Shadow: The Origin Of A Legend

Chapter 49

"Is this train ride ever going to be over?" I complain, my voice slightly muffled by the seat cushion. I'd gotten so bored, I'd lain face-down across an entire booth's seat, my left arm folded beneath me, right arm dangling down with my fingers grazing the floor; Rouge, seated on the other side of the booth, giggles. From her vantage point, all she can see is the back of my head with my spines sticking up over the table, and my legs, bent at the knee, with my feet slowly cycling back and forth, just to keep moving; in addition, she sees my slightly wadded-up hoodie, which I took off and put on the table earlier. The air here is stiflingly still, heated by the sun and the train's engine. "Jeez, I know you said this was gonna be boring, but I didn't figure it'd be this boring," I huff, lifting my head to rest my muzzle on the seat cushion. My nose was getting squashed from lying face-down.

"Sorry, Shadow," she stifles a laugh. "If it's any consolation, we only have an hour left." I groan, annoyed, closing my eyes in sadness. The sound of pages turning catches my attention; she'd brought a book along with her, but wouldn't let me read over her shoulder--something about my breath tickling her ears when I lean over. I glare at her legs from under the table, envious. At least she has something to do, though--she'd probably be more annoying than I am when bored. With a sigh, I roll onto my back, crossing my legs, right above left. Folding my arms over my chest, I glower at the ceiling, counting the beams. It's something I've done repeatedly during this trip, but at least it gives me something to do. My mind begins to wander this time, though, and I find myself calculating how much time it will take us to get there. She said it was only an hour, and an hour is sixty minutes. That's thirty minutes, twice. And thirty minutes is fifteen minutes, twice. So I just have to get through fifteen minutes four times and we'll be at HQ. I snort, closing my eyes. That's not so difficult, right? And fifteen minutes is just ten minutes and then five minutes. Or five minutes, three times. So I really only have to get through five minutes twelve times. That's not too awful, right? Scooting back, I hang my head off the edge of the seat, peering around the booths at a clock hanging above the door to the next car. Move faster, I think at it. Move faster! The clock ticks at the same monotonous pace, ignoring my demands. I glare at it, annoyed, until Rouge quips in amusement, "Quit scowling at the clock. It's not its fault that time can't go as fast as you can."

I let out a long, agonized groan, letting myself slide off the cushion until my head hits the floor, black and red spines cascading down and forming one large mass of hair around my head. My snow-white friend tries not to laugh as I pause to take a breath. "Say," I lift my head, looking up at her around the table, "what exactly do I have to do at the headquarters? I mean, what's in store for me here?"

Rouge flicks her ears, glancing at me as she closes her book with a gentle thump. "Well, basically, they're gonna interview you and figure out if you're as great as I told them you were. If you pass that, next you'll have to sign a waiver," she flaps her hand aimlessly around as I struggle to sit up, "but it'll just be the whole 'if you get hurt, you won't sue them' type of thing." Finally upright, I wheeze slightly--that was the most difficult sit-up of my life. "Then, the President will wanna talk to you. But that's not normal procedure--usually, new agents are just handed their cover stories by a superior, never directly by the President."

"Why does he wanna talk to me?" I query, tipping my head to one side in curiosity. She frowns, and worry spears me.

"I'm not entirely sure. He doesn't usually talk to new recruits, but maybe he just wants to meet you because you'll be working with me." A grin flashes across her face. "Since I'm one of the best agents he's got, he and I get along pretty well. If we weren't in a work environment, I daresay we'd be friends, actually."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?" He's her superior, and the head of this organization, yet the two are that close?