Sorry for the late update. Midterms have had me swamped as well as everyday life. Here is the penultimate chapter of 'Numbuh: 322', thanks for the patience! Enjoy!
Back on the Island, Numbuh 322 sat in the tree line, watching the beasts rummage through the crash site. The adults and children had scattered and gone their separate ways, chased off by those horrid creatures. Their fur shimmered and changed, becoming one with the environment around them. They wailed violently and began to desecrate the plane's corpse.
They appeared to have ripped through the remains, destroying everything inside. The seats were shredded. The inflatable rafts were bitten and rendered useless. They smashed the windows fiercely and rummaged through the overhead compartments, stripping them of the luggage they cherished.
Numbuh 322 recalled the feeling in her chest. It wasn't the feeling she'd had after her encounter with one of the beasts in the cave, it was one entirely new. It welled up in her chest and she felt like she could scream. She felt mad, madder than she'd ever felt in her nine years of existence on this gem of a planet.
She hated them. She hated them for what they were doing. She hated them for what they've done.
So then Kayla dropped down from the branch she'd perched on and claimed the sharpest piece of glass on the floor and approached the nearest fowl beast.
"How you feeling sweetheart?" The roguish voice belonging to her father, snapped Kayla out of her memories.
She looked up from where she sat on the living room couch to see her father dressed in a suit. Valiant Valera was a Prison Warden, he wore a suit every day. Kayla didn't need to glance at the time on the VCR, she could tell how late it was through the window, seeing how dark it was outside.
"Feeling good, dad." Kayla answered halfheartedly. "Got a hot date?" She commented on his state of dress.
Valiant raised a brow at his daughter's use of language, mentally leaving a reminder to set up child locks on the television. Ever since the plane crash, and her safe return, Valiant had become too lenient with her activities.
"I have a meeting with the Governor." Valiant answered simply. "It's mostly about funding."
"Sounds boring." Kayla shrugged.
"I'll be back around midnight." Valiant leaned over and kiss his daughter's head.
"Okay Cinderella." Kayla waved bye to her father. "Have fun."
With her father gone, Kayla was left alone once more. She reached out for the remote, hoping the sounds of cartoon reruns would drown out her thoughts. She took the remote and switched on the modestly sized television, only for Kayla to regret her decision immediately.
"Rainbow Monkeys, Rainbow Monkeys Oh So Very Round And Super Chunky!" The television sang.
Kayla lost it right then, grabbing at her scalp and clawing at it. She thrashed around on the couch and screamed violently. Those terrible beasts on the Island were taunting her. She could see them on the screen laughing and joyously fooling the world, but she knew the truth, she knew they were monsters.
Tears streamed down her now rosy cheeks. Kayla reached back down for the remote, having flung it aside. She took the remote and reeled it back before throwing it at the television screen. The television sparked and died with a gruesome mangling of the sound. The Rainbow Monkey theme song began to burn distortedly, leaving Kayla uneasy.
It was the doorbell that snapped her out of her alarming thoughts. Kayla picked herself off the sofa, calmly approaching the front door as she slowly descended from her adrenaline fueled high.
Kayla knew her father well enough to know he was studious and well prepared. She knew it wasn't him at the door. Quietly, Kayla retrieved a 2x4 weapon comprised or rubber bands plywood and a battery pack from a remote controlled car. She removed the weapon from its hiding spot where it was firmly taped under the table.
She approached the door, weapon held behind her back. She straightened her curly black hair with her free hand and then opened the door.
It was a teenager, one she'd never seen around her neighborhood before. The teen was somewhere in her mid-teens, dressed professionally in a violet dress shirt and pencil skirt. She was a little adult, not quite old enough to run the world but desperately vying for that role.
It wasn't the manicured nails or fake eyelashes that kicked on Kayla's mental alarms, it was the teen's defeated almost shaking composure.
"Sorry. No solicitors." Kayla muttered as she attempted to close door, not wanting anything to do with this girl.
"No, wait!" The teen reached out to hold the door open. "You're the girl on the plane. The one that crashed."
Kayla drew her weapon from behind her back and aimed it at the teen's forehead. "I don't sign autographs if that's what you're here about." She glared.
The teen glanced at the weapon aimed at her head and then to the kid holding said gun. It was then she realized her mistake, essentially barging in on the girl and bringing up a presumably sore subject.
"I apologize." She said. "My name is Natasha Vinson. I have information that you will want to hear."
"Well get chatting desconocida." Kayla gestured to Natasha with the gun threateningly.
"I feel that this is a discussion that would be best handled inside." Natasha pleaded.
Kayla weighed her options, looking Natasha down head to toe, seeing no visible weapons. But still, there was always the possibility of the teen standing in front of her having a blade hidden in her hair, or a gun strapped to her thigh.
Kayla couldn't take the chance. "No. You have anything to say you say it. No way am I letting you in my house."
The teen bit her bottom lip. She glanced at the weapon in Kayla's hand once more and then back to Kayla. "It's about the plane crash."
Natasha's eyes flew wide open in fear as a distinctly sharp pencil shot passed her face, landing somewhere in the front yard behind her.
"Mention the plane crash again and the next one goes in the eye." Kayla threatened.
"That's what I'm here to tell you!" Natasha held her hands up defensively as tears began to well in her eyes. "The crash wasn't an accident, it was planned."
Kayla didn't pull the trigger like she promised to, instead she simply glared at Natasha but kept the gun trained on the teen. "Go on."
Natasha nodded and continued. "The plane crash was planned. A teenager name Reese Martin planted a bomb to kill you."
Kayla's glare intensified as Natasha continued. "You were targeted because of a mission you had prior to the crash. You'd seen things and Reese's superiors saw it fit to get rid of you." Kayla hadn't noticed Natasha's now tearful face. Her eyes were on autopilot as she receded into her mind.
She thought back to the island, how she'd fended off the beasts and made it to the coast with materials to make a raft. She recalled the crash itself, how the plane magically caught on fire, how the passengers screamed all around her. And then Kayla thought of the mission she was given, to shadow Cavallero.
"The blonde." Kayla gritted her teeth.
"Reese's boss." Natasha said.
"Your boss too I bet." Kayla scowled.
"Yes." Natasha's head hung low, ashamed. "You need to stop him. Reese, he's at it again. He's got another bomb and he plans to destroy the Moon Base and everyone on it."
"How's he plan to get on the Moon Base?" Kayla asked.
"As of earlier this afternoon, a pair of operatives had an accident. It was their night for guard duty on the Moon Base. They're going to replace them with Battle Ready Armor."
"B.R.A.?" Kayla raised a brow, slightly disarmed by the acronym.
"It was a way to get back at male teen operatives for pantsing the last teen leader. It makes them feel uncomfortable." Natasha shrugged.
"So what is this? Is this you apologizing?" Kayla asked lowly.
"I'm no killer." Natasha
"And you telling me who is somehow redeems you, huh?" Kayla asked rhetorically. "If you want redemption you'll give me the name of your boss, the blonde. Make my job easier."
Natasha looked at Kayla with a confused look on her face. The exact wording and tone didn't reflect one of urgency. It was plainly obvious to her Kayla had no intention of involving the KND as a whole, but rather she intended to deal with Reese on her own.
"Are you going to give me a name or what?" Kayla asked in a reserved fashion.
Natasha debated what to do, whether to give into the child's demands or not. Kayla could see the moral dilemma Natasha was mentally juggling in her head. No doubt that teen had a code of ethics, one that allowed her to divulge the identity of the teen who stranded her on that damned island but also a code that rationalized her loyalty to whatever branch of the teen organization she belonged to.
In short, Kayla knew their conversation had ended.
"Run." Kayla stated coldly. Natasha hadn't the time to wrap her head around Kayla's earlier question when she found herself faced with the child, no longer aiming a gun at her. It was all cold withheld bitter anger in Kayla and it scared Natasha. "I won't say it again. Run. Get as far away from me. When I'm done with Reese I'll be coming for you and the people you align yourself with. So run."
The sight of Natasha running as fast as she could away from Kayla would have brought a smile to any operative's face. Kayla, however, glared at thin air. She couldn't put how she felt into words.
For a moment there was a brief moment of relief, that it wasn't some cruel twist of fate that placed her on the island, but rather the ill intent of an enemy of kid kind. Soon after came the cold rage, that the boy he placed her in that situation, now intended to harm her colleagues.
Kayla returned inside, locking the door behind her. She walked to her room and changed into her mission outfit consisting of a grey sleeveless hoodie, black cargo pants and boots and finally the standard KND Combat Satchel. Kayla grabbed her 2x4 sniper rifle and loaded it with razor sharp pencil ammunition.
Kayla exited her house, walking to the S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. hidden in her backyard. It had since fallen into disrepair during her time on the island. The S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. was hardly airworthy, the weapons system was fried. But the propulsion system was intact, as was cockpit. It may be the ship's last flight, but she'd reach her destination.
The S.P.R.A.Y.S.H.I.P. launched into the air, smoke fumes and all. And for the first time in a very long time, amongst the quiet, Kayla didn't find herself back on that island. Instead, Kayla found herself looking forward to the confrontation ahead of her. One could say she looked excited.
While I am not a fluent Spanish speaker, I intend to incorporate more Spanish into Kayla's dialogue, as she is a Mexican American character. Next update will hopefully be soon! 'Til then, later days!