MTOHS - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Eric ~ Word Count: 3093

Forber droned on for what felt like forever, but I was too distracted to notice what he was talking about. Though the rest of the room was silent, the weight of last night hung over everyone’s thoughts. I’d always been able to sense the atmosphere of a room, but now it was somehow heavier, as if it physically pressed down on my shoulders and threatened to crush me. I couldn’t shut out the influence tingling on my skin, making the feeling of the room louder than any words Forber could have said.

I crossed my arms and leaned back, my clothes quietly squeaking against the glass as I shifted my weight from my feet. No one noticed. I felt like everyone should have.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were eyes on me, exacerbated by the fact that this conference room felt like a glass prison. While it was a Saturday and the entire floor was barren, I still imaged the world was looking in and could see right through me.

One of my hands absently rubbed the scar hidden under my sleeve. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it didn’t need to. The grooves felt foreign under my fingertips as I made out each individual letter (T … R … A), and each pass brought a new wave of emotion that caught in my throat. My chest was so tight, I wanted to cough, but it would be too loud, too noticeable.

My gaze flickered to Rachel. She kept her body facing forward and away from me, still trying to catch the words Forber was saying. Her posture was neutral, leaning gently against the back of her chair with her shoulders slumped. Every once and a while, William would lean over and whisper something into her ear. She’d nod thoughtfully and mutter something back or flip through the pages of notes left in front of her. Then he’d return to fiddling with whatever tech was disassembled in front of him.

I didn’t actually bother listening to them—it was just something work related—but I wanted to be the one seated next to her in place of him. Maybe it would make this whole thing feel more normal. Or at least that it could be okay.

The longer I watched, the more obvious it became that the calm was just a mask she’d put up. Her energy was wild like imaginary sparks flew from her arms as she bristled at something Forber said. It wasn’t often that Rachel became angry, at least not visibly, but she certainly was now. I had to be one of the reasons for that, even if she wasn’t going to let me know. Not yet.

My fingernails dug into the skin of my arm to pull me back to my own mind. I didn’t like to pry too much.

I watched her for a couple more minutes, but she didn’t even slightly turn in my direction. Even when Forber finished his speech and waved his hand for us to disperse, she didn’t budge. Instead, she slowly leafed through the stack of papers settled in front of her and made a few more comments to William, who frantically as he collected his device into a small box. I pressed my back against the glass to make room for everyone else trying to hurry out of the stuffy room.

A minute or two passed, and she was still waiting at the table. Most of the room had already cleared out, save for William. He had walked up to the front to catch Forber for something. Perhaps she was just waiting for that conversation to end. But I didn’t want to just stay and watch her, so I took a couple of steps forward.

At that moment, she turned her upper body to the side and gave me a glance. Her face was still completely neutral, but a sharp crack of energy sounded in my ears and fizzled down my neck. A painful smile contorted her lips. “Hi, Eric. Were you waiting for me?”

Her words slashed at me with their sweetness. I struggled to match her politeness by saying, “Yeah. Wanted to see how you are.”

The pages in her hand crinkled as her knuckles turned white. Another spark, this time matched with clenching teeth and a squint in her eyes. “How I am? I’m glad to know that you’re alive. And even happier that I found that out through a work meeting.” She shook her head to move a stray strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes, using the motion to mask her falling smile.

“Oh, I…” I didn’t know how to respond to that. There wasn’t a line in Splinter’s book on how to comfort your girlfriend on your random disappearance. “I got the call late in the night, and I didn’t want to wake you—”

“I don’t want your excuses right now.” Pleasantries over, her face fell, and a look of determination spread on her face. “I don’t have time to deal with you right now. You’re alive, and that’s what matters. I have work I have to do, Eric.” She motioned to the stack of pages in her hand while also glancing in the direction of William and Forber, who seemed to be having a heated but hushed discussion.

My heart fell into my stomach, and I swallowed hard. That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting her to have. Well… I didn’t really know what I was expecting.

She pressed her lips together and gave me another hard look. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? We’ll talk.” At that, she turned back to the table, probably to tune into what was being said. Then, that was the end of the conversation. No affectionate touches, no comforting words, nothing. I deserve it, don’t I? The scar says so.

My immediate reaction was to steel my mental barriers, even though I was confident there was no one in the room who could sense my thoughts, especially not Rachel.

Not wanting her to think anything was amiss, I replied calmly and sweetly, “Yeah, see you tonight. I love you.” She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but it was almost as if those last words made her flinch. A second or two passed before I realized she wasn’t going to say it back. My scar burned.

I retreated from the conference room to leave her to her devices. Surprisingly, the hall was completely empty at this point. Normally after meetings, there were groups of people loitering, planning, catching up, or just being friendly. Not today. Everyone had something to do, somewhere to be, and typically I would too, but I felt lost and out of place. What was I supposed to do? I had a perfectly valid excuse to head home for the evening, since everyone thought I’d been out patrolling all night. But being alone in the apartment I shared with Rachel sounded like the last thing I wanted to do right now.

So, I just took a deep breath and headed for the stairs. My office was located on the floor above anyway. There was bound to be something I could fill my time with, especially in the aftermath of … last night’s event.

With everything else that had happened, it had been surprisingly easy for me to block out the way the night had started. I didn’t want to think about those agents, at least not more than I had to, but now it was the center of every conversation. They had faces, names, and memories that I couldn’t just ignore. Now they would be reduced to the new faces of the next policy rewrites or the next news headline: 6 DAI Agents Dead – Splinter on the Rise! All because they were unfortunate enough to be on call on the wrong night at the wrong time.

Thoughts swarmed my mind, and I couldn’t focus on any one thing. The only resounding thought was that I could have prevented it all. After all, they wouldn’t have been in the way of Grey’s wrath if I hadn’t been doing Splinter’s dirty work.

I flinched. I could practically hear Cobalt’s voice. And the only reason Grey was angry was because you’d defied the Leader’s instructions in the first place.

The door of the stairwell slammed closed behind me, pulling me back out of my thoughts. Right. I had work to do. I shook my head and told myself that it didn’t matter right now. What was done was done, and the only thing I could do was walk up these stairs and find something to occupy my mind.

The sixth floor was eerily quiet. On a normal day, I would be greeted by a light, optimistic feeling as a hum of voices drifted down the hall from the offices lining the floor. Instead, I was met with more heaviness and an equally oppressive silence. I let out a sigh. I’d at least expected the other team leads to be here—there was always some kind of branch debrief after situations like this.

I walked for a few minutes under dimmed fluorescent lights, peering into dark offices behind mostly closed doors. Signs of life started to show as I approached the middle section of the floor. The overhead lights brightened to cast a harsh glare against rows of computers positioned on cramped looking desks. These were the temp desks for agents that spent most of their time on the field, so most of them were fairly sparse, with maybe a couple of files discarded over the weekend.

A couple of people I didn’t recognize were huddled around a circle desk in the back corner, hurriedly whispering about something. They didn’t notice me as I peered over at them, but I didn’t mind. They were wearing civilian clothes, so they probably weren’t coming from the investigation site.

Before I could open my mouth and ask what they were up to, a ding sounded from the elevator bay a couple of feet in front of me. Two women stepped out, engrossed in their conversation. One of them, Charlie Baylor was the person who was basically my direct boss, and the other was her boss, Congresswoman Vanessa Roberts. It shouldn’t have shocked me that they would make an appearance today, but I was hoping I’d already endured enough high stakes meetings.

Vanessa was dressed as if she were about to speak to a room full of business tycoons instead of the dredges of a team that could be pulled out of bed this morning. Her sleeveless white blouse rustled as she walked, which she had tucked into a pair of silk navy slacks. Her black heels clicked against the floor’s cheap tile before she paused in the foyer, her hand finding its home on top of her hip. She surveyed the pitiful display of an office in front of her with a scowl scratched onto her face.

“Charlotte, where is the rest of your leaders?” she asked, her voice flat but clearly frustrated. “It looks like a ghost town.”

Charlie simply wore a standard uniform, with a bulletproof vest still strapped to her chest. Exhaustion tugged at her eyelids as she held back a sigh. I wondered how many hours she’d already been up. “Ma’am, as I explained earlier, a number of them are still on the site assisting the investigation. Many will be joining us virtually.”

At that, Vanessa strode a few steps forward, and her gaze locked onto me, even though she was still speaking to Charlie. “Well, let’s hurry along. I don’t appreciate being left out of the loop too long.” I didn’t react, not that I knew how to. I’d never met Vanessa in person since I only became the leader of a four-agent team two months ago. Before that, I wasn’t even high profile enough to be in the same room as her.

Charlie noticed me too, and relief spread on her face. “Mrs. Roberts, this is Eric Braxton, one of last night’s first respondents. He was patrolling surrounding areas, but he’s familiar with our current understanding of the events, right Eric?” She motioned me over with urgency and clearly expected a response.

I swallowed the last of my apprehension and decided all I could do now was lean into my fate. I’d interacted enough times with Forber to know what the higher ups liked. I pulled together my best mask, starting with a gracious smile that spread across my entire face.

My feet covered the distance quickly, and I offered a hand to her when I reached them. “Good morning, Mrs. Roberts. Yes, I have plenty of context on the horrific incident.” My other hand lightly touched my chest, feigning an empathetic response.

Vanessa took the bait and gave me a firm handshake, but her expression didn’t change. “I’m glad to know someone around here knows something. I was beginning to think no one did.” Charlie mentally flinched at the comment, but the only thing that showed on her face was weariness. Instead, she turned on her heels and stalked down the hall opposite from where I came. Vanessa easily matched her brisk stride, but I tried not to stumble too much when I followed.

After a couple of minutes, we’d made it into yet another conference room, this one boxed in by gray brick walls. Vanessa immediately took a seat at the head of the table and started looking around at the sparse propaganda plastered around the room. She looked almost bored, but her mind was buzzing with thoughts about the press conference she and Forber would be hosting in the afternoon.

Meanwhile, Charlie powered on a giant monitor. It projected her clicking through a couple of files on the connected computer, but only one caught my attention: the mask repository. It was left as the background while she started setting up the video conference. Having seen another two of Splinter’s officers for myself last night, I wanted to know any information I could get on them. And I’d be able to find out more about them just by knowing what their masks look like.

Though she had fallen silent for the last few moments, Vanessa also noticed the repository. In a flat and stern voice, the woman gestured towards me and asked, “So, what is the purpose of looking at these masks now?”

Charlie kept her focus on the computer screen, leaving me no choice but to answer. “Well, ma’am, the mask repository is a database where we keep track of the most prominent influence users by the only way we can identify them: their mask.”

She rolled her eyes, followed by an irritated glare. “I’m aware of why the information exists, Mr. Braxton. How does it help us now? If I recall, the attacker was disguised with a Class One mask, meaning we can’t connect their mask to anything in the repository.”

A mix of frustration and embarrassment surged through me, and I fought to keep it from showing by giving another polite smile. “Right. However, we have both physical and video evidence we can use to predict who we might be dealing with. Afterall, if they’re in the city now, it’s likely they’ll come back, and we need to be prepared. Along with the mask, the repository keeps track of common behaviors, patterns of influence, and other information we might find useful.”

At the end of my explanation, my boss looked up with a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Eric is exactly right. There’s speculation that we may be dealing with a Class Four, some of the most dangerous influence users just after the Leader himself. And if history says anything, the Leader typically shows up in locations after we’ve detected Class Fours. We may have a much bigger issue to deal with than a few dead agents.”

A chill ran down my spine. I was relieved that my team was responding so quickly to the threat I knew was mounting, but it still put me in a difficult spot. I had to choose my words carefully, knowing that if I hinted at knowing more than I should, it could cast suspicion on me. I already felt exhausted, and we hadn’t even started planning.

“Another question, then, Charlotte,” Vanessa said, a frown scrunching up her face. “What are we going to do with that information? Are we prepared to deal with something larger if we can’t even handle this situation?” A beat of silence passed between us before she added. “How am I supposed to reassure the public as a cofounder of an organization that is ineffective at completing its sole purpose? Last night’s response only highlights it.” Charlie looked stunned at Vanessa’s bluntness, pausing to look up and stare at her. Even her thoughts had momentarily gone silent.

I cleared my throat and spoke up. “If I may, Mrs. Roberts.” The woman’s head snapped towards me with the same harsh, calculating glare.

My heartbeat roared loud in my ears as I took a deep breath. This was something I’d heard in the thoughts of almost every agent, but it always went unspoken. Something I wondered a lot myself, especially recently with the scars and guilt burned into my skin. But it was something I couldn’t give in to if I wanted to keep myself going.

“It’s easy to get caught up in the scary impossibility of what these people we are dealing with can do,” I began, matching her gaze with another diffusing smile. “But we have to remember that these are still people. They have their strengths and their weaknesses. This is an uphill battle, but it is not already lost.”

I gestured to the screen, pointing at two masks settled under the label “Class Three” with red squares around their images. “I’m the agent that killed two Class Threes just weeks ago. Using them and their masks, we’ve been able to advance leaps and bounds to catch up in the race against Splinter. As leaders and guardians, we can’t show our own weakness to those we are trying to protect. We have to keep inspiring hope.”

There was another beat or two of silence. Charlie stayed buried in her monitor, but a very slight smile cracked on Vanessa’s face. She continued to look at me, but she cocked her head to the side as if she hadn’t figured me out yet. Even if she could read my thoughts, I doubted she’d be able to.