Get Your Spy On

Get Your Spy On
Chapter 1

Sloane’s POV
Every school is alike. There are the cheerleaders, jocks, nerds, bullies, kids that get picked on, pretty much everything you can think of. Then there’s me, Sloane Adams, the girl who gets by school without getting bullied or even noticed.
Now I’m not the girl who starts school in the middle of the year, and meets the perfect boy for her by dropping her books, I’m the opposite. I’ve lived in California for six years out of my fifteen years of living. I have friends, not the ones you’d have sleepovers with or share secrets with, just people who you talk to so you don’t become unsociable.
At this moment, I’m heading toward the exit of the school, finally leaving the treacherous class known as gym. I slide the hood of my green hoodie over my head, grimacing at the rain. I hate having to walk home from school five days a week. Mom or Dad always picks up my seventeen year-old sister at her private school a little while away from here.
Now there’s another question running through your mind, oh no, poor Sloane, she is the least loved out of the family, but sorry, you’re wrong. My sister goes to a private school since the school I go to wasn’t exactly nice to her.
I saw Wendy Pierce, smiling and handing people cupcakes, for the bake sell maybe. I walk past her, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back. She smiled at me, her black sleek hair in a tight ponytail. “Sloane right?”
“Er yeah,” I said, slowly lifting the hood of my hoodie down.
“Cupcakes are a dollar fifty, all the proceeds go to charity. You’ll feel good about yourself if you buy one, don’t you think?”
If this was your first day at Wallaceburg High, you’d immediately think Wendy’s a you know what because she’s a cheerleader, but actually she’s always cheerful and nice to people. Some people call her Candy because she’s too sweet.
I fish out two dollars and take a strawberry cupcake with vanilla frosting and little letters in blue frosting saying Charity! Wendy fished through the tin of money, giving me change, but instead I just walked away, figuring fifty cents won’t kill me. I heard her call my name but I continued walking, not looking back.
I start jogging on my way home, feeling the rain hit me as I run. I let the rain hit my blonde hair, not caring if it’s frizzy or anything else normal girls care about. I roll my eyes when I see a girl from my English class making out with her best friends boyfriend on the roof of their car. Two kids are throwing a football back and forth, laughing out loud.
As I near them, one of them throws the football out of reach of the other kid, the football soaring over their head. I instantly jump and grab it, used to the way my reflexes act by now. I throw the kid the football as I turn the corner, smiling when he catches it, nearly knocking him down by the force of the throw. They both watch me, amazed.
I turn on my street, smiling when I see my mom and sister get out of the car, both of them looking my way. Sandy, my sister, waves enthusiastically until I’m walking up the driveway with them. “How was school?”
“Same as usual,” I replied back, wiping my feet on the welcome mat outside of the house. Sandy does the same and we both walk in, dropping our books by the door. As we’re walking up the stairs to our rooms, I look at my sister, watching her intently. “I saw Alex today, he seemed I don’t know, upset today.”
“I don’t know why you take such an interest in him,” Sandy said, opening the door to her room, holding it open long enough to let me in.
“I don’t have an interest in him,” I said quickly. “You fell in love with his older brother so I just assumed you’d know why he’s upset.”
“If you must know,” She said, taking her shoes off, rubbing the sole of her foot, wincing. “Their parents are getting a divorce. Turns out their mom has been cheating. Ben doesn’t care since he never got along with his mom, but Alex is a wreck.”
I’ve only met their parents once, and I’ve only talked to Alex a few times since high school started. He’s a junior and I’m a sophomore, so we don’t have much time to talk. Ben however, I’ve spoken to him plenty of times to know Alex is like me, stays out of trouble and goes unnoticed in school.
“There’s this new kid, Eric Tanner, he’s a sophomore. He seems nice, but he didn’t talk to anyone but the teachers. He’s really shy,” Sandy said, admiring her nails.
“Really?” I ask uninterested. She does this a lot, never talks about her day, instead she watches what everyone else does. “How was your day at school, Sandy? Don’t tell me about other people’s day, tell me about yours.”
She shifted her weight, sighed dramatically, and sat on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as she spoke. “I’m having some trouble in my studies, and nobody is outright picking on me if that’s what your wondering.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. She’s doing okay; I don’t have to worry about her. Just because mom and dad freaked out about her getting in fights doesn’t mean she’s going to get in any more fights. I walk out of her room and into mine, sitting down on my chair, rubbing my head with my hand. I heard the door open, probably dad home for a bit, but he’ll leave again to go back to work.
I heard mom and dad talking, both of them talking hastily. I heard them call Sandy’s name, and immediately I knew there was something wrong. There always is a problem when Sandy’s involved.
I hurry down the stairs, and saw the look on mom and dads face, the look of disappointment. Sandy smiles at mom and dad as if nothings wrong and sits down in one of the kitchen chairs. “What’s up?”
Mom looked at Sandy, shaking her head. “The principal called, Sandy. He said you were this close to getting suspended today. He also said all the teachers are keeping a close eye on you.”
Sandy rolled her eyes, never worried about the consequences. “They’re bluffing; they don’t have time for people like me.”
Dad leaned against the kitchen counter, studying her. “Now what exactly are people like you? You don’t have a disease and you don’t have any problems at home, so what could you possible be?”
She looked a little taken aback, but she recovered by smiling again. You see, Wallaceburg High isn’t a laid back school, they’ll nail you for everything you do, so that’s why Wallaceburg wasn’t nice to Sandy, she wasn’t up the par with what they do.
“Daddy,” Sandy began saying, making her eyes wide like a puppy. “People like me are misunderstood. Don’t you think school should be fun? I make it fun. So you see, daddy, they simply want to torture all of us at that school.”
“Do you see Sloane making a fool out of herself at school?” Mom said abruptly, pointing at me. “She’s studying to become a veterinarian, and she’s only fifteen. Don’t you think it’s about time to start acting your age, Sandy?”
“What do I have to do with this?” I ask, not wanting Sandy to be mad at me.
“Nothing,” Dad said quickly, glaring at mom. “Your mother is just saying that it’s time for her to start thinking about the future, like you are. You both are different, very different.”
I know what dad means by different, but mom and Sandy don’t. Dad sees me as a prodigy at times, just like mom. Dad sees my reflexes, how un-normal they are. He takes me training for reasons I’m not sure of. He makes me do weights, run, hold my breath underwater, catch and throw objects, and write blueprints. Now I’m not sure what all of this is for, but he always assures me it’s for my own safety.
If it is for my own safety, why isn’t Sandy doing it as well? I’ve asked him this numerous times, but he simply replies saying Sandy isn’t like me, at least not yet. I feel like there’s this big secret whenever I’m at the dinner table with my family, probably because mom and Sandy have no idea what dad trains me to do.
Yes I should find what my dad does creepy, weird, far- out, or even sometimes ghastly when it comes to the extreme stuff, but I don’t. It feels like my body is meant to do all the things he’s teaching me to do, and I know dad can do the things I do as well.
“Everyone’s different,” Mom says, eyeing dad suspiciously. “But Sandy we want what’s best for you, and that’s making sure your education is top notch for college, which you are going to do. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Mom says, now smiling. She starts making dinner and dad puts away all his work stuff then returns to the room, wearing a t-shirt and sweats.
“Aren’t you going back to work?” I ask him curiously.
“Not today sweetheart,” Dad says, kissing me on top of the head gently. “I’m staying home for the rest of the day. I think we should do some training tomorrow while mom and Sandy are at the movies, what do you say?”
“Yeah, dad,” I say, mustering up a smile. “Maybe I’ll be able to hold my breath for ten minutes this time.”
“You should,” Dad said, mused. He glanced around to make sure mom or Sandy weren’t in earshot then turns to me and speaks quietly. “It’s almost time sweetie. You and three other kids are going to be chosen soon, I can feel it.”
“For what?”
“Honey,” Dad said, shaking his head at me. “You know I can’t be the one to tell you what it is. You’ll finally understand why I’ve been pushing you so hard to do what you’ve been doing your whole life.”
I nod my head, thinking my dad has finally lost it. Maybe I should look up some phone numbers for the loony bin, because dad is certainly on a scale of ten of people wacko. Mom walks in the room and dad quickly moves away from me and helps her finish cooking.
I sit down on the couch, thinking about the three other kids who could be doing what I’m doing? How do they feel about all of this, I mean do they have an idea what’s going on, or are they as clueless as I’m feeling?
I remember little things from when I was little, like a time when mom almost left dad because he was hiding something, but dad quickly poured this substance down her throat then did the same to Sandy who was shaking and crying in fear. He turned to me, looking at the substance he was holding then back at me.
“You’re just like me,” he said, smiling proudly at me. “I won’t erase your memory of what you saw, it’s what you’ll be eventually, and we all stick together, you know that.”
I was six at the time, and I was petrified at what I saw. He was right though, what he was then, what he is now, they stick together like glue. I knew what he was that day, but as the years went on, I forgot what he was, and maybe it’s for the best, but I highly doubt it.
Sandy shoved me on the shoulder, looking at me angrily. “You space out a lot you know? I keep telling you dinner’s ready, but you keep staring off in the distance.”
“Sorry,” I say, not really meaning it. I get off the couch and sit down at the dinner table, watching mom and dad shoot each other looks over the table. Sandy notices the tension and immediately thinks it’s about her.
“I promise I’ll do better in school. I don’t want this to cause a fight or a divorce over you two,” Sandy said, upset. “I’ll find a job and I’ll go to college, I’ll do whatever you want, I promise.”
Mom looks at Sandy, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, baby you don’t have to do all that for me. I want you to do it for you, remember that sweetie. We’re not mad at you and we’re not going to get a divorce, not at the moment anyways.”
Her last words sliced through the air, silencing all of us. Dad looked clearly revolted by the idea of mom leaving him and marrying someone else. The man she would marry wouldn’t be able to protect her like he does, and he wouldn’t be able to train me as much as he does now.
“Honey I think the rolls should be done,” Dad said quietly, a plan brewing. Sandy goes to the kitchen to help mom take them out of the oven. Now it’s just me and him at the dinner table, the two who share the same secret. He took a small bottle out of his pocket, containing clear liquid in it. He undid the top and poured all of it in her drink.
I sit there, stunned again. The same substance he put down her throat when I was six. Whatever’s in there, it certainly does something to mom, but what exactly? “Don’t let her drink it, dad. You’re better than this, you know that.”
Dad laughed as if I said something funny. “I’m not letting her take you away from me, especially at this crucial time. It’s easier if she just forgets what she found in my briefcase. I’m here to protect you three, and I can’t do that if she puts a restraining order on me.”
There’s something, something terribly frightening about the tone of voice dad’s using. I knew at that moment that dad wasn’t crazy, cuckoo, nuts, wacko, or psycho. Whatever he’s training me for, it’s very well real. When Sandy and Mom get back they both are laughing, and they each grab a roll and put it on their plate.
“Dinner looks scrumptious, dear,” Dad says as mom takes a sip of her iced tea. She smiles at him, the weary look on her face disappearing as she drinks more of her beverage.
Dad looks at me, looking into my eyes and I can hear his voice in my head telling me this will be another one of our secrets. I look down at my plate of spaghetti, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. I can’t watch mom drink it, smiling, her mind being corrupted into thinking dad is a normal man who has a normal job.
As we’re clearing away the dishes, me and dad are alone again, which is good because I have questions he needs to answer. “Dad? Can I ask you something, something I can only ask you?”
Dad looks up and nods, knowing what I’m about to ask. I take in another breath and begin speaking, “Can’t you tell me what you are, what I might be?”
Dad thinks thoughtfully for a moment, then smiles at me, and that’s when I knew, he’s going to tell me what I’ve been dying to know. “When I go to work every morning, I’m not actually going to the shoe store, instead I go to my real job. Sweetie, you and I are spies.”
I nearly drop the plate I’m holding, my eyes wide. It’s not obvious that he’d be a spy, or maybe it was. Yes I know spies exist, but I thought they’re called other things, but I guess not.
“Why am I different from other kids?” I ask, staring at him intently. “Why are my reflexes better than a football player, or some of the things I do can be consider unnatural?”
“I’ve trained you your whole life to do the impossible. You weren’t born with these gifts, you were trained for them. Every time we worked out until you were ten I kept giving you this substance.”
He pulls out the now empty bottle which contained the liquid he put in moms drink. “It makes you forget what happened a few moments to days ago. You weren’t ready to keep this secret from your mother, so I kept giving it to you. Thankfully your body still remembered all the stuff I taught you.”
“Why didn’t you choose Sandy to be a spy?” I ask, staring at him, slightly angry. “Why didn’t you do all of this to her?”
He was about to reply when Sandy and mom came back in, ending this conversation for now. I glance at the clock on the wall, its six fifteen. Mary should be home from piano by now. I grab the home phone and dial her number, which is burned into my memory.
Mary is one of my only friends, pretty much making her my best friend. She’s one year younger than me, and certainly acts younger. She’s nice, but her parents have her involved in so many activities and are always set her up on these play dates with a rich girl across the street.
“Sloane,” Mary said when she picks up. “I didn’t see you at school. You must have been hiding well today.”
“I try,” I respond back, smiling to myself. “How was your play date last week?”
“She hates me. I told her I had no interest in being her friend and she said it was likewise. Apparently her parents forced her to go as well. But that’s not important, what’s important is why Wendy Pierce is talking about you to her friends.”
“What?”
“She told her friends that you gave extra money for charity, and that you’re pretty but really quiet. I think she’s going to try to get you on the cheerleading squad.”
“She’s going to have to search for me in all my classes to do so, because now I’m going to make sure I’m as invisible as ever.”
“Why do you have to act invisible anyways?” Mary asks, for the millionth time since we’ve met. “You’re pretty and you’re certainly smart. You’re very likeable.”
“Thanks,” I say, slightly blushing. I wrap my finger around the phone cord, thinking. Am I likeable? I mean the first year in high school kids came up to me, but they soon found out that I wasn’t interested in making friends.
“Sloane, you still there?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah I’m still here. Anyways, I heard you were invited to a junior party next week. Are your parents going to let you go?”
Mary laughed on the other end of the phone. “Like my parents would let me go, especially if you aren’t going. They think of you as the mature friend, especially when they have you over for dinner or they talk to your parents. I swear if you weren’t richer than that snob across the street, they’d let me go over to your house every day.”
Dad walks into the room nervously when he sees me on the phone. We can only talk on the phone for minimum time lately, even though money isn’t a problem in this house. I say a quick good-bye to Mary, then rush into my room and lock the door. Dad becomes very overprotected when it comes to long phone calls. I think he thinks somebody is listening in or tracking it, which might be possible since he’s a spy.
I wish I could tell mom or Sandy, but dad might hurt them, or erase their memory again, and eventually they’re going to get hurt by their memories being taken away. I jump on my bed and flop on my back, staring at my ceiling, glow in the dark stars stuck to the walls. I don’t want to be a spy if I have to do the things dad does. I’m sure the three other kids agree too. Why would it interest them so much to lie to the people you love and take away their memories?
Fears run through me as I think of all the spy movies I watched when dad wasn’t around. Getting shot or stabbed, people finding out and feeling betrayed, losing or breaking a body part, nearly dying, or even worse, dying.
I feel like there’s a killer in my home, and that killer is my dad. I know, I know, he hasn’t killed anyone, but at the same time he’s scary. What he does, it’s unnatural, unsafe, unrealistic. If I learn to be a spy, I can protect them from him, I’ll be able to tell him to knock it off, all I have to do is pretend there’s nothing wrong.
I lift myself off my bed and lightly tap my head against the wall. Why pound am I pound not normal? I sit down and start on my homework, figuring I won’t be able to do anything about this whole spy mess until I actually become a spy. It’s all still hazy. By the time I’m finished, I’m exhausted. I roll into bed, falling asleep immediately.
The next morning I wake up early, shower, eat, then go on my morning run before dad takes me out to train. As I run, I hear kids yelling with laughter, not having a care in the world what’s going on around them. They have no clue that every day a spy walks by their house, thinking about them laughing and not having a care in the world. I see a woman walking a dog in the distance, farther than an average person can see. I roll my shoulders back, trying to make all the thoughts of being a spy disappear into the darkness of my mind, away from the midst. I started relaxing when I heard someone jogging alongside me, Alex Dover.
“Hey, Alex,” I say without enthusiasm. He’s nice, but we don’t have much in common. He’s in love with Wendy, and Wendy doesn’t give him the time of day.
“Hey, Sloane. I’ve seen you run a few times, you’re pretty good. Have you heard about my parents getting a divorce? Everyone keeps giving me sympathy, but you haven’t given me your sympathy yet.”
“Yeah I heard,” I said, turning my head to look at him directly. “Everybody’s parents get a divorce, so it’s no big surprise you know?”
With that, I start picking up speed, hoping he won’t be able to catch up. No such luck, he’s faster than he shows everybody he is. Oh that sounds wrong. He ran alongside me once again, flashing me his straight pearly white teeth. “You’re not the one to tell someone something delicately, are you?”
“I am,” I reply back, staring ahead. “On things that need to be dealt with delicatly. Divorce doesn’t count anymore, especially when you know your father has cheated on your mom plenty of times.”
I know it sounds harsh, but I’m not in the mood to sugar coat anything. Alex stared ahead as if he wants to say something, but instead he closes his mouth and just runs. I turned the corner, Alex following me. Eventually the silence gets to me, so I turn to look at him. “You okay?”
“I just have other things going on as well,” he mumbled, not meeting my gaze. We both hear the sounds of giggling, both of us knowing the giggles are coming from Wendy. She looks up and stares at us, her hazel eyes burning into us as if we did something wrong. I feel a shiver running down my spine even though it isn’t cold outside. Wendy sure is being weird.
After fifteen more minutes of jogging, me and Alex part ways. I turn around to say bye, but he was already running, running faster than a normal human being. Could he be?
As I run up the driveway, dad walks out of the house, a big black sports bag in his hand. I get in the passenger seat, taking a sip of water from my blue work out bottle. Dad starts down the street, heading toward a gym where you can request the gym to yourself.
“Do all the spies work out here?” I ask, filling in the silence.
“No,” Dad answered back, staring through the review mirror, looking at the car behind us. “We work out in the building where all the spies stay at.”
“Why don’t you live there?”
“I’m on a mission. We stay at our homes so we don’t accidently lead someone who’s after us to the building. By the end of next year you’ll be going on missions almost every day.”
“What if I don’t want to be a spy?” I ask him, staring at him. “What if later on in the years I decide I don’t want to do it anymore. What happens then, dad?”
“If you’ve been with them for a long time, and they know they can trust you, they’ll put that liquid in your body, a lot of it. If you’ve only been there for a little while, and they’re unsure about you, they’ll just kill you.”
“Would they kill you?”
“They can’t kill me, I’m second in command to being the alpha. I’m the beta. If I want to leave, they’ll let me go, no questions asked. When I get too old, which is pretty soon, you’ll take my place, just like I took grandpa’s place.”
“Grandpa died of old age, right?” I ask staring at him, suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the car. “If he was second in command they couldn’t have killed him, right?”
“Things were different then-“
“You let some spy kill your father?”
“Of course not!” Dad replied back angrily. His hands tightened around the wheel, holding in his anger.”He died on a mission, a mission I took over for him.”
“Did grandma know what he was? When she saw his body she had to know someone, heck if the police saw him they’d know he was killed by someone not old age!”
“The police knew he was a spy,” Dad said, glancing again at the review mirror, his eyes narrowing. “Sloane, do me a favor. Open that glove compartment and hand me the gun, really low.”
I open the glove compartment, my eyes widening as I saw at least three guns and bullets in there. I reluctantly grabbed the smallest one and handed it to him, low so nobody could tell what I was doing.
He glanced at the gun and shook his head. “That one’s yours. Give me the second one to the left. Hurry.”
I grab the gun and exchange it for mine. I’ve never worked a gun before, no less seen one without it being behind a glass case. Dad takes a turn, now going in the opposite direction of the gym. He does something to the gun, making it do a clicking noise. He takes mine and does the same. I have absolutely no idea what to do with this gun. We turn onto a deserted road, no cars but us and the car behind us following.
“We’re going to die,” I said without even thinking. “We’re going to die and it’s all going to be your fault. What the heck kind of mission are you on? And if we’re going to die right now, I want to tell you that I was the one who broke your headphones.”
“We’re not going to die,” Dad said chuckling a bit. Without hesitation, he slammed my back with his hand, my head hitting on the dashboard. A bullet goes straight through the window, missing me by inches.
“Let the games begin,” Dad says, laughing as he said it. He’s loving this!
I hold in a scream as a bullet hits the tire next to me, then the mirror next to me. They start driving next to us, on my side of course. All of a sudden the guy driving has his gun out, pointing it right at my head.
We lock eyes. Two men are in the car, both around in their thirties. The man pointing the gun at me looks at me, surprised. He lowers the gun, shaking his head. Dad swerves the car so now he’s facing them. Dad starts shooting at them, glass shattering everywhere. The car wasn’t driving fast enough for me to get majorly hurt if I were to jump out. I open my door and fling myself out, just in time too. I look up and see the car flip three times then catch on fire.
“Dad!”
I try to stand up, but pain runs through my body, pushing me back down. I look down and see my left leg turned wrong. You’ve got to be kidding me! I start crawling over to him, my left leg dragging. The men in the other car kept driving, probably thinking dad won’t make it through the fire.
I see dad emerge from the car, running out before the whole car explodes. His blonde hair messed up and his shirt tattered. He picks me up from the ground and starts running. “What’s broken?”
“I think I sprained my leg or broke it,” I say slowly, wincing in pain as he ran. I point to my left leg and he looks at it carefully. “I’m taking you to my friend’s house, he’ll be able to fix you up.”
He stops running and lays me on the ground, then he fishes his cell phone out of his pocket and dials a phone number. “They found me in the car with my daughter. I need a car and I need you to help my daughter. Her leg looks sprained, almost broken.”
I heard the man on the phone swear loudly, then ask where he was. Dad hung up the phone, looking at me. I could see fear in his eyes, he almost lost his daughter on his own account after all. “I’m so sorry, Sloane. I should have had your mom drop you off at the gym.”
“He could have shot me,” I whisper, pain searing up my leg. “He didn’t though. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He wanted you. What did you do to make him so mad?”
“Shh the pain is going to your head. Just close your eyes and my friend will be here to help you, okay?”
I lay down for a few more minutes until his unknown friend arrives. When he did arrive, dad lifted me into the backseat, the whole backseat to myself. I turned my head and saw a guy in his mid-thirties at the steering wheel, calling my dad a useless spy and a terrible father.
“I didn’t think they knew who I was, but they did. They must have recognized me when Carol was giving birth to Sloane.”
“You should have done the birth at home, Gary. I keep telling you you’re slacking, is this enough proof now? At least it wasn’t Sandy in the car with you. I don’t think you’d be able to make her forget this.”
We turned into a house, a good sized house. Dad carried me into the house, my head lolling back. I smelled blood, but I don’t think I’m bleeding anywhere specific to smell it. I looked at dad, smelling it, my nose crinkling.
“My wife will get the bullet out of you, Gary,” Dad’s friend said. He took me out of dad’s arms and went into this room and got to work on my foot. I winced as he touched it, swearing under his breath.
“I’m Sloane,” I said, breaking the silence. “You probably knew that though.”
“I’m Tim, of course that’s not my real name, but to everyone here, it’s Tim,” he said smiling. “My wife’s a spy as well. That’s how we met, through a spy mission. We’ve been married for twenty years.”
“Wow,” I said, amazed. Sure my mom and dad have been married just as long, but not many people are married for that long now and days. “Have we met before?”
“When you were really little,” Tim said, chuckling at a memory. “He brought you on a mission once. You’re the reason he’s alive right now. They wouldn’t shoot him with you right there.”
I look down and see a boot on my leg, a cast. He opened the refrigerator in the room and took out a bottle of orange colored liquid. I stare at it as he pours some in a glass then hands it to me. “It’ll speed up the process of healing your leg. Spies can’t wear casts.”
I drink it all, trying hard not to spit it out of my mouth. He takes the glass from me and throws it in the sink. I look around, noticing I’m not in a room, but a basement. “How long will I have this cast on for?”
“Two or three days,” he answered back nonchalantly. I laugh out loud and he turns to me curiously. “What’s so funny?”
“Two or three days for my foot to heal,” I said, giggling again. “That’s impossible. It’s usually six weeks at the least, isn’t it?”
Tim chuckled. “People don’t want to release this drink. They want to keep it for themselves to use and study, to make sure it’s safe. There are things beyond your imagination, Sloane. There are things people have created that nobody knows about. This isn’t special compared to the other things out there.”
I shake my head feeling crazy, mental, a lunatic, anything that describes loony. I hear footsteps coming down the steps to the basement, and then a woman appeared, holding a rag covered in blood. “Gary was shot in a good place. He’s lucky you just finished one of your missions or else he’d be screwed.”
Tim kissed his wife, both of them in love. I felt uncomfortable sitting there as they had one of their lovey dovey moments. She turned to me, giving me a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, your dad will be okay, and you’ll be just fine. A sprained or broken foot is nothing compared to getting stabbed or shot. You’ll laugh at this years from now.”
I highly doubt it. This is all going too fast, just yesterday I learned I’ll be a spy, and today, I witnessed an attack, something they all go through every day. How can this be a career?
I yawned loudly, noticing how tired I am. Boy, this medicine Tim gave me sure kicks in fast, I barely feel my leg! I made myself comfortable on the dark green couch, snuggling my head into the couch.
When they thought I was asleep, they start talking about me.
“I wish Gary didn’t have kids,” the wife said, sighing loudly. “That’s the only reason I won’t have kids, so they don’t have to live this life.”
“When we’ve gained their trust long enough or when we retire, we can adopt, okay? I promise we’ll get a life, away from all the missions and lies. If only we could get Sloane out of it too.”
“She won’t make it,” the wife said, her voice cracking. “She isn’t strong enough to make it through all of this. Her father will have her on a pedestal, saying she’s just like him. What will the boss say when she does terrible? He’ll kill her won’t he? And what’s Gary going to do?”
“Sherry,” Tim said, trying to soothe her. “We’ll protect Sloane, just like we protect everyone else’s kids. For now, Sloane will train every day and when they announce her and the three other kids who will be welcomed into the group, she’ll be ready, she has no choice.”
I fell asleep at that moment, but they still kept talking, about me mostly I bet. When I woke up, I wasn’t in the basement anymore, instead I was in the living room, and dad was staring right at me.
“You okay?” I ask, looking to see a patch on dads side, maybe where he was shot.
He nodded, wincing, but he’s okay. I sit up, feeling pretty good. My leg isn’t hurting at all. It feels numb if anything. Sherry runs up and hands me a bowl of chicken noodle soup, kissing me on the cheek. I accept the soup, thanking her. I sit down in the kitchen, taking in the warm feeling as the soup went down my throat.
I look around, noticing the kitchen is really. . . bright. Everything is neon and there’s flowers in a vase on the table, a deep pink, exquisite if I do say so myself. Dad sits down across from me, checking his watch, sighing. “Your mother’s probably wondering where you are. I told her I’d drop you off at three.”
“What’s mom going to think about my foot?” I ask, lifting it up. “You can’t make her forget about it, dad.”
Dad nodded his head, staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of a plan. Finally he looked at me, smiling at me, his eyes shining. “You did good today, sweetie. I was so proud of you when you jumped out of the car. Your instincts took over.”
“You didn’t tell her to jump out?” Sherry asked as she walked into the kitchen, pouring some coffee into a mug. She had a look of surprise on her face.
“Nope,” Dad says smugly, taking a sip of coffee out of a white mug. “She’ll be ready in no time to take on her own missions.”
Tim walked into the room, hearing everything we said. He glanced at Sherry, his eyebrows raised. Both of them think I’m not capable of becoming a spy, but I guess they’re changing their mind.
“It’s no big deal,” I say, taking another gulp of soup. “I jumped out of a car, no big deal.”
Dad waved his hand in the air. “Your just being modest, Sloane. One day you’ll be greater than I am! When I was your age I would have been a daredevil and stayed in the car, not smart eh?”
“Tim would have stayed with his father as well,” Sherry chuckled, relaxing a bit. “I would have shot their tires, and then I would have jumped out of the car.”
I looked down and noticed a bruise forming on the calf of my leg. I must be bruised up everywhere, but that’s okay, it’s a small price to pay when you just lived through a gun attack.
“Please don’t tell me we have to train today,” I say, my hair in knots and my clothes ripped in various places.
“I’ll let you slide today,” Dad reassured, leaning back in his chair. “I think you’ve learned more than you would’ve in the gym anyways.”
We all laugh, but my laugh is different. It’s tense, unaware of what life will bring to this new discovery. Whether I’ll live to graduation, or if I’ll ever be the same again. I’m not sure if I belong in this spy business, but I’ll sure try to do so, because I have to protect Sandy and mom just in case they find out where we live and dad isn’t around to protect them. He picked me over Sandy for a reason, and I’m going to make sure I don’t let him down, even if I am unsure if he’s safe to be around or not.