Ruby Bevans

‘Elementary mistake’I heard Mia in my ear, I grabbed the earpiece in anger and tried to pull it out but it was stuck hard in my ear. I grappled at it for a moment before Jackson appeared at my side; he took my wrist and started to run towards a car park,

“What are you doing?!” I cried,

“Improvising!” he replied, a car was hovering outside a small corner shop; Jackson opened the driver’s door and pointed his gun at the driver. The man in the car looked alarmed, Jackson grabbed his shirt and pulled him out the car, “Get in!” he demanded, I ran round the car and climbed into the passenger seat. Jackson put the car into first gear and we set off, the man chased after the car but soon gave up. The car made a funny roaring sound and it began to jerk,

“What’s going on?” I cried grabbing the dashboard,

“I’ve never driven a manual car before!” he replied,

“Use the pedal to change gears!” I instructed, Jackson’s foot pressed down on the break and we jolted to a halt,

“Nope, not that pedal…” he smiled and then found the clutch; we set off again but not fast enough for the car behind who crashed gently into the back bumper. We were jerked forward, I was getting upset,

“Faster!” I called, Jackson pressed the gas and changed up into second gear, “Good,” I commented,

“Where’s the airport?” he asked looking around,

“Eyes on the road!” I yelled as we swerved across the pavement, “What do all these signs say?” I asked Jackson,

“I don’t know!” he yelled back, “I don’t speak Chinese!” the engine was roaring loudly,

“Change the darn gear!” I shouted,

“Do you want to drive?” Jackson demanded,

“There’s no time!” I retorted, the engine quietened as Jackson maneuvered into third, “Take the next right!” I cried seeing an ideogram of an airplane. As soon as we rounded the corner we could see the airport, “Go go go!” I cried,

“I AM!” Jackson boomed, I cowered back in my seat, “God, you’re the worst backseat driver ever!”

“I’m not in the backseat,” I muttered, Jackson couldn’t help but smile slightly,

‘We can’t see your van.’Aaron stated,

“We’re in a car,” Jackson said into the mouthpiece, “and we’re here,” we left the car with the keys still in the ignition and ran towards the airport. Aaron rounded us off and led us round the back of the airport; he was wearing dark shades and a leather jacket. He pointed across the runways to a sleek black jet; it was streamline and looked very, very fast. You couldn’t have rubbed Jackson’s grin off his face for anything, but I was a little more intimidated as we were strapped in and given earphones with mouthpieces. The jet’s energy built up and soon it was roaring beneath us as if we were on top of a volcano about to explode, we seemed to get faster and faster as the G-force pushed us into our seats. Then suddenly we were in the air, Jackson one side of me and Aaron the other, the engine still roared but it was quieter than the takeoff and I could speak down the microphone to the boys.

“Did we pass Aaron?” I asked,

“I’m not your assessor,” he replied,

“What happened to the van?” Jackson asked,

“Do you really want to know?” Aaron asked,

“Yes,” we both replied,

“As soon as you had gone back through the hotel doors, Chzman came and blew the van up, he thought you were inside and you probably would have been had you not forgotten to get the ID card. In this instance, your mistake was also your liberator; your carelessness saved your lives.” Neither Jackson or I could say anything, we’d both have been dead had we not forgotten the ID, suddenly it hit me how much my life had changed in a matter of a few days. A silent tear rolled down my cheek as I realized there was no going back,

“Aaron,” I spoke, “has anyone ever gone back into society once they joined The Vortex?” I questioned, he didn’t reply for a minute and I thought he hadn’t heard,

“There are rumors,” he began, “that once you become an agent; you’re released out into the world to live undercover with a new identity,”

“Only rumors?”

“Agents are almost invisible, I’ve never met one and I know they are few and far between, very few recruits make it through the first year,”

“What do you mean, make it through?”

“Make it through, without being cancelled,” Aaron replied, I swallowed,

“What kind of percentages?” Jackson asked,

“7% make it,”

“So you’re saying we have a 93% chance that we won’t survive the year?” I asked,

“Well actually, some recruits join intelligence or computing, stuff like that, only 7% make it to agent status."

The End

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