Chapter 2: The Mark's Curse

Rachel groaned for a bit, she could swear there was some sort of light shining right into her face. Had she forgotten to turn off her nightlight before going to bed again? Or was it the curtains she didn't close, either?

"Honestly! Does it always have to be so bright this early in the morning?" she thought to herself.

Getting up meant another day of work on Global Command. Another day of handing out assignments she had zero time to take on, herself. Or worse still, yet another day of filling out paperwork for Hamster regulations.

At this point, she felt more inclined stay curled up in bed all day and let Herbie deal with it. Filling out all of the Hamster Unionization forms in one go had been his idea, after all. Not hers.

Wait a minute…Her bed? Her nice, warm bed? Wasn't she fighting off Grandfather just now? What was going on, exactly?

She opened her chocolate eyes to get an answer, only to find herself in her purple tinted bedroom, with its expensive furniture, and the shelf dedicated to Doctor Time Space in the corner next to her closet.

The little girl continued laying in the same spot for a moment, and in a dazed state, no less. It was hard to tell if she was still dreaming, or not.

But soon, her concentration came into focus. She could feel the soft sheets she was sleeping on, the knots in her hair she would need to comb out later, even the left over sleep in her eyelashes.

"It was all a dream," she happily chirped aloud.

There was no question about it; she was in the world of the waking.

With a small sigh of relief, the young blonde sat up in her bed and raised her arms high above her head. It's like her father always used to say; nothing like a good stretch to start the day off.

But while Rachel felt great after a (mostly) good night's rest, something still felt off to her. Her right hand; it felt dry, and cramped.

"That's strange…Why does my-"

She froze as soon as her hand came into vision. It couldn't be possible. No, it shouldn't be possible. The whole thing with Grandfather, it was just a dream, right? She was awake, now, yes?

Well, that wasn't possible, either. Because what she stared at, was her hand. Her (now) giant, clawed, desaturated Citizombie hand, to be exact.

A clever hoax, or a nightmare come true? Rachel couldn't be sure. The only thing she did know for certain, was that she was terrified. Enough that she let high, ear piercing scream.

Of course, her screams did not go unheard. For seconds later, two people burst into the young blonde's room. The first, was Harvey McKenzie, or Numbuh 363, Head or Sector W and Rachel's little brother. The other, was Helga, the McKenzie's trustworthy maid and care taker.

Both of them entered the room, simultaneously. Armed with their own unique weaponry, just in case.

In Harvey's tiny hands, he held a BOTTLER, his finger ready to pull the trigger at any time, if necessary. But Helga? She carried a metal bat. It wasn't anything fancy, no. But it would certainly get the job done.

"Miss Rachel…Huh?" said Helga, confused at what she saw.

Instead of being in peril, like she had assumed, her Mistress was lying awake in bed. Her body covered entirely by the magenta comforter, and a small smile on her face.

"Oh, Harvey. Helga. Good morning," said Rachel. "Pretty rare to see you two up so early on a Saturday."

Her tone was sweet and cheerful, and perhaps a touch sarcastic. Regardless, that tone of voice made Helga raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Miss Rachel, are you feeling alright?" the middle aged woman asked.

"Oh…not really…I just have a really bad tummy ache, right now," the girl explained.

After hearing her explanation, Harvey couldn't help but raise his own eyebrow, though not in suspicion. Rather, he raised his eyebrow in annoyance.

"Wait; that's why you screamed at the top of your lungs and woke us up!?" he asked.

"Oh…that…," she said with a nervous chuckle. "I just realized that I have a ton of work to catch up on, and depending on how I'm feeling by lunch, I may need to pull an all nighter, again."

"Enough that you'd scream bloody murder?" Helga asked.

Rachel cringed at that question. As if the (suspicious) tone of her voice wasn't enough, the stern, cold look on her face made it clear that the middle aged woman refused to buy that little, white lie.

"Well…I admit that was an…overreaction on my part," she sweetly replied. "But I'm sure that things'll work out better than I expect them to. They always do, right?"

Sadly, this didn't diffuse Helga's suspicion. Why her Mistress was lying to her face, she didn't know. Still, she chose to let it go with a disgruntled sigh.

"Well, if you're going to stay home this morning, tell me…Is there anything special you would like for breakfast once your stomach is feeling better?" the maid asked.

Hearing that question, made Rachel sigh with relief.

"Uh…How about a bacon and cheese omelette?" she asked.

Once she got an answer, Helga's face softened into a smile.

"Very well, I'll see to it that you get one, today. Sleep well, Miss Rachel," she calmly replied.

She then quietly made her way back into the hallway, gently scurrying Harvey out of his sisters' room as she closed the door. Her hand just inches away from the boy, making sure she didn't actually touch him.

When they were back in the hallway, the buck-toothed boy couldn't help but pout at the adult walking beside him.

"No fair! How come Rachel gets to stay home "sick", and I don't?" he asked aloud.

"Because if Miss Rachel wanted us to know what was going on, she would have told us," Helga explained.

The bratty boy ceased his whining the moment he heard his maids' explanation.

"Oh yeah," he replied.

…..

Back in her room, Rachel let out another relieved sigh as she pulled the cursed hand up from underneath her bedsheets.

The night before, it looked just like any other hand you may find on any young girl her age. Now, it was so old and wrinkled looking, she couldn't help but stare at it in disgust.

How could she have been so ignorant? Grandfather was almost God-like in his power; it's why he was why he was so intimidating, to begin with. What made her think he couldn't invade or inflict damage on someone in their dream realm? Much less her own?

Still, the old man had made one thing perfectly clear to the young blonde; he had chosen her, specifically, to be his Herald. Even worse, he was prepared to blackmail her into it, by any means necessary.

Never the less, the young blonde decided to keep any of these negatives feelings she was having at bay. Surely there had to be a way to reverse this spell put upon her, yes? No, of course there had to be a way. It would probably require a little more research, is all.

But there was still one, important question on her mind. A question that would need an immediate answer.

"Well, at least I have the morning off, for once," she thought over. "Now all I need is someone to call in sick for me."

Yes. But who could she ask to call in sick for her?

Fanny? Not likely. While the Global Tactical Officer would be her best choice, there's no way it would happen. The Irish girl had come down with a bad case of head cold, and was still recovering. Even if they were best friends, Rachel felt wrong about disturbing her.

Sector V? Out of the question. Sure, they'd have no problem calling sick for their dear friend and superior. But both Nigel, and Abigail will most likely grow suspicious from her cover story. Plus, there was the issue of Alex, and her ability to sense peoples' auras.

Harvey? Again, it was out of the question. He was already suspicious (and annoyed) of her weird behaviour from a few minutes ago, there was no doubt in her mind that he'd pry her for information regarding why she would need him to call in sick on her behalf.

Was there anyone else? Well, yes, actually; Patton. But that realization made Rachel groan in regret. She really didn't want to lie to him, of all people. Though at this point, what choice did she have?

With a regretful sigh, the young blonde grabbed her cell phone and went to dial the boys' cell phone number. Unfortunately, she had momentarily forgotten about her giant hand, and thus, didn't realize she was pushing two buttons at once until she heard them go off at the same time.

She growled in frustration.

"Of course it had to be my dominant hand. Why wouldn't it be?" the girl asked herself as she began dialling Patton's number with her left hand.

….

Patton, meanwhile, was sitting comfortably in his kitchen chair and taking in the the rays of the sunlight that gently spilt into his houses' small, yet cozy kitchen. It was one of the perks of being Drill Sergeant Supreme of Kids Next Door Arctic Base, as far as he was concerned. Sure,

he had to get up early, make sure he could be ready to leave home, and then be there for 9 AM., sharp. But it was worth it, especially when he could feel the warm sun on his face so early in the day.

Most kids in his position would probably hate having to be up so early, especially during their summer vacation, no less. But the fact that Patton was so eager to be up at such an early hour of the day should come as a surprise to anyone who knew him, well.

After all, he was Numbuh 60; the infamous, hard working military operative, who followed the Kids Next Door's Drill Sergeant Supreme Guidebook to the letter. Even if he was tired, a little sleep loss wouldn't stop him from keeping up with punctuality.

Besides, being an early riser (certainly) had other benefits. For Patton, in particular, it meant that he got to watch his best friend and second in command, Jeffery, or Numbuh 600 stuff himself silly with his moms' neighbourhood famous pancakes.

"Keep em' coming, Mrs. Drilovsky!" the blue eyed boy happily chirped with a stuffed mouth of food.

His request was soon answered when a pretty, young woman with long, black hair happily walked over with a plate of fresh, stacked pancakes.

Who was this woman? Why it was none other than Patton's mom, Lilian Drilovsky.

"There you go, Jeffery. A fresh plate of pancakes with extra maple syrup; just the way you like it!" she happily chirped.

Of course, what she didn't see was Jeffery eyeing the plate, drooling over the freshly prepared food with the utmost delight, like he was a dog salivating over a fresh, juicy steak.

"Mrs. Drilovsky, you make the best pancakes in the whole town!" the boy happily replied before he began cutting up his pancakes.

"Oh, thank you. Anything for my guests," she sweetly replied. "Oh, that reminds me; Patton, sweetie, would you like seconds?"

"That's okay, mom," he replied.

Though not before beaming a devilish smirk towards his gluttonous friend.

"I'm good with Jeff's Breakfast Show routine," the young boy deviously remarked.

Jeffery on the other hand, shot him an annoyed glance.

Though before the blue eyed boy could say anything in his defence, a loud, obnoxious beeping sound could be heard, and it was coming from one of the pockets on Patton's cargo pants.

It took the boy a second to realize that it was his cell phones' ring tone, but not long at all before he pulled the black object out to check the caller ID.

That's what puzzled him, though; it said "Out of Area." Who did he know that didn't live in his direct vicinity? Well, whoever it was, Patton got up from his chair and walked over the front hall for some privacy.

Now that he could finally be by himself, the young boy lifted up the cell phone cover and pressed the device to his ear, curious to know who this mystery caller was.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hi, Patton," said a familiar voice that made Patton's eyes widen in surprise.

It didn't take long for the boy to recover, though. Not even a minute went by, and already, that signature, Drilovsky smirk was back on his face.

"Rachel, hi. So what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you so early in the morning?" he asked, flirtatiously. "Did I act too impulsively for your tastes, again?"

"Cut the jokes, Patton. I need you to do a favour for me," she replied.

Upon hearing her say that she needed a favour, Patton's face and demeanour turned serious. Sure, Rachel never asked for favours often, especially from him. But he was more than happy to oblige if she needed one.

"Sure. What's going on?" he asked.

"Well, you see. I had an accident this morning," she explained. "I fell out of bed and broke my arm."

"You broke your arm!?" the boy nearly screamed into the phone. "How did that happen!?"

"Oh, I don't know," she lied through her teeth. "I guess I was still asleep when I went to go turn off my alarm, and I fell out of bed."

Now that he'd listened to her entire story, the young boy breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn't anything too serious.

"Oh, that's a relief," he replied. "So, what do you need then?

"Well, I was wondering if you could call in sick for me? I'll be back after lunch, so that shouldn't be too hard on Herbie," she sweetly explained.

This, however, made Patton raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Why can't you just do that, yourself?" he asked.

"Well, I would, but my computer is on the fritz, right now, so I can't really call, myself. You know?" she asked.

"Oh, okay," said the boy.

So her computer was on the fritz? It happens to everyone at some point, the boy knew that better than anyone when his dad's laptop nearly fried itself, last month. Maybe Jeffrey was right; maybe being in the Kids Next Door for too long really had made him paranoid.

"If you want, Rache, I could come pick you up during my lunch break," he offered. "That way, you won't have to take the shuttle to Global Command-"

"No!" she screeched into the phone, surprising him.

"I mean, don't worry about it, Patton. I can get there on my own, okay?" she reassured him.

It's a good thing they weren't communicating through video transmission, otherwise she would have seen the suspicious glare on Patton's face right about now.

"Sure, that's fine," he replied.

"Alright then. Thank you, Patton," she chirped sweetly.

"Yeah, don't mention it," he replied. "See you later."

"Thanks, you too," she replied as she hung up on her end of the phone.

Patton soon followed suit and hung up on his end, too. Still, he couldn't help but continue staring at his phone, lost in thought.

He knew her long enough to know when she was lying through her teeth. Whether she had good reason to do so or not, he couldn't tell for sure. He was certain of one thing, though; she had lied to him, and he didn't like it one bit.

"What are you hiding, Rachel?" he thought to himself.

….

Rachel, on the other hand, had curled herself up into a ball, and was now placing her head onto her knees in shame, completely disgusted with herself at the moment.

Was it a necessary evil, given her current predicament? Oh, most definitely. But it certainly didn't make her feel any less sleazy for lying to one of her oldest, and dearest friends.

"I'm so sorry, Patton…," she whispered.

End Chap.2