Chapter 4: The Agency_The Scarlet Jane Files

We arrive in Dallas, Texas, in the early hours of the morning, during which time the moon is still shining, the towering buildings glimmering. Tired beyond compare, but captivated by the city’s grandeur, I push myself into a sitting position and gaze out the window, at which point the reality of the situation begins to settle in.

 It’s here, I think, where everything begins.

 And here, I want to surmise, where everything else ends. My old life. My former purpose. My connections to everyone and everything in the world as I knew it.

 Slowly, and with trepidation I know comes from the understanding that my world is about to change, I turn my head to face Shadow and ask, “What’s going to happen next?”

 We have just passed under the sign declaring the Dallas/Fort-Worth Metropolitan, at which point Shadow is taking extra care to maneuver among the commuters that happen to be up at this early hour of the morning. He glances in his rearview mirror, then to his right, before shifting lanes to align us on the right highway. It is here that he says: “I am not sure.”

 “You’re not sure?” I ask, almost too dumbfounded to speak. “But you said—”

 “I stated that you have borne witness to the Supernatural world. Whether or not you will be accepted into it I cannot know.”

 “You mean you’re telling me that I could have come all this way for nothing?”

 “Not for nothing,” Shadow says. “You will be granted an audience. A member of the executive board will see you. But it is their choice as to whether or not you will be allowed to undergo the assimilation and then begin integrating into the Supernatural world.”

 So, I think. My fate isn’t set in stone.

 From what he was saying, I could still have my memories erased, my experiences banished. To think that I could have come all this way—and have experienced all this agony, all this chaos—only for it to be washed away as if it was nothing?

 Don’t panic, I tell myself as Shadow continues to guide us onward. You’re still here, in the present, in the now, safe.

 Yet, even with that knowledge plainly at hand, the panic I experience is still the same. My chest is tight, my throat dry, my hands trembling as my fingers drum along my thighs. The fact that I’ve yet to break down is enough for me to reconsider my earlier habit, my previous dream—

 When Mama—

 I shake my head.

 No. I cannot afford to think about that. Not when there is so much at stake.

 Shadow, seemingly indifferent, continues to navigate through the city with a calm precision. Long fingers locked around the steering wheel, dark eyes set on the road, he continues to guide the vehicle along the interstate until he finally exits onto a frontage road. It is here that he begins to maneuver through the edge of Dallas, here where he turns down one road, guides us down another, leads us down a third road, and a fourth. The further we drive, the deeper into the city we go, which leaves me with a stunning thought.

 “Is the Agency in the city?” I ask.

 “It is,” Shadow replies. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”

 “I’m not worried for me,” I say. “At least… not… not really.”

 “No?” he asks.

 I shake my head. “No. I’m not worried. I… I trust you.”

 “I’m glad to hear that,” Shadow says. “Not many would in your circumstance.”

 “I imagine most don’t have a choice when they’ve had something like this happen.”

 “No. I imagine they don’t.”

 I lift my eyes to consider the buildings around us—at the towering skyscrapers, at the massive, block-shaped buildings beneath them. At this hour of the morning, the moon makes the many windows on the buildings glimmer like eyes in the twilight of the new morning. It makes me consider just what the Agency might look like and where it could possibly be.

 I have no sooner turned my head to regard Shadow when he turns onto a road—

 And it

 appears.

 Rising, from the ground, like a testament to a lost civilization, is a building that appears to have been carved from the blackest of onyx, that glimmers like diamond in the light from the moon. Towering above all else, this place—this pyramid,

 if ever there was one—appears iconic among its surroundings. It is almost enough to give me pause.

 “Is that—” I start to say.

 “The Agency?” Shadow asks. “Yes. It is.”

 “But, how—”

 “Is a building such as that remaining in plain sight?” Shadow smiles as he lifts his eyes to consider it. “You will learn, in time, that not everything you lay eyes upon can or will be seen by other people.”

 “So your people… the Agency… make those who see it… what? Forget?”

 “In a way, yes.”

 “How?”

 “There are cameras positioned around the entire building, each at various heights and angles. Behind them is a Wiper. When a plane passes, the passengers and people are Wiped; when a car drives by, its passengers are made to forget; and so on, and so forth.”

 “So there’s constant surveillance outside the building? Twenty-four-seven?”

 “Yes, Scarlet. There is.”

 “That’s impossible,” I say as we continue to approach the massive structure. “Surely that can’t be true.”

 “Our magic is what keeps our part of the world safe. You would be surprised at how far our influence extends.”This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

 I open my mouth to speak but stop as we pass under the building’s shadow. It is here that I feel a tug of sensation—a blanket of feeling wash over me. It is almost like becoming lightheaded, in that I feel dizzy at first, then grow more aware of the feeling a moment later.

 “Now you see what I mean,” Shadow says.

 “But how can I still—”

 He falls silent as we turn into an underground parking garage. It is here, during which the vehicle advances down a narrow hall made of chrome metal, that I realize we have entered the bowels of the building.

 As we arrive at a security checkpoint, within which an oddly nondescript man sits, Shadow reaches into his pocket, then lifts his wallet before revealing a metal star with a red ruby in the center of it.

 “Shadow,” he says. “Agent of the United States Agency for Supernatural Affiliations.”

 The unremarkable man lifts his spectacled eyes to view the beautifully shaped badge before him. “You can go,” he says.

 The blockade guarding our path rises; and soon, the car is rolling forward, into the darkened space.

 “I will forewarn you,” Shadow says as we turn into a vacant parking spot, “that you may see things that are upsetting. You should know that no one here should mean you harm.”

 “Should?” I ask and can’t help but frown.

 Shadow offers no reply. Rather, he kills the engine, pops the driver’s side door open, then turns to face me. “Come.”

 That one word is enough to beckon a world of anxieties.

 You have to get out of the car, I tell myself. You have to go, Scarlet.

 I know that. I know that more than well. But the fact is: I am terrified beyond belief over what might happen, over what will

 happen, over the reality that I might not be accepted, over the fact that I might be Wiped.

 What will happen, I ask myself, if I lose all my memories?

 Would I still technically be me? Or would I, Scarlet Jane, be a version different of myself? I suppose in theory that it wouldn’t matter, because I wouldn’t remember any of this, but where would the Agency put me if they were to make me forget everything?

 Shadow leans into the car. Asks, “Are you all right?”

 “I—” I manage to blurt out. “I don’t—”

 He narrows his eyes at me.

 Sighing, I allow my brain to relinquish its tight hold on my body and wait until my muscles loosen before pushing the passenger side door open. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t be scared.”

 “Why shouldn’t you be?” Shadow asks.

 “Because I’m here. With you. Safe. Or, at least, as safe as I can be, considering… well… what happened.”

 I close the door behind me—

 And almost instantly feel the sensation of eyes wandering across my person.

 The sound of footsteps enters my ears.

 A hand touches my shoulder.

 I grimace and recoil instantly.

 “Do you—” Shadow starts.

 “Not want to be touched?” I ask. “Yeah. I mean, no. I don’t.”

 I can’t explain it—at least, not in a way I can audibly express. For some reason, my brain is telling me that this man—this supreme being of Supernatural power—is not to touch me.

 I cross my arms over my chest and say, “We’re being watched,” to divert the attention away from myself.

 “Yes,” Shadow says. “How did you know?”

 “I can feel it. It’s raising the hairs on the back of my neck.”

 “You are very intuitive, Miss Brown. Please, follow me.”

 I do so, slowly, cautiously, and with trepidation I know is warranted considering the circumstance. He leads me down a block of parked cars, all of various shades and colors, and approaches a console that stands beside two awaiting elevators. Here, he pauses; and here, he considers the security camera embedded between the elevators before he begins to inserts a series of numbers into the console. At first, I try to keep up, thinking they might be important later on, but soon find myself too overwhelmed by his moving hands to memorize the combination.

 When Shadow finally finishes, a click sounds, the elevator door opens, and he says, “After you.”

 I step in with the grief of a girl who has lost everything and turn to face the parking garage with the weight of the world upon my shoulders.

 “I will warn you again,” Shadow says as the elevator doors close behind us, “that you may be afraid of things you may or may not see. Do not be.”

 “I won’t,” I say.

 Whether or not that will actually be the case I cannot be sure. Regardless, I straighten my posture, suck in a deep breath, and exhale it accordingly.

 You’re strong, I tell myself. You’re determined. You’re bold. You’re brave. You can withstand anything the world throws against you.

 Even despite those affirmations, which should have allowed me to stand evenly on two feet, there is the reality that I am still fractured. Like a porcelain doll at the edge of a shelf I am ready to break. One false move will send me to the floor.

 Shattering, I think, into a million pieces.

 I want to tell myself that I can be brave. That I can be strong. That I can be stalwart in my approach. I am incredibly bullheaded—and that, above all, has helped keep me going for all these years as a daughter to a single mother.

 Moments pass as the elevator begins to rise. As voices begin to echo into the space. As Shadow idly watches the watch as his wrist.

 “How high are we going?” I ask.

 “High enough,” he says.

 The elevator comes to a halt. Dings.

 Then the door opens, and Shadow says, “Follow me.”

 He leads me down a long, narrow hallway, within which are many doors. Resembling a motel in that its exterior appears incredibly professional, but cold and remote as if there are not many people here, the walls boast blue wallpaper with white accents, and black-and-white tile decorates the floor. Halfway up the hall, the wall to our right ends and opens up to reveal a long, panoramic window that looks out at downtown Dallas.

 It is here, at the pinnacle of what I feel might be in this place, that Shadow comes to a halt. That he reaches into his pocket. That he withdraws, then inserts a simple keycard into the door before pushing it open for me to see.

 “This is where you will stay for the time being,” the man says.

 “Alone?” I ask.

 Shadow nods.

 Stepping forward, I enter the room—and look first to my left, at the kitchenette that features a small refrigerator and microwave, then peer deeper into the room, to take note of a bed near an attached bathroom. This place, though small, is comforting and, while bland, will allow me at least some privacy in a place that, so far, appears far too alien to comprehend.

 “I will fetch you in a few hours,” Shadow says from his place near the doorway. “There’s food in the refrigerator, towels in the washroom, a fresh change of clothes at the end of the bed.”

 “They knew I was coming,” I say, “didn’t they?”

 “Yes,” Shadow says. “I informed them that I was traveling with a young woman and that she would need provisions.”

 “So… you’re not sure I’ll be staying?” I ask. “Whether I’ll be…” I swallow. “Accepted?”

 “As I said before: that will be up to the executive board of directors to decide.” Shadow begins to close the door. “Good night, Miss Brown.”

 “Good night,” I say and sigh as the door shuts.

 I approach the entryway and listen to the sound of his footsteps until they fade down the hall.

 Then I turn and collapse against the door.

 I cannot contain the tears that follow.

 Cold, alone, and desperate for answers, it doesn’t take much to realize how much the strange man had been helping me hold it together. With Shadow gone, there is no way to stop the floodgates from opening, the waters rushing in, the current as it comes crashing down. The only thing preventing me from screaming is the fact that I fear it will bring the Agency down upon me and bring with them who, or even God, knows what.

 My mother—

 That monster—

 That strange man—

 It is all too much.

 Still, there is the fact, and the knowledge, that I can do nothing in this moment; and as a result, I make my way down the hall, then into the bathroom.

 I disrobe, then climb into the shower, all with the knowledge that no one can see my tears.

 Not even me.

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Chapter 4: The Agency