The Spectral Agent is my first full-length novel and an experiment. We are independent creators, publishing chapter by chapter as a podcast and text. It’s designed to be heard. We’d love to receive your feedback so we can tell stories better.
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Text copyright © 2025 Jan Herrington
⚠️ Content Warning: Swift, mild violence.
Last time on TSA
Joseph and Mei came to clean up the loose end that is Viktor. He barely escaped with unexpected help from a red blur on a rooftop.
My hands were shaking as I locked my room door behind me. I collapsed onto the tiny bed, my eyes already closing. Images of figures in my apartment flashed into my mind’s eye before fading away.
I barely had time to process them before I passed out.
Viktor is finally alone and hidden from the gang—or so he thinks. Someone has come to trade words—rare currency in a city that trades in blood—their language measured, each phrase calculated to cut without spilling. Viktor’s instincts tell him to let them in. His instincts have been wrong before.
Chapter 16
A current swept me up and slammed water into my face. Salt infected my eyes. It stung—it stung so badly. I saw the others struggle to crawl up the currents.
Some made it to the top, reaching their heads up for any amount of air that they could get. But the rapid waves covered their noses and choked them even more.
All of the others made attempts to survive. All I did was watch.
I thought about swimming up to the top, but I didn’t. These rich bastards can have all they want. They can kill with no consequences. I’ll let them have their happy ending.
I tried to close my eyes to accept what was happening to me, but I couldn’t keep them closed for long—couldn’t control myself. My body thrashed as it struggled for control against the water. I felt it creep into every crevice of my body.
Suddenly, the pitch-black water was lit up by a white expanse. Fuzzy static filled my ears. I felt the pressure lift off my shoulders.
✹✹✹
I woke up in a cold sweat. A nightmare, of course. I wasn’t in deep water, I was lying in bed in my motel room. Why did it feel so real?
I’ve had vivid dreams ever since I was a kid, but never like this. How could I be so stupid? I almost got myself carved open on my own floor, and for what?
The light sound of footsteps outside the door interrupted my thoughts. My confusion and exhaustion vanished in an instant. I reached under my pillow for my gun.
The hallway was silent. Then another step. Someone was there. My grip tightened around the pistol as I stood.
The thin motel carpet barely muffled my movements as I crept toward the door. This stupid cheap motel didn’t have a peephole. Whoever was out there, they weren’t knocking. That meant they weren’t supposed to be here.
I could surprise them if I moved quickly. They wouldn’t expect me to be ready. Slowly, I turned the lock. I wrapped my free hand around the door handle and made my move, yanking the door open.
The figure outside barely had time to react before I struck, pistol clenched in my fist glancing off their jaw as they stumbled back. Moving way too fast, they recovered and dodged my next swing.
I raised my gun, finger hovering over the trigger guard. The motel’s dim light poorly illuminated the space. The person outside my door was a woman. She stood in a defensive stance, arms raised but not attacking.
She had long, bright-red hair, the kind that looked dyed instead of natural. Her blue eyes resembled Finn’s. The expression she wore was unreadable, but there was no fear in her eyes.
When she shifted, her hair caught the light and reminded me of what I saw on the rooftops. “You! You’re my guardian angel,” I said, lowering my gun.
“I think you’re confused. Did Joseph hit you in the head?”
I retrained my gun on her. “Who the hell are you?!”
She exhaled through her nose. “Could have let me knock first.”
“You followed me here,” I accused.
“That’s what happens when you make a mess and expect no one to notice,” she said, unyielding. She didn’t move, didn’t reach for a gun or knife. Didn’t flinch, even as I took a half-step closer.
“Go on, then”—she said, tilting her head slightly—“shoot.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t. Something wasn’t right.
She would have killed me by now if she really wanted to. She had every opportunity on the street. “What do you want?”
“To keep you alive,” she said simply.
I didn’t lower my gun. “Bullshit.”
“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have heard me coming.”
She had a point. Her voice was calm—calculated. She wasn’t afraid, but she also wasn’t provoking. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing—could have easily killed me in my sleep without me even knowing.
Slowly, I eased the gun down, though I didn’t put it away. “Fine. Talk.”
She sighed. “You’re on borrowed time, Levitsky. The org wants you gone, and they’re not going to stop hunting you.”
I already knew that, thanks—I thought but didn’t dare speak. I noticed she used my real name. “How do you know this?”
“Because I was a part of it,” she replied. “But I don’t work for them anymore.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
She shrugged. “Don’t care if you do or don’t. I came here to tell you how to stay alive. If you don’t want my help, then I have other business to attend to.”
I studied her, searching for any sign of deception. I wasn’t a naive person, but something about the way she spoke made me want to believe her. Still, I couldn’t afford to be careless.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She hesitated, as if she had forgotten her own name. “It’s Rue.”
✹✹✹
I didn’t have a better idea, so I led Rue into my room. The least I could do was investigate her on my own later, but for now, we needed to talk.
The door clicked shut behind us, sealing out some, but not enough, of the sounds of the city. I dropped onto the edge of the mattress, exhaustion threatening to take me over.
Rue lingered by the door, hands in her jacket pockets. “You look terrible,” she said, leaning against the wall.
I huffed out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been that kind of month.”
“You ever gonna stop running?” she asked, almost out of nowhere.
I frowned. “What?”
She let the silence stretch just long enough before speaking. “You know, Levitsky, you’ve been playing defense this whole time. Just waiting for the next attack. But at some point, you’re gonna have to decide how this ends.”
I gave her a dry look. “And you know what to do?”
She shrugged. “I think you know what needs to be done.”
I scoffed. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
She just stared at me, giving no response. It’s always something with these gang people. I’d have to throw something out there to see what she knows.
“Where’s Anna?” I tossed out the name Finn said was his boss.
“Anna? Pssh, she’s nothing.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Levitsky, I don’t think you know her or who she is. I know you’ve never talked to her. Because if you did, you would have met with Ben—she’s always with him now—and Ben would have known who you were the millisecond he made eye contact.”
That reminded me of the day I saw Ben at the library with the person in the shadows who must have been Anna. Did he really see me then? Did he already know me?
“Why do you know me?” I asked.
“I saw you on the night...” she trailed off, then started over. “I followed you to the dockyard, where that idiot thug died—Tea—Latte—whatever. I watched you from the rooftops. You picked up something from the dirt and then—I don’t know—I could tell you saw something by the way you stumbled.”
“Chai.”
“No, I’m good.”
“His name—the thug—is Chai.”
“Is?”
“His name was Chai. You know what I mean. But that doesn’t explain why you know me.”
“I kept following you. To that old gangster ex-con. To get your ear pierced for some reason right after you got shot. To that diner a dozen times—you get coffee too much. To the warehouse. To Lenny’s job—you have him freaked out.”
She’s been following me a lot. Why? “Wait, did you see me get shot and ignore it?”
“You were fine.”
“It didn’t feel fine,” I muttered.
“Then I saw you go to the front—that medical supply store. You learned too much, too fast, about the organization—what you thought was a gang. I didn’t expect you to leave there alive. But then—”
Oh no, she couldn’t have seen—
“—you drowned Klaus. He would have—should have—killed you. But somehow you came out on top. But then you gave him mouth-to-mouth and brought him back to life.”
She wouldn’t make eye contact and was detached—very clinical—as she explained things. I felt like I was being dissected.
“And then Klaus vouched for you. It didn’t add up. I thought back on the events before. You talked to yourself a lot—I mean a lot—you stood out. I thought you were crazy. I’m sure everyone thought—”
“Alright alright, I get it,” I said before she could besmirch my dignity further. Damn, and I thought I had hid talking to Chai in my head smoothly.
“Sorry, I don’t say that to be rude. I say it because after that night in the ditch with Klaus, you stopped talking to yourself—immediately. But you did talk with Klaus, like you were best friends. I know Klaus, he’s no one’s best friend.”
She had been watching my every move, how did I not see her? “Okay, so you know everything about me, and you worked for this org. Why didn’t you tell them?”
“I expected you to be dead already. I probably would have killed you myself if Klaus didn’t, but you killed him first. And then, you somehow put someone else in his place. Look Levitsky, I know you’re not what you seem. I think you have something—some ability—that can stop Ben—that can stop the old man. I want him stopped.”
She leaned forward slightly, her expression carefully unreadable. “The old man—Anselm.”
“The Contagion,” my mouth said before I could think.
“Some call him that. ‘Contagion’. He’s been running this whole show from the shadows.”
My jaw tightened. Finn. He was the one who called him that. They both know that there’s more to this. Why do all these people keep finding me?
“Why do you want him stopped?”
“I have my reasons.”
I studied her. Why was she telling me all this? After I’ve already been hunted and almost gotten killed? She’s been watching me, I know that, but what’s her endgame here?
“Fine. What’s next?”
“He’s been in hiding for a long time now. Anna, she’s the way in.”
“That’s convenient for you.”
Rue’s lips curved into something close to a smile, something I haven’t seen on her yet. “It’s convenient for both of us.”
I exhaled slowly. “You really think this ends with him dead?”
She tilted her head, watching me carefully. “Don’t you?”
I didn’t answer right away. I’ve only had snippets of this old man, this Contagion, this Anselm, this Ben. Other than them being generally bad people, why did I care so much?
This somehow had something to do with Olivia’s murder, but what? Why is it my responsibility to take them down? But as I sat on the edge of the bed, I couldn’t help but feel that she was speaking the thoughts I had kept hidden away. Even from myself.
I replied, “Yes. I do.”
Rue gave a small nod, satisfied. “Then you know what to do.”
I could feel an invisible force tug at my eyelids, something I couldn’t ignore any longer. I knew I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should be. Can I really trust her? Can I really trust anyone?
“You should sleep,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
I hesitated for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. “Fine.”
I stretched out on the bed, but I didn’t take my eyes off her right away. She didn’t move, just stood waiting. Like she was trained to be this patient.
Eventually, my body betrayed me and I drifted off into a fragmented sleep.
✹✹✹
A sudden ring cut through the air. My eyes snapped open, pulse surging as I reached for my gun instinctively. A second later, I realized it was just my phone vibrating on the nightstand.
I grabbed it, checking who had called. Only a few people had this number. I answered immediately, then waited for the caller to say something first. I had to make sure I had the right person.
“Detective,” Finn’s voice came through, tense. He would have only called if it was important, so what was wrong? “They have your boy. Whoever—dammit! They have Klaus!”
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