"Stop moving kid!" yelled Van Rook at Zak who was sitting in a makeup chair. Van Rook had Hollywood horror make-up. He was giving Zak burns and scratches. It was easy money to make off of Argost. Van Rook also plastered him up in a cast. Once it was dry he pulled out a marker and wrote, 'Rookie mistake." Zak smiled. Pulling this was sure to get them extra money. Doyle had given Van Rook the hand before he went to be with his sister. So, no actual work needed. The hand was in Van Rook's pocket. Zak really wanted to keep it. He was drawn to it like Argost was drawn to power and world domination.
The makeup was cold and tickled his body and face. It was like betrayal after you had accepted it. His eyes were being painted a nasty swollen blackish blue color. Some was blacker. Some even looked a little green. He had to suppress his urge to cringe. It was very cold.
When they were done, he looked at his grotesque face. Beaten, bloody and swollen. No one would question this. When Argost showed up he looked absolutely disgusted.
"I can't believe you took a child to work. What's the matter? Want him dead?" he taunted. Zak gave him a look.
"He snuck on the jet with me when I went to retrieve it. He had quite a few accidents involving a fire sword."
Argost laughed. Zak forced himself to frown. It was pretty funny to think about. Van Rook pulled the hand from his bag. It was wrapped tightly in bandages. But Zak could recognize the familiar shape and size. He half hoped Argost would just decide he didn't want it. But that would be impossible. He took the hand and put it in his pocket.
"I've sent the money to your account," he said leaving. Zak was thankful he was gone before Abbey walked into the room and ruined the fact that they were at the base all night.
"Hey Abs," said Zak. He had taken to call her that because he learned that she had a six-pack despite her small figure. She gave him a look.
"What the hell?" she asked.
"Like it? It's an awesome makeup performance given by Mr. Leonidas Van Rook," giving a small bow.
"As performed by Zak…," he began.
"…Van Rook," he finished with a smile. Van Rook looked surprised.
"And when did this happen?" he asked.
"What was he before?" asked Abbey.
"Zak Blackwell."
"I will not share my name with a traitor," he explained crossing his arms. Van Rook placed his warm callused hand on his shoulder. Abbey cocked her eyebrow and turned around walking to the door.
"Whatever," she said leaving. Van Rook looked at Zak's face. Most of the pain of betrayal had left him. Disappointment still lingered on his face, and so did a flash of revenge. But he was for the most part the small kid he always wanted for a son. Small, quirky and funny. Mischievous at times but overall he was a good kid. Zak walked out and toward his room to wash the paint off. Van Rook went to the window. Outside he saw a sight he wasn't ready for.
Doyle and the Secret Scientists, right outside his home. He quickly went over to his security system and put it on full. No one was getting in. And no way in hell was anyone going to take Zak.
Meanwhile Zak had just entered his room. He was in the bathroom washing off the paint. He had a small cast blade in order to remove his broken arm cast. But when the lights flashed red, he knew something was horribly wrong. His face wasn't filled with fear, but with excitement. He removed his cast and ran to the bedroom door to find it wouldn't open. He kicked it as hard as he could but ended up landing on his butt. He sat for a moment. Normally, he could breakdown a door with little difficulty if he put his mind to it. But this door was hard. Like titanium.
He jumped back up and rammed the door. It did not budge. He scowled at it and looked to his window. He noticed that the glass was Plexiglas. It wouldn't break easily. And his window wasn't one that could open. He looked outside to see Mr. and Mrs. Saturday. Though he wanted to get out of his room and fight, he had to settle for staying out of sight. He thought for a minute. Why was Doyle's family even here? What could be so important that he'd come back? Was it a document? A relic? Zak scratched the back of his head. This was like one of those questions on tests that had no answer.
He heard the pounding of feet come down his hall. Though he didn't want to admit it, this was more than he could handle, and he was glad he couldn't breakdown the door. He could feel his heart speed up with every step the group took in the hall. He slid into his closet. It wasn't very big, but big enough for him to hide in under an over turned basket under a blanket. It was just, too much for an eleven year old.
"Check here!" he heard someone yell. He heard a person attempt to ram the door down. But it stayed strong.
"…not going…down…. Move on?" he heard from another voice.
"No," said an all too familiar voice. Zak squeezed his legs close to him. He clenched his eyes as they continued trying to ram the door down. After a few more tries, he heard the hinges break, sending the door flying into his room. His heart began to pick up if that was even possible.
"What's in here?" asked a warm masculine voice.
"Not what," said the familiar voice turning the handle to the closet, "Who."
Zak covered his ears in the closet. All lies! He didn't want to hear them from him. It was the same as a naga telling him that they all loved humanity and wanted to live together in peace. His body heat radiated from him being so close to himself. He saw the light slink over his blanket that kept him so well hidden. But in a matter of seconds it was gone. He looked to see that it was over Doyle's shoulder. Zak gasped as he tried to retreat to the furthest corner, under the basket of course.
But Doyle pulled the basket and Zak who was under it out of the closet. He then shut its door. Zak looked to see the Saturday family was the ones who knocked down his door. His eyes were wide with fear. Doyle got down on one knee and removed the basket. Before Zak could move, he gave him a warm hug. Zak couldn't move. He was scared, he was surprised and confused. His brain couldn't take it. He fainted in his arms. Doyle put the blanket that covered the basket over Zak. He then picked him up. Doyle carried him in his two arms, similar to bridal style, but somewhat like carrying a corpse.
From the way he was being carried, all you could see was his dark unconscious face.
"Doc to Secret Scientists, we've found what we came for. Let's get out of here," said Doc into a small radio.
Oh no! Van Rook isn't too happy with me right now… Please review!