heads since that fire in the beginning of the year.

“I’m home,” I called, walking into the orphanage. I heard little feet charging forwards and the familiar face of little Mason showed from around the corner. I smiled when I saw him and dropped down to one knee, opening my arms wide. 

“Neth!” He said, running full force into me. I almost fell backwards, not expecting that much weight behind his little body. I usually stay at the cave during the summers, being First Respondent. It’s easier for me, but I miss the little ones too much. Helen, the woman who ran this orphanage, had her son during the summer, and named him Jason. I only got to meet him a couple times, but now that I had officially moved back to the orphanage I’ll be able to help out much more. The older ones, me Nellie and Noah helped Helen a lot. She can’t afford to pay any staff so we do what we can.

It doesn’t help that no couples adopt any of us, and that we got a new kid. His name is Emmett, and he’s a year old. He likes Noah especially, and Cassie. Cassie is part of the middle aged kids, she’s seven. There’s also Oliver, Owen, and the twins, Eden and Elliot. Ophelia and Kimberly, more fondly known as Lia and Lee respectfully, just graduated the middle aged kids and now are officially part of the older kids. They liked the status at first, until they realised all the responsibility that came along with it. 

Go figure.

I pick Mason up and walk towards the kitchen, wondering where everyone is. The answer is the kitchen. When I walk in they’re all gathered there, standing around a cake.

“Surprise!” They yelled, setting off some confetti poppers and tooting small horns. My smile broadened. 

“What’s all this for?” I put Mason down and he runs to Helen. I put my arms around the twins as the run up and latch onto a leg each.

“We decided today was your random birthday, since you still haven’t told us when it is.” Helen explained. She turned to the cake and started dividing up the pieces between all of us, and Nell grabbed the ice cream from the freezer, scooping it out. I love this messy family of mine, and I wouldn’t trade them in for anything. 

That night I thought a lot about my real family. My birth family. Of small eyes, dark curly hair, white teeth, small fingernail. Small clothes, soft mornings with sunlight peeking through the window and giggles. Of pillow fights and strawberries and stargazing and then came the hiding. The fear, the anger. The long game of hide and seek where if we’re found we’d be dead. Of hushed whispers and angry looks and fear and fear and fear and hiding. Then, the calm. The calm before the storm. Slight giggles coming out again, strawberries, bright clothing. Then lightning. Pain and hurting and smoke and fire and heat and screaming and dying.

I hadn’t realized I had started crying until I felt them dripping down my cheeks and onto my legs. I slowly shifted, body getting smaller, skin getting darker, pink in some areas, patches of hair growing where it could. And no vision. Blackness. Empty. Dark. Afraid.

Nothing.

. . .

School was going well, surprisingly. I was still First Respondent, but the villains weren’t doing much. There were a couple incidents with Peculiar, but other than that, it was quiet. It drew suspscions, even the civilians were becoming wary. Everyone was tense and on edge. This prompted a meeting with the Director, which unfortunately occurred during the middle of our Induction Briefing.

The Director has impeccable timing.

He made it a Seniors Only meeting, which of course drew even more questions. “Listen up people,” the Director said, sitting in Waya’s seat. I refused to sit in my seat, still harboring a deep hatred for the man behind all my pain and suffering, and the others followed my lead. “The villains are too quiet, we need to do something. I want you to arrange a strike team, use whoever you want, I don’t care.”

I snorted, not surprised. I wasn’t quiet either. He looked at me with barely concealed annoyance. We were always butting heads, but never like this. It was always passive aggressive. “Something you’d like to add, Chameleon?” He asked, not expecting me to answer. But he pissed me off this time, with his apathy. 

“Yes, actually,” I snapped. I heard Waya sigh and ignored him, feeling Aella’s wind reassuringly on the back of my neck. “These are people’s lives, show some respect. We are not toy soldiers you can throw at a problem and everything will be fixed. Treat us properly, because if you give an order for a strike and one of us gets injured then it’s on you.” I was breathing heavily and felt Houdini squeeze my shoulder lightly, telling me

that they were all behind me. Literally and figuratively. 

The Director was now angry, good. He’s stupid when he’s angry. He stood up, re buttoning his jacket and took a few steps towards us. I stiffened my posture, knowing better than to relax. Our fight was just getting started. “Don’t pretend to know better than me, girl.” He spat the last word, and my temper flared. How dare he.

“Don’t pretend to care more for these people, boy,” I retorted. He looked taken aback. He was younger than he looked, and nobody but the two of us knew that. He opened his mouth to yell at me but I held up a hand, effectively shutting him up. “You’ve never cared for the welfare of those who joined your company. You didn’t even want to pay them at first. I had to force you to.”

I heard a could gasps behind us and slightly regretted exposing that. Then I was filled with more rage. How dare he still be in charge after all these years? He and his Scientist walk around like they are kings, not caring for the people who do everything for them.

“We risk our lives every time we go out there, protecting you, might I add.” I jabbed a finger at his chest and watched as his eyes lit up with metaphorical fire. 

He lifted his head the the ceiling and said “Computer, erase Chameleon from database.” I scoffed, and crossed my arms, waiting for the computer to respond. 

“Unable to erase Chameleon. You don’t have a high enough security clearance.” The Director looked shocked, then angry again. 

“Enter Thomas, Ryan K.” There was a ding, and the computer waited for the next order. “Erase Chameleon.” That still wasn’t going to work.

“Unable to erase Chameleon. You don’t have a high enough security clearance.” 

I swooped in, my plan in action. My plan that I came up with three seconds ago. It’s a great plan. “Computer,” I said loudly and clearly. Everyone looked at me. “Erase Thomas, Ryan K.”

“Thomas, Ryan K. AKA the Director, erased.” I looked at the Director with an eyebrow raised. 

“How dare you-!” he sputtered. His face was slowly turning purple and he finally lost control and charged at me, fists raised. 

“Computer, intruder alert!” I called out, scrambling backwards. The alarm went off and a section of the floor opened up and swallowed him whole. The floor resealed itself and the alarm turned off. “Computer, add Thomas, Ryan K. AKA the Director to database.” I turned around to face the others and was met by shocked expressions all around. “What?” I asked.

Waya sighed again and Aella started cracking up. “You can’t just un-add the Director to prove a point Cammie,” Starbright said, dropping her head into her hands. I could see her shoulders shaking and knew I wasn’t in too much trouble. Legion snickered and held up his hand for a high five. I looked over at Houdini and she was just standing there shaking slightly from laughter. Geronimo wiped away a few tears then took her seat. We still had a meeting to sort through.

“Okay okay guys,” Waya said, taking his rightful place in his seat. “Let’s get to business. We do have to do something about the villains.” We all sobered up pretty quickly. I didn’t want to do this, but I knew they were planning something. At least Waya actually cared about our lives. 

. . . 

My heart hummed in my chest, beating a tune too fast to hear properly. The meeting was sombre, we knew there were going to be problems. That’s why it’s a Seniors only mission. Waya, Aella, Houdini, Legion, Me, Starbright and Geronimo. Just the original seven, minus Swallow. Oh god, Swallow. I haven’t thought about him in so long. Swallow was one of the first heroes inducted into the Agency. He was actually the first person that realised that I lived in the cave. Swallow was a kind soul, so so kind, and he was stolen away from us too soon. He ended up being one of Genocide’s victims, that time it was everyone named Matthew. 

It hit Legion the hardest. Poor Kevin, he was best friends with Matthew since they were really little. It was hard on all of us really, us and the outside world. They had built us up like gods, and then when Matthew died they lost a little bit of faith in us. That was two years ago now, when we were on a similar mission. You see why I got so mad now? The Director doesn’t care, he never has and he never will. 

I make my way to the Training Pit, and settle myself on the edge, my legs dangling over. I leaned back on the palms of my hands, tilting my head up the the ceiling. All I could was think. Think about a lot of things. Like how devastated Kevin was when we found Matthew’s body. Genocide’s victims don’t have any telltale marker. They look like they’re sleeping. But all Aella or I could do was stand in horror as Kevin wailed and sobbed into his dead best friend’s body.

I never want to see that again. I felt anger well up inside me again. Anger for so many different things. Anger at my friends, for not knowing how lucky they are, angry at the civilians I vowed to protect, for building us up so high and not catching us when we fell, and at the Director. Anger at the Director for taking advantage of young kids, because that’s what they are; kids. Legion is barely in his twenties, Geronimo is still in high school. Hell I’m still in high school. Anger at him for wanting us to do this for free, for thinking that we would sacrifice our bodies with no promise of compensation for our families. 

Anger for murdering my entire family. Heat and smoke and pain and tears flood my senses. I can’t hear, I can’t feel, I can’t see. I realise I’m having a panic attack and try to slow my breathing. It doesn’t work.

Martha finds me however later it is, curled up in a ball violently sobbing into my arms. She says nothing, knowing at this point that I get panic attacks. She gathers me up in her arms, rocking me back and forth, taking long deep breaths. I force myself to match her pace. I feel everything, my toes, my calves, my hip digging into my best friend, my shoulders, my eyebrows slowly relaxing. I feel her hand in my hair, I hear her voice speaking. I couldn’t hear the words but I could hear the soft drone and knew she was telling me one of her stories, just filling the silence. 

Slowly my breathing evened out and my tears dried. I gently uncurled myself from her and leaned into her side. We sat there, side by side, thinking and hating and wishing and hoping.