CHAPTER 8

135 25 25
                                    

Kayla and I run across the manicured lawn, sneaking along next to a row of sculpted shrubs that creates a natural privacy barrier between the front and back of the museum property. The city named the Blumenbach Natural History Museum after Johann Friedrich Blumenbach, a historic figure who first labeled the wooly mammoth with its scientific name, Elephas Mammonteus, Latin for the "first elephant". But the museum's curator, Vivian Payne, made it clear on my first day of employment who funds the exhibits and the facility, and maintains the grounds... the city, specifically the council members, and ultimately, the mayor himself.

As she explained, that means everything we do at the museum, including every discovery and display, has to be set up and maintained with the utmost care, as if the city council is peeking over our shoulders and critiquing our every move. That includes my behind-the-scenes task of rifling through the most trivial of relics, cataloguing them in alphabetical order, and storing them away in boxes, filing cabinets, and on dusty shelves. Though I carry out my job in the basement, with no windows and no spotlight, I must treat it like I'm handling the most prized possessions of ancient history.

Because I work after hours, I'm given access to the back door.

With the snow tapering off to a light dusting, I swipe my card over the magnetic key reader, wait for the click that lets me know the locking mechanism has released, and then push inside the rear entrance of the museum. As soon as the door closes behind us, Mrs. Payne's voice carries from down the long corridor. She's around a bend in the hallway, out of sight, but she's coming. My first thought is to explain why I'm late, but then a more pressing matter comes to mind. Kayla. How do I explain why she's with me? I can't and I won't.

Under the dim corridor lighting, Mrs. Payne's shoes clack on the tile floor.

To my right, the hall continues in the opposite direction, toward the basement entrance. Behind Kayla, I see the answer to my predicament.

With a nervous grin, I lean in close to her and invade her personal space as I reach for the closet door. "Sorry, I can't let my boss see you. Just hide out and wait for my signal."

I whisk the door open and nudge her inside.

"Wait," she says, "I'm claustrophobic..."

I shut the door with a click and turn as Mrs. Payne rounds the corner. "Aiden Quick, where have you been? You know I don't tolerate tardiness."

I rub my ears, which are icy from the night air. "Believe it or not, I had some issues with public transportation." It's not a lie, so it rolls off my tongue with ease, although it's stretching the truth.

"You're lucky I had to work late this evening." Mrs. Payne wrinkles her brow. "I was about to disable your key card and instruct the security guard not to let you in."

"Guess I'm fortunate I made it here before you left for the day."

Something bumps in the closet. Kayla. Or a broom. Or both.

"What was that?" Mrs. Payne peeks over my shoulder.

"I think I saw a mouse run in there a few seconds ago," I say. "Kind of dark in here, but I saw something, I'm sure of it."

Mrs. Payne frowns. "Ew, I'll call the pest guy Monday. We can't have rodents running around, chewing on things."

"That's probably a good idea." I jab my thumb down the hallway. "Guess I better get to work... in the... in the place where I work... you know?"

"In the basement?"

My face brightens. "Yes!" I tap my forehead. "The basement. I don't know why it slipped my mind."

"Are you alright? You seem distracted. Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything's fine. I'm fine. Just running late and ready to get to work." I think about moving down the hallway in the basement's direction, but my feet won't budge. With Kayla in the closet, I'm reluctant to leave her there. What if Mrs. Payne checks for the mouse herself?

She purses her lips to one side and squinches her eyes. "If you say so."

"I do. I'm good. No issues here."

"What are you waiting for, then? Go on, get to work." She shoos me down the hall.

I shuffle away, glancing back as she watches me go.

Mrs. Payne tilts her head as I disappear into the stairwell that leads down to the lower level of the museum. She doesn't seem to buy what I'm selling, but it doesn't matter as long as she leaves. Once she's gone, the only person I'll need to look out for is the security guard. He's an elderly man with a flashlight and a baton on his belt. If I can handle Agent 24, I won't have any problem with Oscar. He's the only reason they allow me to work after hours by myself.

After I round the corner, I descend a few steps and then tip-toe back up, listening at the edge of the wall... waiting... waiting... until I hear...

The click-clack of her heels fading as she leaves for the day through the rear exit.

I hesitate a few more seconds until the door clunks within the frame and she's gone. Breathing an enormous sigh of relief, I hustle down the hall and whip open the closet door to find Kayla staring at me with a scrunched up nose.

"Come on," I say, waving her out into the corridor. "I'll show you my dungeon, but we need to hurry before the security guard sees you."

With that, we hustle down the hallway and take the stairs to the basement. But the moment we step foot inside the dusty room and I flip the switch on the overhead fluorescent lights, a mind-shattering headache strikes with a vengeance. That's when I see things like I did on the bus before Agent 24 attacked me. Visions of things I need to know. And once again, I wonder if there's more to me than I realize.

AGENT 23 BLACKOUT (Agent 23 Book 1)Where stories live. Discover now