Octagon Project 1: Melody Halloway

~-16-~

Roy came back from the headquarters around the same time that Zack and Mel returned from the training room, Mel looking rather breathless and Zack appearing darker than he had a few minutes ago. Curiosity flooded Roy's mind in a wave that was almost too overwhelming. Dean was giving the more encouraging breakdown of the Octagon to Vanessa as Justin lay stretched out on the couch, flipping through channels on the TV out of sheer boredom. Mel plopped down onto one of the barstools and twirled back and forth, gripping the glass of water she held in between her slightly shaking hands. Zack was leaning on the counter with his elbows, looking up at Roy defeatedly.

"You look like you're about to fall over dead. " Roy commented, poking Zack's side. Zack's face twisted into a grimace as he tried to hold in a loud groan of pain and failed. "Dude, you alright?" Roy then asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. " Zack grunted, standing straighter and moving to sit on the bar stool near Mel who watched him with narrow, observing eyes and poked his side. Zack's face twisted and he clenched his teeth and fists as he attempted to hold back another groan. With a set face, Mel stood and pulled up his shirt to see his left rib with dark black and blue bruises.

"Zack!" She squeaked.

"Bro," Roy observed the bruising. "What the hell happened to you dude?"

"It's not as bad as it looks. From our last mission, I think. " Zack grumbled, gazing at Mel with a warning in his eyes. She picked it up and held her tongue.

"What did you do to get that bad of a bruising?" Roy asked as Zack took the edge of his shirt out of Mel's hand and pulled it back over his bruised ribs.

"Pissed off a hell of a lot of guys. " Zack answered before turning to go into his room with a grim expression on his face and his shoulders tense. Mel watched after him for a moment then shared a worried glance with Roy before Justin spoke up from his position on the couch.

"Ya'll need to check this out." He said, turning up the volume with the remote. They all turned from their places and gazed at the screen. The scene set before them was of one of the major shopping malls in Portland in near rubble. Flames roared everywhere and in the background, firefighters and paramedics were getting people out of the building the best they could.

"We've just received word from Kimberly Lewis in Ashton Oregon with news of another building attack just recently, on to you Kim." The woman in the camera said. Soon, the scene shifted and the camera was focused on a restaurant near the local college. Just like the mall, it was in flames and people were running around in a panic as the paramedics and firemen arrived.

"Thank you, Joan." The woman said. "No one understands where these sudden attacks are coming from or even why, but I'm here with one of the lucky witnesses from the blast. Can you tell us what happened?" She asked, pointing her microphone to a man who was wild-eyed and shaken up.

"I-I don't really know what was goin' on." He said, a heavy southern accent coating his words. Mel's jaw ticked. "I was just eatin' dinner and some young boy walked in with dark clothes. Thought it was odd clothin' to wear to a restaurant, but I didn't pay him no mind."

"How old did the boy look?" The camerawoman asked. The man shook his head a few times.

"He was wearin' a hat and kept his face low. But I'd guess 'round nineteen."

"Agent." Zack's voice cut through the silence that lingered in the living room like ice and everyone's heads snapped in his direction. He shrugged as their gazes portrayed nothing other than confusion. "B.L.A.K Ops Agent." Everyone's faces relaxed as if saying 'oh' and Zack rolled his eyes. "We're not that dumb guys, seriously." He said. Everyone turned back to the screen, but Mel made her way over to Zack as he leaned against the wall of the kitchen. Pulling back his eyelid, she observed his eye before giving him a punch to the shoulder. He grunted from the impact and held his arm under where he was punched. Mel gave him another glare before following everyone else's gaze onto the TV.