Mystics 3-Book Collection (72 page)

She realized that she’d already made that
decision. She would find a way to shut the portals down and save
her mother, no matter what.

The air was unnaturally warm for early
spring. It felt like summer, but there were no leaves on the trees,
and the grass was yellow and brown instead of green. The smell of
sulfur was even worse than she’d first thought, and she had to
cover her mouth with her shirt. The dark gray skies and flashes of
red lightning added to the gloom. Strong winds pushed her back,
like invisible hands that didn’t want her to reach the Hive. Was
the storm trying to tell her something? She ignored the dread in
the pit of her stomach and plowed on.

Simon swung open the doors of the Hive, and
Zoey let out a breath of surprise. The grand hallway had been
transformed into a campaign headquarters.

Hundreds of agents and mystics in coats and
heavy boots were gathered near the reception area. They were armed
for war with swords, guns, axes, and other weapons Zoey had never
seen before. Some were little older than Zoey and some were
middle-aged. Others looked like they belonged in a senior’s home,
not here preparing for battle. Shouts rang in the hall as angry
agents argued with each other. She could see the fear in their eyes
and sense the urgency in the room. She wasn’t the only one who
could feel that the Hive and the rest of the world had changed.

Long lines of agents and mystics holding
forms with gold seals just like Zoey’s waited by a long table.
Directors Hicks, Johnson, Martin, and Campbell sat behind it.

Director Campbell took a contract from a
bald man in his forties who was as tall and thick as Agent Vargas.
She inspected the contract closely, and when she seemed satisfied
that everything was in order, she struck the top of his hand with a
heavy stamp.

“NEXT!” she called, and passed the signed
contract to Director Johnson who entered the information on his
laptop computer.

The next person in line, a small man with
curly moss-brown hair and round glasses shuffled forward. Dressed
in a dark suit and tie, he looked more like a banker than an agent.
He stooped over the desk and twisted around nervously as he made up
his mind whether or not to run. Zoey could sense the tension in the
air.

She searched the faces in the crowd, hoping
to see Agent Barnes or Lee, but they weren’t there.

Zoey waited in silence. She was happy to see
so many had turned up, and she was sure that volunteers in Hives
around the world were enlisting, too. She wondered if they would be
enough
. Who knew what waited for them on the other side of
the Nexus.

A neon sign flashed above the one operating
mirror in the hall. It read:
Laggan, Scotland.
Agent Ward
stood by the mirror and inspected the hands of the volunteers to
make sure they had been stamped properly. She frowned at the group
of volunteers who were waiting in front of her.

“Where is your science officer? No team goes
without an agency science officer—”

“We don’t need a science officer.”

Zoey heard a man’s voice. She turned around
as a plump man with light brown hair, no chin, and large bushy
eyebrows strolled forward. He walked as though he owned the place
and everyone in it. His arrogant demeanor reminded her of Stuart,
and Zoey immediately disliked him.

Agent Ward scowled at him. “What do you mean
you don’t
need
a science officer? Don’t be foolish, man.
Every team
has
to have a science officer! Those are the
rules!”

The man sneered and lifted his hand for
everyone to see. Zoey saw the ruby ring in the shape of the letter
O around his pinky. It was just like the one Stuart and the rest of
the Original wannabes wore.

“I’m a
true
Original descendant,”
said the man, “as was my father and mother before me—and just like
that girl over there.”

He smiled and pointed a fat finger at Zoey.
His teeth sparkled like he had brushed with diamond toothpaste.

All eyes immediately turned on Zoey, and she
wanted to melt into the wall. She disliked him even more now.

“A single drop of my
Original
blood,
my fellow agents and directors,” continued the man, his smile
widening with every syllable, “will
close
the portal.”

Volunteers crowded around to hear what the
agent had to say.

Agent Ward raised her brow. “Is that so,
Agent Ferguson? You think that a portal of this magnitude can be
shut down by a simple
drop
of
your
blood?”

“Yes, my dear woman,” answered Agent
Ferguson. “Speak to your scientists. They didn’t believe me
either—but with enough
convincing
—and with this signed
agreement—”

He flashed a piece of paper that looked like
the volunteer contract but pocketed it before Zoey could see what
it was.

“They all agreed that
I
didn’t
require the assistance of a science officer—I have my own unique
skills. If
that
girl could open the portal, my fellow
Originals and I know that
we
can shut it down.”

A burst of applause rose in the hall, and
the man bowed like he had just completed a theatrical performance.
This wasn’t a laughing matter, and Zoey felt the urge to rush up to
him and slap him to wake him up a little.

Agent Ward grunted. She wasn’t convinced
either.

“Do you think he’s right?” whispered
Simon.

Zoey tried to remember what Mrs. Dupont had
said about
why
her blood was unique, but her memory of that
event was a little hazy. All she remembered was that her blood was
more
potent
. Maybe she had forced herself to forget how she
had been used.

“Maybe,” she answered finally and shrugged.
“I don’t know, but I guess it won’t hurt to try.”

“Bet it’ll
hurt
him if it fails,”
suggested Simon.

“I think he’s making a mistake.” Tristan
watched Agent Ferguson shake hands with his new admirers.

“If he is a true Original, don’t you think
Mrs. Dupont and the Alphas would have drained his blood by now? I
don’t buy his performance. I think he likes the attention. I think
he’s full of bull.”

“Maybe she didn’t know about him?” offered
Zoey. “Maybe she’d been so obsessed with my mother and I that she
never really paid any attention to the others.”

Tristan watched the man indifferently and
then shook his head. “No, man, this guy is really stupid, and he’s
going to get himself and his team killed.”

After Agent Ferguson had acquired enough new
admirers and handshakes; he stepped up to the mirror and beamed at
Agent Ward with his nine team members behind him.

Agent Ward typed something on the computer
panel beside the mirror. There was a loud buzzing, and a green
light above the mirror lit up with a
click
.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said Agent
Ward as she stepped back. “I think you’re being foolish.”

With a hop in his step, and ignoring Agent
Ward’s warning, Agent Ferguson stepped into the mirror and
vanished. Zoey watched the rest of his team disappear through the
mirror.

She followed Simon and Tristan to the long
table and stood in line with the rest of the volunteers. The looks
of surprise on the faces of the other agent volunteers stung her a
little, but she forced herself to look away and pretended to read
her contract thoroughly.

Before she knew it, Zoey and her friends
stood before the directors. Director Martin reached out and took
her contract.

“What’s this?” he said as he inspected her
contract.

“After everything
you’ve
done, you
expect us to just . . . let you go? You’re even more arrogant and
senseless than I thought.”

His accusation hit Zoey hard. She felt like
she’d just been shot. She couldn’t speak. She knew she had taken a
chance volunteering, that the Agency might not let her go, but
still she hoped.

“She’s volunteering like us,” said Tristan.
He stepped in beside Zoey and tossed his contract in Director
Martin’s face. “Let’s face it, the Agencies need as many volunteers
as they can get, and Zoey’s volunteering, just like us.”

“Yeah,” agreed Simon. “What he said.” He
slid his own contract on the table and then hid behind Tristan.

Director Martin glared at Zoey like she was
a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

“You shouldn’t even
be
here; you
should have been expelled from the program—from our society. If I
had my way, you’d be locked up in a high security cell
forever—”

“Well it’s not up to you, is it?”
interrupted Tristan. His skin shimmered, and he leaned dangerously
close to the director. For a horrible moment, Zoey thought he was
going to punch the director. Zoey smiled; that would be awesome to
see.

“You think this is funny?” Director
Campbell’s face was twisted in disgust.

She leaned over and grabbed Zoey’s contract.
“You think this little piece of paper will make us forget what you
did?”

She hesitated for a moment, lifted the
contract for everyone to see, and then ripped it in half.

Zoey found her voice. “Hey! What are you
doing?”

Directors Martin and Campbell shared a
winning look, and then Director Campbell said triumphantly, “You’re
not
going anywhere.”

“That’s not fair!” shouted Simon, still
hiding behind Tristan. “I demand a recount!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Director Hicks pushed his chair back and
joined them. His face was flushed.

“What’s all this racket? What’s going on?
What are you kids all doing here?”

Zoey couldn’t answer. It was as though she
believed Directors Martin and Campbell were right. Perhaps this had
just been a dream. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to go. She’d never
win back the respect of the Agency and the Sevenths.

Simon answered for her. “These two bozos
tore up her contract—ouch!” Tristan kicked him.

Director Hicks picked up the torn pieces of
paper. He turned towards Directors Martin and Campbell. “And why
would you do such a thing?”

Director Martin’s face was severe and when
he spoke spit flew from his mouth, “
She
shouldn’t be allowed
to go—”

“Every able agent is allowed to volunteer.
That
includes
any OSC individuals who are willing to go,”
corrected Director Hicks. “It is up to them. Not us. Anyone can
volunteer for a special mission. Anyone.”

“But—” Director Campbell’s face screwed up
in fury. Her voice rose. “This is all
her
fault! She did
this! The world’s dying because of her!”

Director Hicks took Zoey’s hand in his. He
pressed the stamp down on the top of her hand and branded her with
a red-colored
V
.

Zoey did her best not to look too pleased
and waited patiently as Director Hicks stamped Tristan and Simon in
turn. She did her best to avoid looking at Directors Martin and
Campbell, although she could
feel
them glaring at her.

The only director who seemed indifferent to
Zoey was Director Johnson. He seemed more interested in fighting
with his computer than in a redheaded girl on her way to a suicide
mission.

Director Hicks smiled at them encouragingly
and said, “The Agency appreciates and values your commitment to
help. Look out for one another and keep each other safe. Good luck
to you all.”

“Thank you, director.” Zoey answered
awkwardly and moved away from the table before he changed his
mind.

Simon raised his hand and admired his new
mark. He was practically drooling over it. “V for Valiant . . . V
for Victorious . . . V for
Very
Awesome—”

“V for victim,” said Tristan as he smacked
Simon on the back of the head. But he had the tiniest of smiles on
his face and looked a little smug. He wore his mark proudly,
too.

They walked back towards the mirrors and
faced Agent Ward when Zoey realized that they had forgotten
something important.

“Uh . . . guys—”

“Where’s your science officer?” barked Agent
Ward as though she had read her mind. “No science officer, no
mission.”

“Argh!” Simon smacked his forehead. “I
knew
we forgot something.”

Zoey’s moment of triumph dissipated like a
deflated balloon. She saw her mother’s terrified face flash in her
mind’s eye. Was she even still alive? Every minute wasted was
another minute her mother was tortured.

“But you let that guy go without a science
officer,” argued Tristan. “Why can’t we go? We’re better skilled
than the last group, and you know it.”

Agent Ward shook her head stubbornly. “I’m
sorry, but I can’t. Agent Ferguson had
special
permission—he
knows what he’s doing—”

“I seriously doubt that.” Simon had lost his
smile. He looked angrier than when Stuart King had stolen his OSC
badge and flushed it down in one of the boys’ bathroom toilets.

“Man, this sucks. I can’t believe you won’t
let us go! We’re OSC . . . and besides . . . you
need
volunteers! The Agency said so. You need everyone
that’s willing to help. That’s us baby!”

“I know you kids mean well,” said Agent Ward
“But I just can’t let you go without a science officer. I’d never
forgive myself if I did. I’m sorry, kids but it’s a no.”

“Don’t blame us when the world ends,” said
Simon crossly, “you’ll know who to thank for that—”

“Simon Brown!” growled Agent Ward
dangerously. “You’re stepping dangerously close to a night locked
in one of the basement cells.”

Simon raised his hands in surrender. “Ooohh,
I’m so scared.”

Zoey grabbed Simon by the arm and whirled
him around. “Simon, don’t. We’ll figure out a way—”

“How?” Simon’s face flushed. “If the Agency
wasn’t so
stupid
, they’d let us go.”