Death Cursed (Death Touched, Book One)

Chapter 16

They were now on the second floor of the Agency, or the second basement according to ground level. The people in black reappeared with their clipboards and folders tucked under their arms. Their dark eyes flickered over the pair as they passed in the white halls.

Nena leaned toward Jack and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Why are there so many people upstairs, and no one but Doc downstairs?"

"The offices are near the ground floor and the holding cells, and our rooms, are downstairs," he told her.

She furrowed her brow. "But what do they do?"

"They cover for the company and all the messes we have to clean up," he explained as several people with loads of papers hurried toward them. The pair paused and pressed themselves against the wall to let them pass. "Something happens that might get in the paper and they make sure it doesn't."

"How do they do that?" she persisted.

He looked down at her and shrugged. "Whatever way they can. Payoffs. A touch of magic for amnesia. UFO excuses."

"I'm surprised he trusts this many humans," she commented.

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "Who said they were human?"

She frowned. "Are they dead?"

He grabbed the shoulder of a passing worker, a young man of twenty in a white button shirt and black pants. The man turned his head up at Jack and frowned. "What do you want?"

Jack reached into his pocket and drew out his balled hand. "I want you to hold this." He grabbed the man's arm and clapped his hand into that of the man.

The man let out a shriek and leapt back, dropping what Jack had slapped into his hand. Nena looked down and frowned when she saw a simple silver cross on the floor. Smoke rose from the man's palm where the cross had left its imprint in his flesh as a terrible burn.

The man grasped his wrist and glared up at Jack. "You idiot! You fool!"

Jack smiled and bowed his head. "Thank you for your participation. If you have any complaints write them down and send them straight to-well-" he pointed at the floor, "-you know." The man sneered at him, plucked his folder off the floor and marched off.

"What is he?" Nena asked her companion.

Jack picked up the cross and stuffed it into his pocket before he looked to Nena. "A devil, one of Scratch's minions who use their skills to persuade humans that the Agency doesn't exist."

The pair strode down the hall and Jack stopped them before an innocuous white door. He opened it and they stepped inside. The room turned out to be a computer lab with a couple dozen new personal computers arrange on tables against the walls. In the middle was a large table surrounded by chairs.

Beside the table stood Peter. In front of him was an open laptop and a pile of papers. He leaned over the laptop and typed away at the board faster than Nena had ever seen anyone tap before.

"What luck?" Jack asked him as he strode up to his partner with Nena behind him.

Peter didn't look up nor stop typing as he replied. "Very little."

Jack tapped the remains of his cigarette into a tray and arched an eyebrow. "Even after a day?"

"A day?" Nena repeated.

He glanced at her and nodded. "Yeah. I touched you a little harder than I thought."

"The information you provided me was rather vague," Peter countered.

Jack lit another cigarette and shrugged. "There wasn't much left of his memories."

"Did you read his mind?" Nena asked him.

"More like see his thoughts and memories," he told her. He raised one gloved hand and frowned. "It's a little 'gift' these things can do." He dropped his hand to his side and returned his attention to Peter. "So what did you find?"

Peter picked up one of the papers and slapped it down in front of Jack. Jack's cigarette hung low as he glanced from the paper to his partner. "Something sneak through or are these the comics?"

Peter nodded at the paper. "The former. Look at the right-hand column on the second page."

Jack flipped through the pages while Nena slipped up beside him. He stopped at the aforementioned page and browsed the column. It stood out from the rest with its blaring column title: Monsters Among Us.

Jack arched an eyebrow as his eyes scanned the article. Nena leaned in and her eyes widened as she read the lede paragraph:

Police are baffled by a string of missing-person reports over the last six months. They have failed to find a connection to the reports other than the similarity in unemployment, age, and that all the persons are men. A recent investigation by this reporter has found a new angle to the disappearances: all of them were well-known among the hacking community and possibly knew one another through a related project advertised on the message board Burn Proxy.

Jack picked up the paper and glanced at Peter. "How long has he been writing about this?"

"He started the column a year ago after a short leave of absence from the paper and his last three weekly articles have been about the missing persons," Peter told him.

"Are the missing people the Corrupted?" Nena guessed.

Peter nodded. "Yes."

Jack tossed the paper onto the table and looked up with the cigarette pressed hard between his lips. "So is this guy a human or a renegade from the Terminal?"

Peter turned the laptop screen toward the pair and showed them an identification picture of a thirty-year old man with short brown hair and auburn eyes. He had a hint of a smile on his lips and wore a simple pair of jeans and a plain white shirt.

Jack's eyes flickered up to Peter. "Human?"

"Everything I have found out about him points to his being a human," Peter told him.

"What about those months he had off?" Jack wondered.

Peter shook his head. "I can find nothing of what happened during that period."

Jack returned his attention to the picture and sighed. "Well, I guess we'll have to pay Mr.-" he leaned forward and squinted at the name before the picture, "-Devin Quill a surprise visit."

"Can we do that?" Nena asked him.

He grinned at her. "Pete and I are the best at it. You're not too bad yourself in a pinch, but I think you'd be better with this." He reached into his overcoat pocket and drew out Nena's gun which he held out to her.

Nena bit her lower lip as her eyes flickered between the weapon and Jack's face. "Are you sure? I mean, Death gave it to me. . ."

"From what I saw in the Terminal I'd say that was a mistake on his part," Jack pointed out. Nena pursed her lips, but accepted the weapon. "I've already filled the cartridge, and if you want any more-" he patted his coat pocket, "-I've got plenty."

"Will we be visiting Mr. Quill at his place of work or home?" Peter spoke up.

"Home. Now let's get going."