Chapter 20: The Nightmare Dressed As A Daydream
Jenna
As the mature, responsible woman that I am, my team is my highest priority. However, once donuts enter the equation, my priorities shift. Therefore, I don't want anyone being a bitch and saying that I don't care about my team just because I stopped at Holy Donut! to grab a dozen. Make that two, actually. Now I know all you weird health crazies are saying " But Jenna, that's bad for you!". Well guess what softies? I don't care! I'm going to die anyways, might as well die happy with a few dozen donuts in my bloodstream while I'm at it! Surprisingly, parking wasn't terrible; although the fact that I went through the fly-through may have made a difference. Who knew they serve jet pilots?!
Still, arriving to an abandoned amusement park where there's a good chance your friends could be dead is quite the downer. Don't judge me, but I stuffed a few chocolate donuts in my pockets before I left the cockpit. These bits of serotonin may be my last source of joy for a while.
Logically, it would've been better to have my donut break in Kansas, but I'll leave the logistics to Richie. Besides, I need some time to digest! Being super fit and strong doesn't necessarily mean I have a high metabolism.
From Mississippi to Kansas is a surprising short trip, although the sonic jet I'm flying probably has a big impact on that. Once again, a job for Richie! Thanks to the incredibly annoying GPS, I finally found the abandoned park. I hovered over the grounds trying to find a good place to land. I finally settled on a small patch of grass in a field. The jet settled in between a ring of park benches, probably for picnicking. I stepped out the door, the wind hitting my face. "Its a beautiful day to kick some butt" I told myself. I made my way down the stairs and onto the soft grass. This area looked pretty nice for an abandoned theme park, not to mention the hidden evil base within it.
My team has to be around here somewhere. I set my mind on the center of the park, the Big Top, because if I was evil, that's the best place to control from. See, Mitchell isn't the only one with tactics. Kicking ass is a complicated scheme that takes planning and knowledge. Don't quote me on that, though. I am the type of person to just go in with guns blazing.
The park was covered in overgrowth: vines and leaves cascading from the roller coasters' peaks, the concession stands filled with rotting food (no doubt which Zach would still eat), and buildings and windows broken and painted on. Apparently someone named "Lil Biggie" had to let everyone who comes to this abandoned theme park that he was here. There's a plus to being the freak of a teenager that I am; I don't have to worry about deliquents being next to me, although the guys are a close second.
Honestly, abandoned theme parks aren't scary at all, in fact, they're fairly interesting. I'll have to come back here are punch through a few walls! Although I never do stick to my plans. I didn't need Mitchell or Sherlock Holmes to understand what people were going to do before they did it, the silver bat lying alone on the ground said everything for me. The Jester took my team, and even if she didn't, something terrible happened because Mitchell never lets that bat out of his sight. I needed to find them and fast, I don't even want to imagine what they could be getting themselves into right now. I would never tell them this, but I hope they're okay. When I find them, I'm going to bitch slap Richie first, then take them out for pizza and give them a hug. I can't stand my team and I hate them with all my heart, but what family doesn't.
First, I need to get back to Monique and she if she has found them yet. Without Zach, we really don't know how to work the computers but Monique is the next best person for the job. Sprinting to a jet with a metal bat in my hand is not fun. I have no idea how Mitchell endlessly carries this thing around; it's dreadfully unbalanced. Regardless, I boarded the jet, and took off. I need to get to the Academy as fast as I can.
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Surprisingly, flying a jet alone isn't as bad as you'd think. I get to blast my music without anyone complaining, the robotic staff constantly delivers me pizza, and I dont have to worry about Mitchell breathing down my neck about my flying! I need to do this more often! The only problem with it was that I couldn't stop thinking about my team. Although I may seem like a bitch to them, I really do care. I just need to talk to Grease; she'd know what to do. Also, I like her style of using large guns and explosives to solve problems. I couldn't help but smile. Seeing my team was finally filling me with joy, or maybe it has always been there. Nah.
After the longest hour of my life, I could finally see the huge tower that I called home. In hindsight, a gigantic tower probably isn't the best base, but oh well. Home sweet home, you know? I drove into the helicopter garage, hovering past the scorched walls, debris, and most importantly, another intact helicopter that wasn't there when I left. I took a deep breath as tears nearly welled up in my eyes as I felt a rush of relief come over me. My team is fine after all! Mitchell must have left his bat in a panic, but everyone could be okay. I at least hope Richie is okay so I can still get the slap in that I've been waiting an hour for. I practically jumped from the doors of the jet and sprinted for the elevator. The entire way down, I couldn't decide between anxiety and relief. "What if they aren't okay?" I asked myself. "Of course they're okay you idiot! The Jester must have failed because their jet is parked next to your's!" I contemplated how I should play this: either with the Surprise-bitches-I'm-back! or the Oh-my-god-how-dare-you-leave-me-behind! trick. Honestly, as long as I get my revenge on those little pricks I'll be fine.
Zach must have changed the elevator music because it was playing some upbeat jazz, which is kind of surprising because Zach really does not strike me as a jazzy person. Sadly, I know exactly who does.
I don't know if you have ever had that feeling of knowing you're in a daydream but not being able to break out of it because let me tell you, it is weird! Before I knew it, I wasn't standing in the confines of the Academy elevator anymore, now I was sitting in the middle of the field. There was a picnic basket by my side and a plate of bread and cheese over a flowery blanket. For some odd reason, I was sitting by myself, that is until I saw him. Preston walked towards me with a bouqet of flowers, their roots still covered in dirt. I remember this perfectly, the day after Mitchell arrived, the same day the Jester attacked.
Preston sat down next to me, the red, blue, and purple bouqet matching perfectly with prim white shirt and bright pink shorts. He had a small patches of dirt on his white shirt, I ouldn't help but laugh because I knew he'd have a fit if he saw it.
"These are for you," he said sitting next to me, "a beautiful bouqet for a beautiful girl" he said with his incredibly hot smile.
"Preston, where am I?"
"Smith Park, of course! Apple?" he said, handing be a bright red apple. A strnage ding sounded in the distance, like somone rang for a bellhop down the road.
I looked around frantically, whipping my head back and forth just hoping I could find someone I recognize.
"Where's Zach, Mitchell, Astrid, and Richie?!" I said.
"Zach and Mitchell are back at Headquarters, remeber? They said they rather die than third wheel. And I've never heard of Astrid or Richie. Are you okay Jenna?" he responded, furrowing his brow in an obnoxiously cute way.
"I'm fine! I just need to see the team!" I said, pushing myself up and off the blanket.
I felt Preston grab my hand, harder than I remember.
"Please Jenna! It's our day off, can't we just enjoy it?" he pleaded.
This is not how I remember this at all! But I must say, Preston does an incredibly convincing begging cat face: the whole teary eyes, frowning mouth, and staring right back at you until you give in. Two obnoxious people really do make the perfect couple.
"I suppose you're right." I said, slowly lowering myself back onto the blanket.
"Great!" he said with his brilliant smile as he wrapped his arm around me.
The park was gorgeous with families chasing each other and down hills, people barbecuing and laughing, and the sun rising beautifully in the distance. There's nothing like a cool Florida autumn day where you can sit with your boyfriend in a calm park while the day before you were in Manhattan battling an anonymous villian's robots. No. This isn't possible. Preston isn't the wonderful boyfriend I thought he was, he's the traitor that nearly killed Zach and Mitchell.
We sat together for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company when Preston turned and said the most bizarre and impossible thing to me.
"So, choosing to freeze me for all eternity rather than shoot me in the head huh. I guess I should say thank you."
I instantly responded, "Preston, you have to understand-" but stopped suddenly.
"Understand what? You choosing to torture me forever rather than finish me when you had the chance? Rookie mistake Kalinowski."
There was no way Preston could've known that and I definitely don't remember that happening in the park. I knew I was dreaming but could I be changing my own memories? Definitely not. I need to wake myself up somehow. I pinched my arm as hard as I could, recalling what my dad used to do to me if I spaced out during his long monologues of how I need togrow up to be a proper young lady. Bleh, thats a conversation for another day.
"Pinching yourself to wake up from a dream! Classic! You always did crack me up, Jenna!" he said. "I'm afraid those days are over." He pulled his favorite weapon from beside the blanket, his old bo staff, at pointed the tip at me. "Fifteen years of bojutsu, karate, and capoeira have prepared me for this, Jenna! I'll betray you later tonight, may as well do it now!"
He whipped the stick around, smacking me across the face. My eyes snapped open and I was back in the elevator, the doors just sliding open to the lounge. That was by far the weirdest flashback I've ever had. It's also the first so it surpassed incredibly low standards but amazingly odd regardless.
I dont' have time for any of this! Preston is frozen and locked in a cell in the basement! I have to find my team, rescue Mitchell (if he needs it), kick some evil clown ass, and bitch slap Richie across his dumb face for making me to Kansas and back; not necessarily in that order though. The lounge was completely empty, the televisions turned off, the couches bare, and only a half eaten slice of pizza (no doubt either Zach's or Richie's) to show that we were here. I took the stairs to the next floor up, the briefing rooms. Don't ask me why we have an entire floor dedicated to briefing offices when it is just six of us and Grease rarely leaves her garage, much less the building. A bright white glow came from the first room, and given all the other rooms were dark, it seemed pretty clear that someone had to of been in that room recently otherwise the computers would have shut off by now. I may not be the tech genius of the group, but I'm not completely clueless!
I quietly made my way down the hall, the glow eminating through the small windows in the double doors. I was no less than 5 feet from the doors when I heard an oddly relieving voice.
"We need to hurry." Richie said from somewhere in that room.
"I'm sorry! I'll just attach a few more wires to the computer to make it run faster!" Zach responded sarcasically.
I could here Richie pacing, the clump of shoes echoing. Something must be wrong because he only paces when the cafeteria is closed or when something is seriously wrong, and the cafeteria should be open.
I had to stand on my toes to peer through the window because I'm, apparently, ridiculously shorter than everyone else in the world. Through my limited view, I saw Richie's six foot frame blocking a glowing computer monitor, Astrid by his side. She leaned on a rolling chair in front of her where I could just barely see Zach's head poking above the cushion. I could hear Zach furiously typing, trying to do his nerdy hacking thing.
I pushed the door open slowly, hoping to sneak into the room. The door let out a long creak. I ducked in the corner of the wall, hidden by the door frame. I heard someone just on the other side of the door. They have to be looking out the small window, looking for whoever (me) pushed the door open.
Now, I know you guys are asking, "why are you hiding from your friends, Jenna?" As a spy, you learn that people keep secrets, especially since we live off of them. I'm just going to see what the situation is before I jump into it. You have to think smart if you're going to work with professional liars!
I could hear someone breathing heavily, no doubt, contemplating whether or not to investigate the sound.
"Richie," I heard Astrid call, "please don't lose it on us right now. We can grease the door later. Right now, we have to find Mitchell."
"I swear I heard someone!" he retorted. I didn't dare stand up; knowing Richie, he was still peering through that window just waiting for someone to appear.
"Maybe that's because there are two other people in a room with you?" Zach said.
"I know what I saw." Richie grunbled as I heard his footsteps echo further away from the door. I waited a few seconds, just to make sure there was no sign of anyone, then, I poked my head up again. They were all leaned over a computer again, their shadows casting brightly against the wall, partially glowing through the glass. I inched the door forward, careful to not make a sound. Naturally, no such luck. The door creaked and moaned as I slowly forced it open. I made a crack just big enough for me to slip through, slide past the icy cold steel, and hid in the shadows of the room. There was no way they should be able to see me from where I was. A huge closet blocked all the light the broadcasted my way. I could see through small holes in the metal, hear every word they said, and even had a plan in case I got caught. How did I not get spy of the month?!
I hunched down in the corner of the room, trying to make myself as small as possible. Sitting on your honches while wedged behind a locker is surprisingly comfortable. I'll have to remember this for future spy excursions.
Back to the point, Zach furiously mashed the keys on the keyboard. I heard the nonstop clicking of him rapidly searching the database, most likely for information on The Jester. I really wanted to pop out, scream surprise, scare the living crap out of my teammates and roast them for leaving me out of a mission, but I wanted to see where this was going. Maybe another day.
Finally, I heard the clicking stop. Peering through the holes, I could only see my team's back but half of the computer monitor reflected onto the wall in front of me, just barely letting me gather small amounts of information.
"Eureka!" Zach screamed.
"Really dude? That isn't cliche at all." Richie sarcastically responded.
"Great job. What next?" Astrid asked.
"Well, here's the part where we either band together or tear each other apart." He said.
Even though I couldn't see her face, I knew Astrid was making one hell of a curious face.
"Once I break this encryption, everything the Academy and the government knows about us will be revealed. I don't know in what order, but no doubt every secret any of us have ever tried to hide will appear one this screen."
"Great!" Astrid said, without a doubt flashing her winning smile. Then, the strangest thing happened: Astrid turned, and I saw the fear in her eyes. Not fear like seeing a spider on the wall, fear like the world would end; an expression I knew all too well. Just as fast, she turned back around, probably happy as can be.
I had to get a better view, some way to see their faces. I carefully tip-toed out from behind the closet and into the far corner of the room, hidden just out of reach of the emanating light.
Now, I could see only half of their faces, but it is better than nothing I suppose. What am I supposed to do, hide behind the computer they're using?
"Ready?" Zach asked as he hovered his finger over the button.
"I suppose." Richie answered, Astrid looking increasingly worried by the second. Are boys really this blind?
Zach pressed the enter key and a series of numbers raced across the screen until they all lined up and blinked as if someone had won the lottery. Then, the numbers disappeared and the screen went black.
"What happened?" Astrid asked. Just like that, the screen exploded in a flash of light as data raced across the screen, different files and folders being uploaded over each other until the were buried in a stack of open pages. I could barely read the different subjects race by: employee payroll, robotic settings, exercise plans. The list just went on and on.
"Gotcha!" Zach scremed as he chased a file across the screen. Once he blew it up, I could clearly read "Recruit information" as the title.
Perfect. I said to myself. The last thing they need to know is my birthday.
The file opened and I saw a big picture of Mitchell on screen. Sprawling text floated up the screen, no doubt information about him from West Point. Eventhough I could only read half of it, I knew what it said: model student, excellent canidate, brilliant tactician. I wasn't surprised how flawless his transcript was, most because he made sure we knew it. He's pretty much Captain America without the modesty. Then, Zach stopped scrolling. Honestly, I wasn't too surprised that he stopped becasue I was shocked when I read it. It was an expulsion from West Point after Mitchell broke another student's rib and gave him a black eye. All this time and we thought he had just transferred to the Academy. I thought I was the only one picked from detention! There goes my bad girl rep!
Richie and Zach were completely speechless, their mouths agape as they read through the desricption.
Astrid stopped them before they could say anything bad, and lucky for them, before the could say anything to make me mad. "We don't know the full story guys. It could be self defense."
Richie turned and said, "She's right. We will have to ask Mitchell after we rescue him. Right now we need to concentrate on finding where The Jester went."
They all turned back to the computer, continuing their search. As time passed, it became increasingly troubling to control myself from walking up to that computer and finding Mitchell's location myself. But the wait wasn't unentertaining.
Zach happened to stumble onto his own file, embarrassingly admitting he hacked into a restaurants server to get free food for life. Even better, it was his first time! He had gone all over Miami, hacking into databases to get free goods: food, clothes, even a bike. That is until he was arrested on South Beach for trying to impersonate a police chief. Funny enough, he joined the Academy before he got persecuted, escaping unscathed. I have to admit, the kid isn't as dumb as I thought. The best was when Richie's file popped up. An unexplainably large smile crept across my face when he said he had sassed a teacher for explaining a math problem wrong, proved the teacher to be incorrect, and proceeded to accept the teacher's sarcastic invitation to teach the class. Smart, sassy, and ridiculous. I hate him but he continues to grow on me. How obnoxious is that?!
However, with every file, I began to notice a pattern. Between Mitchell expulsion, Richie's and Astrid's rebellious attitudes, and Zach and my arrests, something was definitely off about our squad. The thing is, I knew why I'm a terrible person, but what's Astrid's story?
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It didn't take much more research to find the next file. I should play the lottery after this because it just so happened to be Astrid. She turned away in shock, staring right at me, the amount of sadness in her eyes was appalling; a feeling I knew all too well. She had to know I was standing here, looking me directly in the eye, even though there was no possible way she saw me. If she did, why hasn't she said something? I've been such a terrible person to her, if I caught her spying, I would've ratted her out by now. Before I could decide what to do, she walked away from the group, the boys completely oblivious, and leaning on the opposite wall. I knew she was trying her hardest to hold back her tears; I did the same thing in Juvie. All the boys could do was stare, horrified at the computer screen. What could she have possibly done that was so horrific?
Richie slowly turned, Astrid's back still facing them, "When were you going to tell us?" he asked. "Astrid, -" he began.
"Brianna." she interrupted. Richie stood, agast by her unpredicted steely tone.
"What?" he quietly asked. Please, as if he didn't hear her!
"Brianna. My name is Brianna." she said, turning to face the group. She leaned on the broken locker that was previously hid behind, her face contorted in pain; not like she had been punch in the gut, more like someone had punched her in her soul, unleashing all the rage she's supressed for so many years.
"Okay, Brianna. So-" Zach started, but Astrid death stare froze him in place.
"Just let me speak becasue you boys will never understand. None of you will ever understand. Not you two, not Mitchell, and not Jenna. You will never understand the pain of losing someone you love. And just when you think everything is okay again, the second best person breaks you heart. I can't believe I could be so naive, but it was my only chance. How could I trust two strangers who said I was too good for my prissy life. I had a nice home, two parents who obsessed over my 89% in Algebra, a little brother who blew me a kiss every morning before school, and a crappy job at a Chick-fil-E. I was normal, but I was so tired of being poor. So I made friends. Not the friends that you go to the mall on the weekends with, or talk shit with about other girls around you, or go to prom with in ballgowns. Nope. My friends went to the mall to shoplift diamond necklaces, and fight fuckboys on the side of the street who try my patience, or crash a ball for people who own multiple mansions. It was just us three: the three musketeers, the trouble trio, the A.I.A. . We weren't robbers or harden criminals. No, we were better than that. We didn't con people, in fact, they practically gave us what we wanted and we didn't have to do any work. We stole from banks up and down the East Coast, racking in millions. We made Jesse James look like a petty thief. That is until we got cocky. The worst part is is that it was my idea. Steal from Fort Knox, the ultimate heist, and get away with it. Talk about a way to make your mama proud."
Then, she turned, Richie and Zach slwoly walked away from the computers to be in her line of sight, but she wasn't looking at them. She looked me dead in the eye and said, "I caused the one I loved to die. I'm the reason Ariel was shot."
"Astrid. Who's Ariel?" Richie asked. Zach ran back to the computer, scrolled through a few things, and read, "Ariel Hemmings; age 14; convicted felon; died May 19, 2015 due to gun wound... Astrid, I-"
"Don't bother!" she said miserably. "She died of my stupidity! I'm the one who couldn't remember the maps! I'm the one who lead us into a dead end!"
Then, a single tear leaked from her eye, smudging her black eyeshadow, as she looked my way and said, "I'm the one who let her take a bullet for me."
Those few words, only one phrase, made me go beserk. I was so tired of holding in my rage. I was never mad at anyone in this academy except myself. I stormed from my concealed corner, straight through Zach and Richie, who I trucked apart, and strode right into Astrid's crying face.
"You think you have problems?! I wasn't in Juvie for theft like you! Watching someone die is nothing compared to killing them! I watched my father die in a rundown gas station on the side of a small road! I watched the color drain from his eyes!" Then, for some strange reason, I knew I had to finally address the problem I've been avoiding for years. I stared Astrid dead in the eyes, completely forgetting about the boys behind me, my eyes filling with tears, my heart filling with melancholy, "I'm the reason my father died, all because he wanted me to have a nice birthday!"
I whipped around nearly in Zach's face. " Go ahead, scroll through my file! I'm sure it says all you need to know about me!"
He moved to check the computer but stopped himself as he realized my sarcasm.
All my anger turned to sorrow. The memory of my father is a depressing one; something a girl never forgets.
" I can recall the night perfectly. Not through melancholy, though, through trauma. My family isn't like yours: my mom left us when I was 4, my father struggled to keep a job, and I lived in 6 homeless shelters and under 2 bridges. My weekends weren't waiting for a friend to call or going to the mall, I waited for stores to close so I could dumpster dive. Still, my dad tried his best to make me happy. He used to bring home little knick-knacks that he found wandering the street, even though I was twice the age they were meant for. He never gave up and neither did I. I got a job at a small clothing store and everything started to get better. On my fourteenth birthday, my dad thought it would be fun to take me on a trip. He showed me a small Toyota Corolla he borrowed from a friend he met. Little did I know our trip was to rob a gas station. I had no idea my dad and his friends got into criminal activity until he pulled into the lot and handed me a Glock. I was too terrified to abstain, too scared to watch this blow up in his face. So I played along. Until my dad shot the cashier and high fives his buddy. It's the people you love, the people you think you know that surprise, terrify, and hurt you the most."
As usual, I began to get tearyeyed at the next part: the part where I become a murderer at the ripe old age of 14.
" I had no idea what the button would do. My dad said search every inch of the store, so I did."
Now, I was full out bawling. Tears streamed down my face. I made no attempt to brush them away. My dad used to say "Big girls don't cry". Well, looks like he's wrong about one thing.
"I triggered the silent alarm. Within minutes the police were outside surrounding the building. My father refused to give up, the stubborn prick that he is. We hid behind counters of Twinkies and Snowballs for a few minutes, refusing to surrender. Eventually, the cops got impatient and stormed the store. When an officer grabbed me, my dad shot him in the chest, only to be shot himself. I can still remember the deafening sound of his lifeless body hitting the floor, my insane screams filling the store, and the cops wrestling me off of his body. That was when I shot a cop. I became one of the most famous criminal in America when I was 14. What did you guys do? Algebra homework? You still think you're the only monster on the team?"
I began to bawl, tears profusely inching down my face. All the emotions I've been hiding since Julie were finally coming out. The protective bubble I'd worked so hard to create had finally popped.
The stupid behemoth that Richie is finally discovered that I'm here, despite me screaming in his friends face and knocking him senseless.
"Jenna! You're back!" he said stupidly surprised.
I stormed over to the idiot who was still recovering, leaning on the desk. He stood up just in time for me to do what I've been waiting for since I reached Joyland. Just as he was about to open his mouth and, no doubt, say something stupid, I backhanded him as hard as I could, throwing all of my anger into that one swing.
He toppled over (it was even more gratifying than I imagined!) and fell sprawled on the floor holding his jaw. I stood over him as he struggled to stand. Although I'm a foot