A cold feeling slinked down my spine and settled into my stomach. After three years of thinking that they were dead, they were here. Standing in front of me, all looking the same. I guess it was just me, then, who had changed.
Jake was the first to speak, his red hair ruffling with the wind. "Ben, holy-"
Without waiting around to hear the rest, I spun around and dashed into the alley way, my heart pounding in my chest as I screamed Release, over and over again in my mind. Finally, the familiar sound of my wings clicking and unfurling in my back greeted me, and I shot up into the air, scrambling onto the flat roof of the hotel, and tumbling to the middle. Pain shot through my shoulder and rib, and I grimaced, gritting my teeth. The anesthetic that the doctors must've injected into me had finally worn off, and I felt the brunt of the pain.
Crawling over to the side of the roof, where a small ledge surrounded the perimeter of the area, I peered over the side. I could hear the others from where they were standing in the alley. My old team must have run into the alley after me. I closed my eyes as another wave of pain hit.
"Where is she?" Ben's voice floated up to me.
"I don't know; she ran into here." Lydia sounded confused as she searched the area, and I could second the emotion.
Didn't they know that the scientists had manufactured wings into me? My eyes widened as I realized that Kara and Tom didn't tell them. I frowned. Why not, though? I sighed deeply as a I painfully maneuvered myself into a sitting position, staring up at the now cloudy sky. As I flinched and fought back another wave of pain and dizziness, only one thought crossed my mind: I was in some deep s-.
---
I hissed through my teeth as pain lanced through my body, and I groggily opened my eyes to see twinkling stars staring back at me. Groaning, I sat up and realized that I was still on the rooftop of the hotel. My back hurt from where I had laid on my wings, and my head was pounding. Dragging myself up from the roof, I looked over the edge to see that the Agency car was still parked in the lot.
My old team must be staying here, then. Tapping my foot, I considered my options. One, I could stay here and get back as much energy as I could, or two, I could fly home. I huffed out a laugh. Yeah, I'm definitely flying home.
Stretching my wings out, I beat them a few times before pushing off of the ground, and trying to find the wind current. Once I had, I set off towards the North, where I would have to fly for about thirty minutes before I reached home.
Looking down, I reached a hand up to push back my hair so I could see the sleeping town below better. All the cute houses, with the wood and brick siding, mixed with rose gardens, painted the perfect picture. A pang hit my heart as I saw swing sets and soccer balls scattered around in yards, left there by forgetful children.
I never really had a childhood, for as soon as I was old enough, my dad put me into the Agency's Academy. My mother had argued against it, wanting a normal, or normal-ish, childhood for her family, but my father was adamant. He wanted us to "follow in his footsteps," becoming "great leaders for the future." Yeah, sure. Look how that turned out.
A while later, I saw the familiar slope of trees that hid a little trail from above. Soon, I caught a glimpse of the stone chimney of my house rising up into the trees, and I sloped downward, retracting my wings as soon as my feet touched the ground.
A slow smile crept onto my face as soon as my foot stepped onto the stone pathway that led to the door. My flowers out front were flourishing, even in the cold weather, and one look inside my bay window told my that everything was in order inside.
Stepping into the small alcove that was the entrance to my doorway, I laid my hand on the small panel that was actually a screen, and as soon as my hand was scanned, a small green light appeared and my door unlocked. One benefit to having connections in the agency, I suppose.
Stepping inside and closing the door behind me, I locked it, breathing out a sigh of relief that was in tune with my body throbbing out pain. First things first, I headed to the small guest bathroom and dug out the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink.
Having taken care of my shoulder and side, I then made my way to the kitchen, flicking on the lights. Illuminated, I could clearly see the stone island with the drawer that held the medicine in it. Grabbing the Ibuprofen and a glass of cold water, I downed the medicine and put the glass by the sink, and was about to head to my bedroom when a movement outside the window over the sink caught my attention.
Moving closer, I peered out, but couldn't see anything. Shrugging, I turned away again, only to halt when a scratching noise on the door sounded.
Freezing, I grabbed a gun that I kept in a drawer in the island, and slowly made my way to the doorway. A swishing object appeared, and I frowned before bursting out laughing and placing the gun into the holster on my waist.
Rushing over to the door, I unlocked it and swung it open, just in time for a big creature to come barreling in and rub on my legs.
Still laughing, I breathed out a "Hello, Catsby," before picking him up and burying my neck into his soft fur, the sounds of his purrs surrounding me.
The Great Catsby, or Catsby, for short, was a beautiful grey furred Maine Coon cat that I had found on a mission one time, when he was still a kitten, and had immediately fallen in love with. He now stayed with me at my house, only being a house cat when I was home. At the other times, he hunted small animals and drank water from the stream that was about fifty feet from my house.
Still carrying him, I grabbed a saucer and placed some warm water on it. Catsby immediately jumped out of my arms and began to lap it up.
Squatting down, I rubbed his fur. "Hello, Catsby. Miss me? I missed you." Giving him one last rub, I finally stood up and headed for my bedroom.
Flicking on the lights, I smiled at the sight that greeted me. My floor length windows presented the sight of the woods to me, and my queen sized bed with a dark turquoise colored comforter and pillows looked very nice to my tired brain and body. Barely managing to close the window shades and get changed into sweats and a t-shirt without falling asleep, I opened my door for Catsby to come in before getting into bed and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
---
I woke to the sound of Catsby meowing into my ear. Groaning, I rolled over and buried my face into my pillows. "Catsby, shut up," I mumbled. He, of course, didn't listen, and continued to meow until I screeched and sat up, glaring at him. "Fine! I'm up! Are you happy now?"
With only a meow in reply, I yawned, stretching my arms out before grabbing a pair of dark denim jeans, fuzzy socks, and a t-shirt with an elephant on the front that had special slots in the back for my wings. I couldn't have my shirts ripping apart every time I had to release my wings, now, could I? Five minutes later, I put my chestnut hair into a bun and opened my window shades, letting the light flood into my room.
Walking into the kitchen, with Catsby close behind me, I filled his saucer up with water before turning to the pantry, and opening up the door. I grimaced at the sight that greeted me. Some cereal, a box of granola bars, and chips were all that I had. I knew that the fridge was empty from the last time I was here.
Drat. That meant that I had to go into town. I groaned, thumping my head on the wall. I wanted to stay here, not go into town. I needed time to think through things. Almost two days ago, I was on a plane strapped to a bed with a bunch of doctors around me.
Sighing, I grabbed the box of cereal and poured some into a bowl. Having no milk, I just ate it plain with a spoon. Sitting down at the island, I looked out the bay window for a few minutes before turning on the T.V. that was in the kitchen.
For a while, I watched an old Western movie, before the screen suddenly changed, and news anchors appeared on the screen. The words "Breaking News" flashed across the screen, and I frowned, wondering what had happened.
The anchors then introduced a person, who joined them onscreen. I looked at the screen, my cereal, and then back again, choking on my bite of cereal.
"Oh my word. That... That's J-"
A knock sounded on the door.
YOU ARE READING
The Fifth Agent
Action"We made you; we can also break you." A failed experiment. Words not commonly used when describing a person. But even years after being experimented on, Bentley Waters still has to deal with the stares that come with the wings in her back, and the...
