Published by arrangement with the Delta Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is a trademark and copyright owned by the Delta Green Partnership, who has licensed its use here. The contents of this document are © Augustine Stuart, excepting those elements that are components of the Delta Green intellectual property.

They took me out to a van parked in the middle of the road. I didn’t try to fight. Caspar forced the gun from my hands, and then gagged me with some sort of magic, so that I couldn’t speak and it was hard to breathe except through my nose. That meant I couldn’t scream, either— I couldn’t alert my family.

Not that they would have necessarily cared.

Clara had enough decency to buckle me into the back seat, instead of throwing me into the trunk, like I had been afraid they would do.

“So Hillary was right,” Caspar said as he started the van. “There really are deep ones still in Innsmouth.”

Clara shivered.

“Sure as hell there are.”

He looked over at her.

“Once we get back to Arkham, you’re telling me all about it,” he said softly. “And then you’re telling a therapist about it.”

Clara visibly hesitated.

“What therapist would believe me?”

Caspar didn’t have an answer.

The van started down the cobbled Innsmouth road. I pressed my face to the window in a desperate hope that someone might see me.

But there was no one to see me. The streets, as always, were completely abandoned. The only eyes that met mine were the hollow sockets of broken windows.

I swallowed hard. I’d never been further than Ipswich before in my life. And now, they were headed for Arkham.

I didn’t know much about Arkham, only that there was a prestigious college there: Miskatonic University. It was the only college in the United States that acknowledged, at least in some sense, the science of the occult— though they kept that rather hush-hush. I only knew about it because of Akeley and his stories of attending, and subsequently being expelled from, the university.

“What happened to Hillary?” Caspar asked quietly as we left the outskirts of Innsmouth, where the buildings were little more than piles of rotting boards.

Clara just looked away. Hillary, then, must have been the Delta Green agent whom Akeley had killed.

Night began to creep over the hills and fields of Massachusetts, casting the long shadows of trees across the road.

My anxiety turned to acute boredom and anticipation. But I still couldn’t speak, thanks to Caspar’s gag.

Eventually, I leaned forwards and tapped him on the shoulder.

He startled violently, the car jerking onto the rumble strips for a moment.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

I pointed to my mouth insistently.

Caspar hesitated, looking over at Clara.

“Should I ungag her?”

“She’s still gagged?” Clara asked. “I thought she was just quiet. She’s barely said anything to me, and I’ve been living with her for two weeks.”

Caspar bit his lip, glancing back at me again— and then waved his hand in my direction. I felt a sudden release of pressure in the back of my throat.

I leaned over and gagged.

“No throwing up!” Caspar said sharply.

“I’m not,” I said hoarsely.

“What did you want to say?” he asked.

“I just— wanted to ask what you were going to do to me.”

Caspar glanced at Clara.

“I don’t actually know,” he said. “Clara? Care to tell me?”

Clara shook her head.

“I can’t tell you.”

“This has something to do with Hillary’s work, then?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied tersely.

“Well, then. I won’t bother to ask.” He settled back into driving.

The van was silent for a few moments.

“So, is he Delta Green, too?” I asked finally.

Clara went pale. In the mirror, I saw Caspar’s eyes widen. He slowed the car and pulled us off to the side of the road. Flicking the hazards on, he turned to Clara, face red.

“You’re Delta Green?” he demanded.

Clara gave me a look full of venom.

“I—” she started.

“You didn’t know?” I asked, shocked.

He turned to me.

“No! Of course not! I don’t expect my sister to be— to be part of—”

“Ruthless, government sponsored terrorism?” I asked dryly.

“We’re not terrorists,” Clara spat.

“Racists, then,” I said. “Who think that everything that’s inhuman is evil.”

“Your people killed my mentor and raped me! And you expect me to not believe that you’re evil‽” she demanded.

Caspar put up his hands between us.

“Clara— this is true? You’re part of Delta Green? After everything our parents went through— you actually joined?”

Clara looked down in shame, clearly unable to meet Caspar’s eyes.

“I can’t believe you—” he started.

In the mirror, flashing sirens of red and blue appeared.

“Fuck,” Caspar swore. “We’re not doing anything illegal—”

“You know, except for kidnapping me,” I said dryly.

The police car pulled up next to us. Caspar turned back to me, desperation in his eyes.

“Don’t say anything, or I’ll gag you again,” he hissed.

“You think I want to get taken in by the police? I don’t even exist to the government!” I said. It was true— I didn’t even have a birth certificate.

The police car pulled over behind us, and a tall man in a long, black jacket got out. I frowned. That didn’t seem to be standard uniform, from what I’d seen online. But then again, what did I know of the outside world?

Maybe all policemen wore long, black trench coats.

Caspar rolled down the window.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?”