The government told us that it was because they cared about their citizens and wanted to take care of them, but everyone knew the real reason was because they didn’t have enough soldiers in the military forces. At the time, the Corps were more powerful than anyone could have imagined, but with enough opposition from the outer planets, the Corps began to dwindle. Sure, their forces are technically still winning, but I’ve heard rumors that their ammo supply is diminishing.
I recall the dream I had a few nights ago. My dad was fighting Chris, Kelton was fighting Daniel, and Kyle was fighting me. Kyle told me that Kelton was going to do the one thing his dad never could. So far, the dream has been right. Kelton and Chris are related, and I’m sure my father would fight either of them if provoked. My father. I stop suddenly and Kyle runs into me.
“What?” Concern registers on his face.
“How come we haven’t seen Father yet?” My voice escapes in an alarming tone, and Kyle’s face goes white.
“What do you -”
“Don’t worry about that,” a voice says from behind us. “He’s in good hands.”
Before I can turn around and discover the informer, two hands fold around my neck, and my vision goes black around the edges. Daniel’s hand is ripped from mine. Kyle’s shriek comes out raspy and choked. I swing my leg back, but nothing happens.
“Wait,” I call out with my last breath. “Let my father go.”
“Why should I? What have you done for me?”
“I don’t know who you ar-” My voice cuts out and my vision goes almost completely black.
“Let her go,” the voice says. The hands around my neck fall and I drop to the ground. The voice steps out of the shadows and into the light of the street lamp overhead.
I gasp.
“Thought I was dead?” Kelton asks. “So did I. But you see, the mission wasn’t complete. And my father’s orders hadn’t been carried out thoroughly, so I mean, can’t die yet.”
His face is scarred and burned, probably from the crash, and he reeks of smoke. I still see the same face that I once fell in love with, but the memories behind it were destroyed along with any feelings I have left for him. He tried killing my friends and family, something that I will never be able to look past.
I try to make eye contact with him, to show him the pain that sits behind my eyes, but he doesn’t look directly my way. He seems to look everywhere but at me, which I figure is because he had the closest tie to me and it’s me who he’s hurt the most. Me who stood by him even when everyone else thought it was a trap. Me who saw him as I wanted to see him, not as he was. Me who is going to feel the pain most of all.
“If you want your father back,” he begins, “I can take you to him. But once you go inside, you will never come back out. And only one of you may go. Make your choice.”
One of us continues. Two of us go home, the place we’ve longed for since we got here. The only place I want to be right now….
“I’ll go,” I say. Kyle and Daniel look at me.
“Zandrea, you can’t do this,” Daniel pleads. “I’ve seen what the Corps do to people firsthand. You can’t go.” The worried, pained expression on Daniel’s face tells me everything I need to know: I have to go.
It has to be me. I got us into this mess, and I’m going to get us out. If it hadn’t been for me, we could have all left ages ago. I never would have been shot, Daniel wouldn’t have been captured, and Kyle and my father could be home with my mother, fixing everything that went wrong while he was gone.
“I’ll go,” I say again, turning to face Kelton. “But under one condition.”
“What’s that?” he snarls.
“You let everyone else go. My father, Daniel, and Kyle. Let them all go, and I will come back with you. I have to see them get on a ship and leave. That is my condition.”
“Interesting,” he says. “Your father said the same thing before I…” He trails off.
“Before you what?” My tone of voice is the same that I used when I first met him.
“Are you coming with me or not?”
“Let them go first.”
“You,” he says, pointing at me, “don’t get to tell me what to do. I make the rules around here.”
“Let them go, and I will do whatever you want me to do.”
“Zandrea,” Kyle says. I turn my head to face him. “You can’t do this. Let someone else go. I’ll go.”
“No Kyle,” I say. “Go home and find Mother and fix whatever mess is waiting at home.”
“I don’t know if he’ll be able to do that, but go ahead and try,” Kelton says.
“Give them a ship to get home in and I will come with you,” I say, my tone unwavering.
“What makes you think I’m going to listen to you?” he says. “What leverage do you have over me? Why would I grant your wishes when I have everything you want?”
“I know that somewhere deep down inside you, you still care,” I say soothingly. “That you care about me. Prove me wrong.”
He leans in close to my face and for the first time makes direct eye contact. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t listen or care about civilians. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” I gulp. “But I know you better than this. This isn’t you. You do care. Quit trying to be your father. You’re better than he is.”
“I’m nothing like my father,” he says as he rolls his eyes but motions for us to follow him. I know I’ve broken through to him, but I don’t know how long this will last. He’s stronger than me, both physically and mentally. He knows how to play people to their weaknesses and highlight them just enough that it becomes very clear that he will always come out on top. No matter what. And that’s how I broke him.
Kelton leads us through a labyrinth of streets that lead back to the Corps’ headquarters. The roads have an ominous feel which makes me uneasy. The three guards follow closely behind us in case one of us tries to run. I won’t; I can’t afford to. I’ve abandoned my father before, a mistake I won’t make again. If I run now, my father will never be let out of the nightmare he’s been living in for the last ten years. I hope I can see him before I’m locked up for good.
Kelton walks ahead of us, leading the way back to the headquarters. My stomach twists in knots. I can only imagine what they have in store for me in exchange for my father’s life. I quicken my pace and fall in step with Kelton.
“We need to talk,” I say.
He looks at me but doesn’t say anything.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll just talk to you.”
He smirks. “You have always made me smile.”
I shake my head, trying to focus on the subject that’s been bothering me. “What did you do to my father?”
His expression turns serious, more like it was earlier when I first saw him. “I didn’t do anything. My father on the other hand, well, that’s a different story.”
“Please,” I beg. “Tell me what happened to him.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
We walk in silence for a while before I finally ask the question that’s been eating away at me. “Why?”
The question catches him off guard. “Why what?”
“Why any of this?”
“Because,” he says. “This world is not perfect. We can achieve perfection. There are so many flawed systems in this universe, and we’re trying to make it better.”
“By hurting innocent lives?”
“They aren’t innocent,” he retorts. “Most of the people in this galaxy are the farthest thing from innocent. They want what is best for themselves. The Corps are trying to eliminate that. Make all systems and all people the same.”
“But it’s the diversity in the systems, in the people, that makes this universe so amazing,” I say. “If everyone was like you, this world would be more corrupt than it already is.”
“Are you saying I’m corrupt?”
“I’m saying that you and your father are a lot alike, and he’s cor
rupt.”
“I am nothing like my father.”
“Yes, you are. You do whatever he says, go wherever he goes. You’re like a clone of him.”
His face gets really close to mine as he spits, “I am not a clone of him. I am nothing like him.”
“Would you kill any or all of us if given the chance?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Then I rest my case.”
He glares at me but doesn’t say anything. He knows I’m right, whether he wants to accept it or not. I plaster a look of triumph on my face and hope he notices.
The buildings become more sporadic the closer we get to the Corps’ headquarters. My stomach turns in knots again and my head starts to pound. The building illuminates the night, and I have to shield my eyes from the sudden source of light. I stop walking so Daniel can catch up to me.
“How are you doing? I mean, this is a lot to take in,” he says.
“I’ll be alright,” I say. “How about you and Kyle?”
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine.”
“I know,” I whisper.
We walk in silence for a little bit longer before he speaks again. “None of this would have happened if I had just told you everything from the beginning.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” I say. “There are plenty of things I could have done to prevent any of this.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “But if I had told you something, anything, given you some kind of hint to who he really was, maybe we could have left sooner. You wouldn’t have been shot, Kyle and your father wouldn’t have been brainwashed, and none of us would have gone in the Torturing Room, the list is endless. And all of it is my fault.”
“Or who knows? Maybe I would’ve resented you even more for thinking Kelton had a larger plan up his sleeve. Don’t blame yourself.” I don’t know what comes over me, maybe it’s the thought that I will never be able to see him again or I feel bad for everything, but I grab his head and pull his face, his lips toward mine. It’s the kiss I should have given him a long time ago, but I never felt like it mattered. Until now, when my life is on the line in exchange for my father’s.
I pull away first. “This is not your fault, understand?”
“Yes,” he answers.
He leans in to kiss me again, but before he can, Kyle yells, “Gross!”
I start laughing, but it’s my nervous laugh.
“Keep it down back there,” Kelton yells. Then he mumbles something to himself.
We reach the front doors of the building a minute later. The doors open up to the same gold and silver lobby we first encountered a week ago. The same lady still stands there. She looks exactly the same as she did at our first meeting, except she wears a black pencil skirt with a gold and silver checkered top. Her long, flowing, straight black hair with gold and silver highlights is tucked back in a low bun. She seems older now than she did a week ago, creases lining her face.
“Do you have an ID?” she asks, her monotone voice ever present and still as annoying as ever.
Kelton shows her his ID and she lets him through. “Have a wonderful day,” he says to her. She nods and goes back to typing on her computer.
“She didn’t ask us for an ID when we went through,” I say.
“Yeah,” Daniel replies. “Maybe it’s only for authorized personnel.”
We take two elevators up to the fourth floor. Daniel, Kyle, and I ride in one with two guards. Kelton takes the other one with his personal guard. Kelton gets there before us, with my father at his feet. He has a gun trained next to his brain, ready to shoot in a moment’s notice. I run to my father, but Kelton stops me.
“You may not touch him,” he says. “I will give him to Daniel and Kyle in exchange for you. Say your last goodbyes. I will give you exactly one minute starting now.”
I hug Kyle first and whisper in his ear, “I love you. I hope you know that. Take care of our father and mother.”
Tears stream down his cheeks as he says, “You know, these last few weeks knowing I have a sister who’s alive has been the best few weeks of my life. Promise me you will try to escape.”
“Of course,” I say. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll see you soon.” He knows the lie as soon as it has escaped my lips, but I hope he finds some comfort in what I said.
I turn to Daniel. Before I can say anything, though, his warm hands find my face and he kisses me. I know Kelton is looking at me, and I hope somewhere, deep inside him, he is hurting that same way I was hurt. I know he is.
My father lies limp next to us on the floor. Cuts and bruises have formed from where I’m sure he was stricken. I pull his cold body close to mine and hold him for the rest of the time I have remaining. I whisper in his ear that I love him and hope he can hear me.
Kelton pulls my father into a standing position, hands him to one of the guards, and tells him to escort Daniel, Kyle, and my father to the landing pad where a ship will be waiting for them. A tear slips over my bottom eyelid, and I make no attempt to fight it off. I turn around and punch Kelton square in his jaw. He stumbles back a little, but before I can take my next swing, one of his guards pushes me to the ground.
“Follow me,” he says as he gingerly rubs his jaw. “My father will be notified of this little outburst of yours.”
“Tell him whatever you want,” I say. “There is nothing you can do that will break me any more than you already have.”
“We’ll see about that,” he replies quietly.
Chris’s office is not far from the elevators, but multiple guards surround it, each one carrying a gun positioned to shoot. I gulp.
“Do you have an ID?” one of the guards asks.
“Of course,” Kelton replies. “Like I would walk around without one.”
The guard curls his upper lip into a half smile and lets us pass. He never takes his eyes off me, and I don’t take my eyes off him. There is something about this particular guard that makes me feel uneasy. Maybe it’s the look in his eye or that his smile grows when I pass him, but he’s not like the rest of them. He’s friendlier, which scares me.
What scares me even more, though, is Chris’s office room. It looks like a laboratory, with machines lining every wall. Some of them have lasers, others a sharp wheel that rotates quickly, enough to see sparks. The walls are painted white and the floor is a shiny black, making the room seem even larger than it is. In the middle of the room, though, lies an operating table lined in a white bed cloth. The knots return to my stomach once again.
“Hello there,” a man, who I recognize as Chris, says. “Welcome to my office.”
I begin to huddle back, but a guard pushes me forward, closer to Chris than I was before. “What,” I sputter, “do you plan to do with me?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he taunts.
“Yes, I would.”
“I’ll tell you sometime, but for now, just sit on the table over there. I’ll be right back.”
I slowly walk over to the table, making every step twice as long as it needs to be. I boost myself up onto the white bed cloth and lay back. Immediately, two women in white robes hover over me, adjusting some lights overhead. One of them injects a needle into my neck, and I slowly drift off to a dreamless sleep.
I wake up later. How much later, I don’t know. The room is empty, except for two guards who stand near the door. I try to stand up, but the restraints on my wrists and ankles keep me in place.
“Comfortable?” The voice startles me.
“Not really,” I answer.
“Good,” the voice says. “Now, did you dream anything?”
“What?”
Chris comes into view. “I said, did you dream anything?”
“No,” I answer.
“Good, so it’s working.”
“What’s working?”
“Our experiment,” he says. “We needed a test subject, and I think you are the perfect candidate.”
“What’s the experiment?�
�
“I really shouldn’t tell you,” he says, “but I will anyway. Since you’re going to die, I’m guessing you want to know how, right?”
I don’t answer.
“So basically, we inject you with a serum that stimulates your brain, causing rapid eye movement. Rapid eye movement is when your brain is highly active, and it resembles being awake. In other words, rapid eye movement is what causes dreams.” He looks at me to make sure I’m following along with what he’s saying. “Then we watch and monitor your dreams.”
“So you can see everything that I dream?”
“Exactly,” he responds. “The key is we get to manipulate the dreams into nightmares, and eventually you won’t be able to take any more of it. You go completely insane, become useless, and then we kill you. Now, you are our first test subject, so I don’t know how this will go. Who knows? Maybe you will die quickly.” He walks off into some other part of the lab on a different floor.
The women in white robes come back, masks over their mouths, and adjust the lighting once again. A third woman comes from behind the table, cleans a spot on the left side of my neck, and plunges a thick needle into the disinfected area. I fight to stay awake, but the serum pulls me away from consciousness.
My mother stands in front of me. Her hair is pulled back, defining the shape of her face. She looks younger, and the creases in her forehead have subsided. Her hand wraps around my arm, in a gentle, motherly touch. She kisses my forehead and I’m brought back to my childhood. And for what seems like an eternity, we just stand there gazing at each other, neither one of us talking for fear we might ruin the moment. Somehow in my conscious brain, I realize this will probably be the last time I see her, the last time I get to feel her motherly touch, protecting me from the outside world.
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