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.
Continue reading for Chapter 19, catch up with the Part One Recap, start at Chapter 1, or find where you left off.
Text copyright © 2025 Jan Herrington
⚠️ Content Warning: Discussion of murder/violence, medical care, abduction
Last time on TSA
Viktor escaped death, but Chaus did not. After Kira was nearly kidnapped, Viktor asks Rue for a safe house.
Finn slowed the car. A cabin sat at the end of the road, quaint, hidden between the trees. It was the kind of place that no one would find unless they were looking for it.
We got out and walked up to the Jeep.
“This,” Rue said, stretching as she stepped out, “is your new home.”
The cabin offers shelter, but not peace, as Viktor and his motley quartet battle exhaustion and each other. Kira treats Finn like a loaded weapon, and Rue guards her secrets. When morning comes, Viktor must face the past he thought he’d outrun.
Chapter 19
The forest smelled like damp wood and dirt. The cabin was old, but sturdy. The floors creaked under our weight, dust stirring with every step. It wasn’t much, but it was safe enough.
The four of us had situated ourselves as best we could in the small space that was half sitting area, half kitchen.
I plopped down in a leather recliner, trying not to jostle my leg. Finn leaned against the kitchen counter, looking as chill as always. Rue had claimed the armrest of an old couch, looking through a bag she had brought with her.
Kira stood near the side window, stealing glances at Finn like he would pull a knife out on them at any moment.
Nobody spoke. Even the dust seemed unwilling to settle.
Kira was the one who broke the silence first. “So,” their gaze snapped to Rue, “why are you helping us?”
Rue barely glanced up. “Because you all are in danger, obviously.”
Kira frowned. “That’s it?”
Rue nodded. Kira waited for more, but she didn’t elaborate. They didn’t let it go. “Why Viktor? You don’t seem like someone who goes out of their way for people.”
Rue sighed. “We both want them gone. What more is there to it?”
Kira narrowed their eyes. “You’re talking about the ‘gang’.”
Rue didn’t answer.
Kira scoffed, folding their arms. “So you just hate them for no reason?”
I tried to find the reason, Rue’s connection to the org. I found zero information. None. Even after texting Zoe with her name and physical description. It was suspicious, sure. She should have at least had a fake identity, but there was nothing.
Rue finally looked up, meeting Kira’s eyes. “You ever get treated like you aren’t your own person? Like you’re just a tool, a pawn for the people who have the power?”
Kira didn’t reply.
Rue leaned back, her expression unreadable. “The org needs to be dealt with. Viktor’s trying to do that. Leaving loose ends is not in my nature.”
For a moment, Kira looked like they were going to press harder. But then their eyes flicked to me, waiting to see if I’d push. My fried brain prevented me.
Eventually, Kira let out a sharp breath and backed off, but I could tell they weren’t satisfied.
The quiet stretched on for too long. I could hear the faint rustle of trees outside, the distant hoot of an owl.
〜〜〜
“Viktor!” Kira nudged my shoulder.
“I’m fine, I’m fine—just dozing.”
“Detective, you’re gonna need to get some rest after the night you’ve had—all of us do.” Finn was now standing behind my chair.
“I’m not sleeping with these two psychopaths around to kill me in the night—no way,” said Kira, kneeling beside me, staring daggers at him.
“You two can take the big room and bed, Rue and I will take the bunks. You can lock your door if you think we’ll stab you in the night,” Finn suggested.
“Fine, but I’m taking the knives.”
Kira went to the kitchen, yanked the drawer of knives out, and walked to the room. “You coming, Viktor?”
With a shrug, I limped to the room and fell face first on the bed. I turned my head to lay on my cheek and saw Kira pushing a dresser in front of the door. “That won’t stop bullets.”
If they had a reply, I don’t recall it.
✹✹✹
Sunlight pierced my eyes. I awoke, still lying on my stomach and cheek. My mouth tasted like the culmination of a hundred mistakes. I should have grabbed a bottle of Jägermeister for mouthwash.
I felt like my head was in a vise and my leg had slept on a bed of nails. I rolled my legs off the bed. A strawberry patch bloomed on my bandages—I would need to change them.
“I need coffee,” I said to Kira’s sleeping body. They had a terrifying and exhausting night too—better to let them sleep.
I found a drip coffee maker on the counter and a can of ground coffee in the pantry. I turned it on and sighed. It would be horrible, but it would be coffee.
“Unnnnggghhh... Viktor...” I looked around to see Chai, lying across the couch, rolling to sit up. He rubbed his face with his palms. He looked like he just woke from an all-night bender.
I walked over, touching the earring, speaking low to avoid anyone hearing me. “Hey... uh... buddy, how do you feel?”
“Like I died.”
“You kind of did.”
“Who’s the redhead? She looked kind of familiar.”
“Rue.”
“Roux, like the sauce in Étouffée? Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know what that is.”
“What about you man, how do you feel?”
“I feel like I almost died last night. Yet, it was all too easy—too neat. A fucking movie with a meat locker trope.” My shoulders sagged and I let out a breath. “It was as if someone wanted me to go there just to get you—the ghost you—and leave Klaus behind.”
“Dude! I died—again. That wasn’t easy.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m just busting your balls Vik. I know what you mean. Calm down. You survived.”
I didn’t want to calm down, but it was good to hear him joking again.
“Why are you talking to yourself?” Kira tugged on my sleeve. “And why are you holding your earring like that—are you talking with god?”
“Huh? Oh. No.” I looked back—Chai was gone.
“Come with me.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Ok, but first, let me pour us some coffee.”
Kira nodded and went outside to the firepit to start a fire. It was cold, but the afternoon sun was out and the fire would take the edge off.
I set two mugs on the table and slid into an Adirondack chair, fearing I may never be able to get out of it.
Kira was standing, shifting on their feet, arms crossed tight over their chest.
I gestured to the other chair. “You’re agitated. What’s wrong? I know you were almost kidnapped, but—”
They rolled their eyes and looked down, taking a breath.
“Father’s dead.”
For a second, I didn’t process it. Then, the words hit like a truck.
“What?” My voice was devoid of life.
Kira looked away. “It was a few days ago. You know what happened. He was sick and drank the rest of himself to death.”
I felt my fingers twitch. I forced them to stay still. “You didn’t tell me sooner?” My voice was tighter now, restrained.
“I didn’t think you really... cared.”
My jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter. He was still my father.”
Kira let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me. You left.”
I wanted to pace around, but I was stuck in this goddamned chair. “You know why I left.”
Kira went quiet. “I know... I’m sorry.”
I took a deep breath, then let it out through my nose. “Have you told mom?”
“She’s not doing well. The dementia’s worse. So is her schizophrenia.”
My stomach twisted. “I need a second.”
Kira didn’t say anything.
I thought about when I was a kid. The way mother would slip into a world no one else could see. Father had never understood. He called her crazy. And Kira had always taken his side.
I stared at the fire. I wasn’t angry at Kira. Not really. I forced myself to breathe.
I thought about the good times. My mother humming while she brushed her fingers through my hair. The times she would talk about things that no one else could understand, and I would nod along, pretending I could see what she saw.
I knew what she was going through, because I had gone through the same thing. We weren’t in the same stage of it, after all, I was only a child. But I knew. The guilt, the fear—the terror of being an outcast. Of everybody looking at you like you’re insane. Like you can’t be trusted.
But then, the times of clarity. The times of love. When our family was happy. Through the harsh winters, when we would bundle up all together. Even though Kira didn’t get it, maybe if I tried to explain, they could.
I breathed in... then out.
I looked at Kira. Their expression was guarded, unsure. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. Kira nodded back.
“Morning,” Finn said as he stepped outside, steaming mug in hand.
“It’s afternoon,” Kira corrected. “Where’s that psycho-assassin?”
“Right. Rue woke up at sunrise and stepped out, checking the perimeter or something. Me, I went right back to bed—that’s too damn early.”
Finn took a seat on one side of me, Kira, the other. The three of us silent, sipping our burnt coffee. The cool breeze ruffling our bedheads.
“You know,” Finn began, crossing his arms, “I get why you don’t trust us.” He glanced at Kira. “I wouldn’t either.”
Kira stared at him. “And why are you saying this?”
Finn exhaled, rubbing his face. “Because you should at least know why I hate these bastards.”
I turned my head slightly, watching him. Finn didn’t seem like the type to talk about himself. Not like this.
“Why do you hate them?” I asked.
“Because I saw what they did to Klaus.”
At that, I could feel Chai perk up, but he didn’t appear.
Finn stared at the fire, lost in thought. Then he shook his head. “Klaus was my older brother, well, half-brother. Different fathers, different last name.”
His last name was Federman, so I assumed he was German. He already told me they were brothers, but Klaus didn’t look like Finn—not really.
In my research, I had found minor criminal charges on Finn, but not much. They definitely didn’t cover everything he’s done.
Finn continued, interrupting my thoughts. “Klaus wasn’t always like that. He was a good kid, once. Happy, energetic, loving. The kind of kid who laughed too loud and got attached to things too easily.”
He looked up for a moment. “I remember when we were kids, he had this beat-up old stuffed dog. He loved that thing. Carried it everywhere. Even after the other kids made fun of him, he wouldn’t let it go.”
I couldn’t picture it—Klaus smiling, laughing, and carrying around a stuffed animal like an actual child. The man I knew had been ruthless, unrelenting.
“What happened?” Kira asked. There was a look of sympathy on their face then.
Finn’s expression darkened. His gaze moved back to the ground. “I don’t know exactly what broke him. I was too young. But one day, he just... changed. Stopped smiling. Stopped caring. Started looking at the world differently.”
“Kill or be killed,” Rue interjected. When did she get here?
“The only way to survive was to be stronger than everyone else,” she added.
Now I understood. Why Klaus had tried so hard to kill me. He saw me as a threat. A challenger in a game of survival he’d been playing since he was a kid.
Finn let out a bitter chuckle. “I kept thinking maybe—just maybe I could’ve stopped him. If I had just said something different. Done something different.”
His fingernails tapped against the arms of the chair. “But by the time I was the age he had been when it happened, it was too late.”
I watched him carefully. “You were born into the family business, right?”
He nodded.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
I froze. I hadn’t realized the org had been operating that long—at least that long. That meant it wasn’t some new organization—it had deep roots.
Finn suddenly stood up, brushing his hands off. “Gotta take a piss.”
“We didn’t need to know that,” Kira spoke all our thoughts.
Finn disappeared behind the side of the cabin. I watched him go.
I had noticed it on the drive over. The way his hands trembled when he thought no one was looking. The way his jaw clenched like he was trying to hold something back. The way his eyes kept darting, unfocused, like he wasn’t really here.
I slid to the seat’s edge, leaning on the arms for support, pressing up. No good.
Kira saw me struggling and stood to help. “Where are you going?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I followed the path that Finn left in the leaves.
✹✹✹
I found him leaning against the side of the cabin, a cigarette already between his fingers. His free hand clenched into a fist, shaking. He took a long drag, staring out at the trees.
“You know that will kill you, right?”
“Jesus,” he muttered, exhaling smoke, “you really are a shadow. In my line of work, I’ll probably catch a bullet before I catch cancer.”
I leaned against the wall next to him. “You’re shaking.”
Finn scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “Yeah? So what?”
He shook his head, laughing humorlessly, like he always did. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Yeah.”
Without looking at me, he held the cigarette pack out. “Want one?”
I shook my head. Finn flicked his lighter open, the flame momentarily lighting up his face in the shade of the trees. His eyes were frustrated. Fractured.
He smoked in silence for a while. The only sound was the faint crackle of the fire in the pit. Finally, he turned to me.
“Why did you kill him?”
Continue to Chapter 20.
