The Other Side (The Other Side Trilogy Book 1)

by Anna-Marie McIntyre

  Suddenly I felt exhausted, as if I hadn’t slept in days. But I somehow managed to force myself out of bed anyway. I made my way to the showers, where the warm water woke me up at least a little. I guess half-sleep doesn’t have the same effect as regular sleep does.

  When I got back to my space, breakfast had already been served. The buttery rolls and cold milk wasn’t exactly an elaborate meal but it was as good as a feast to me. It was as if I’d never tasted anything so delicious in my life.

  After I ate, I was sitting on the bed, having some shallow conversation with a girl from a nearby space about the excellent food, when a voice spoke over the microphone.

  “Attention.” I recognized the platform lady's voice. “We are now landing. An attendant will be there presently, to escort you from the aircraft, to what will be your home for the time being. You’ll be given a tour of the part of the building that you’ll occupy. When you leave the helicopter, please take your things with you, we’ll not be returning. Thank you.”

  So this was it; the beginning of our new lives. I had an excited, nervous feeling inside me. I didn’t know what could possibly be in store for us. But I was ready—ready for whatever it might be.

  By the time an attendant arrived, I was standing with Priscila, Kendall and Vanissa; our bags packed and ready to go. (I’d transferred my belongings from my old bag to the new one I’d been given.) The attendant led us through the halls, until we reached the large entrance. A group from a different section had already gathered there and it wasn’t long before more showed up.

  Then they opened the hatch and lowered the ramp. As those in front of me exited the helicopter I stood on tiptoe to try and see where we were, but they were too tall and I couldn’t see a thing. And even though it only took a few minutes, it seemed like forever. How slow could they possibly go? Finally, it was my turn. I pulled on my coat and stepped out into the fresh spring air.

  As I made my way down the ramp, I observed my surroundings. I’d been hoping to get an idea of what it was like around here. Possibly big buildings and a busy street like I’d seen in a book. But instead I saw we’d landed on the top of a building with a wall running along its edges, preventing any view of the surrounding area. All I could see was the gray sky above.

  Once we were all standing on the roof, the platform lady stepped into the open hatchway where everyone could see her. “Welcome,” she said, "to your new home. My name is Eva Challan, head of program that brought you here. The tour will begin in a moment. After the tour you’ll be free to do what you like today.

  "Tomorrow at breakfast I’ll explain more about why you’re here and what you’ll need to do before leaving. Now, you may follow the tour guide into the building.”

  The tour guide was a short lady with curly brown hair and glasses. She looked like she was born with a fake smile plastered on her face.

  She led us down a flight of stairs and into the building. I found myself standing in a long white-tiled hall.

  At the place where the hallway turned a corner, we came to an elevator. I wasn’t paying much attention though, because something was bugging me. Somehow, this place seemed familiar. I hadn’t ever been here, but maybe I’d seen it in a picture.

  The guide turned and faced us. “Hi, my name is Kassie,” she said. “And I’m going to be giving you the tour today.”

  No kidding.

  I was tired of all the waiting. We needed to spend less time talking and more time doing things. Besides, it was bound to take forever for us to all get downstairs by that elevator. It looked as if it could fit five or six people at the most.

  Kassie said something about how the upper floors were for employees only and was beginning to discuss how many people could ride the elevator at once, but I wasn’t listening. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the familiarity of the place. I racked my brain. Where had I seen it before? Then I understood why it looked so familiar. I’d seen a place nearly exactly like this, described in a book. The all-white walls and floor, the hallways going every-which-way and the overly-clean scent in the air—this place fit the exact description of a hospital. But somehow, that didn’t make sense. Why would they need a whole hospital if, until us, only a few kids came here at a time. And we were all healthy so…

  Just then, I noticed Kassie was directing the first group of kids into the elevator. And since I was in the front, the first group included me. I put my thoughts of the hospital aside. It was just a hospital anyway. Maybe this part of the building didn’t have anything to do with the program that brought us here.

  I stepped into the elevator, along with Priscila, Vanissa and a few other kids I didn’t know, and actually enjoyed the ride, although it made my stomach drop.

  When we exited the elevator we found ourselves in yet another hallway. The walls were grayish and bland, only this time it didn’t have that hospital feel about it.

  “Well,” said Kassie, (still smiling). “I hope you all enjoyed the ride. It’ll be a while before everyone gets down here.”

  She had a way of making everything she said, sound like she was talking to you in particular. “So,” Kassie continued. “Make yourself comfortable and, before you know it, we’ll be ready to start the tour.”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes at Vanissa. At this rate we wouldn’t have a free day. We’d be spending it waiting for a couple hundred kids, to be delivered, group by group, down an elevator.

  When Kassie was about to enter the elevator, I noticed something. Before the doors would open she had to type in a passcode on a small panel to the side the elevator. Was it just me, or did it seem like there was a little too much security? With the walls surrounding the roof, the absence of windows on the helicopters and now this…I no longer felt as if we were being rescued from the island, and the disease. I felt like we were being taken captive and imprisoned; isolated from the rest of the world.

  “Excuse me,” I said, stepping forward. “But, why do you need a passcode on the elevator?”

  Kassie turned to me, the smile on her face now looking slightly nervous. “Oh,” she said. “It’s just… the upper floors are for… employees only.”

  If that was all then, to me, a passcode seemed like overkill. But I nodded, as if I understood, and said in a nonchalant tone:

  “Oh, okay. I was just wondering if all the elevators had passcodes, or something. Our books never said anything about it.”

  Kassie seemed relieved. The nervousness vanished from her face, and she went back to her, falsely-cheerful, self.

  Once she’d disappeared into the elevator, I turned to Vanissa and raised an eyebrow.

  She simply shrugged and said:

  “It looks like Kassie’s not only a tour guide but also has practice in acting.”

  I thought about that. If Kassie had been acting—lying, then what was to hide on the upper floors? Turns out, I had plenty of time to think about it.

  Two hours later, I was sitting on the floor; my back against the wall, idly twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. My mind was wandering through the building; exploring all kinds of rooms, climbing an endless stairwell and searching for answers to all my questions. In the back of my mind, I heard Kassie’s voice:

  “Well, that’s the last group.”

  I was so removed from the goings on around me; it took my brain a moment to process what I’d just heard. But when I did, it jerked me out of my daydreams. I shot to my feet and slung my bag over my shoulder. It was about time. After two hours in a crowded and completely boring hallway, I was beginning to think I’d go crazy if I was there another minute.

  Kassie led us through a maze of hallways, showing us how to easily remember our way from one place to another. We came to a large area with lots of tables and chairs and she said that was where we’d be eating normally, but today, meals would be delivered to our rooms. She took us from place to place, telling us so much about each that I doubted I’d remember any of it.

  Finally Kassie stopped and said. “Well, t
hat’s all you need to know for now. Now, when I call your name, step forward and I’ll give you your room number.”

  Fortunately, the process was much shorter than I’d imagined. Since it was done in alphabetical order, according to last names, my room, (157) was right next to Priscila and Kendall. But Vanissa, (whose last name was Allen) and Owen and Livia, (whose last name was Valdez) both had rooms far from mine. Kassie told us the rooms were on the second floor and to get there we had to use a staircase in the cafeteria.

  The cafeteria ceiling was higher than the rest of the first floor and the second floor didn’t go over it. It was like the first and second floors were connected, since there were no stairs or elevators on the second floor. So, if you were on the second floor, you could step out onto a walkway, that ran along the edge of the cafeteria, and look down at the first floor. That gave the two floors a feeling of being one big area rather than two separate places.

  I showed Priscila and Kendal their rooms and told them they could visit me whenever they wanted to. Then I slid open the door to my room and stepped inside.

  6

  My room was more than a little disappointing. Completely colorless, it was full of grayish colors that ranged from white to black. There were zero decorations; not even a window. It consisted of a bed, a small bedside stand with two drawers and a tiny bathroom and shower.

  After I’d emptied my few possessions into the drawers—including a few scraps of cloth, I had from when I used to help with sewing—I was surprised to find my knife at the bottom of the bag. Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier, when I’d changed bags? I had an odd recollection that it might be useful, if and when I escaped. Most likely though, any form of weaponry was against the rules here. So I stuffed it between a few of my things. I’d have to find a better hiding place for it later.

  After I’d explored the rest of my room, and gotten all my things organized, I looked at the clock on my wall—a quarter past eleven. According to the schedule on my wall, I still had forty-five minutes until lunch. I decided to take advantage of the free time, and do something I wanted to. Of course what I wanted to do was explore the building and see if Kassie had missed anything. But I figured I might as well wait until after lunch, when I’d have more time for that.

  I picked up a pen and notebook, which were sitting on the stand and sat on my bed. What would I write? Nothing came to mind at first, but then, I thought back on everything that had happened to me and all the things that could end up happening to me. And I knew exactly what I’d write. I wanted to keep track of all of it, even my thoughts. They were too much to hold inside my head.

  I would keep a journal. I sat on my beds and wrote down everything I could remember—every little detail. Then I added my own opinions to it. For instance: Section five was huge and windowless. What harm could windows do? Something is definitely wrong here. I just need to figure it out. I wrote down my plan to go along with everything for now. And then, if something happened I’d get out at my first chance.

  Before I knew it, there was only ten minutes until lunch. I realized that if anyone read this it would be a disaster... I had to find a hiding place. I searched everywhere, but all the places just seemed so exposed. I knew our rooms would probably be checked for any suspicious items. For all I knew there could be cameras watching me right now.

  It wasn’t until I noticed my slightly out-of-place mattress that I had an idea—such a good idea that I decided I could hide my knife in the same place. I casually walked over to my drawer and rummaged through it. Then, I slipped my knife into my jacket. Walking over to the bed, I raised the mattress slightly, pretending to put it into place. Really, I pulled my knife out of my jacket. Quickly, but discreetly, I pressed the point against bottom of the mattress and cut it in a quick swipe. I’d made a slit just big enough for my book and knife to fit, but small enough that no one would notice if they weren’t looking for it. I swiftly inserted the book and knife, shoving the mattress back into place. To cover up a little more, in case of cameras, I straightened out the pillows and blankets.

  Just as I finished, an attendant showed up with a tray of food, so I decided to go to Priscila’s room for lunch. I saw little point in eating alone, if I could help it.

  As I was leaving the room, I noticed a small black object above the door, confirming my fears about cameras. They were most likely everywhere.

  When I slid open the door to Priscila’s room, I was surprised to find Kendall and Vanissa had already gathered there. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, they all looked as if they could fall asleep. I guess I couldn’t blame them. I felt exhausted as well.

  Lunch was more of the buttery rolls from breakfast, salty crackers and pasta topped with some kind of spicy sauce. I absolutely loved every last bite of it. But the meal was very filling and after, I couldn’t hold another bite.

  I asked Vanissa where Owen and Livia were but she just said she didn’t know and that they hadn’t answered when she'd knocked on their doors. I thought that was strange. However, maybe they’d simply decided to walk around; explore the building…as much of it as they could that is.

  I considered how to tell Vanissa, Priscila and Kendall about the cameras without them seeing me do it. It seemed impossible. But then…what if I just wrote it down! Of course! It was so simple an answer I don’t know why I didn’t see it immediately.

  I tore a sheet of paper from a notebook and began to write; concealing the work with my free arm. I made it look like I was sketching. Really, I wrote:

  Cameras everywhere—careful what you say and do.

  “You want to see my drawing?” I asked, casually.

  All three of them walked over and examined it. Vanissa was the first to speak.

  “Wow, Britta. You’re very observant.”

  “Oh, just a couple of details I picked up on that really helped.”

  I walked over to the sink, as if to wash my hands. I actually completely soaked the paper, ripping up what was left. Then I wadded it up into a ball and tossed it into the trash-can; strangely finding a little bit of satisfaction that, this time, we were the ones deceiving them.

  Ten minutes later, Vanissa and I were roaming the halls when something suddenly occurred to me.

  “Vanissa,” I said. “Do you think there’s something going on with Owen and Livia—I mean, that we don’t know about?”

  “Well,” she said. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on around here, or what we’re missing to figure it out. But I think we need to figure it out soon—before it’s too late.”

  Too late? I don’t think she was still discussing Owen and Livia when she’d said that. But, there were some things we just couldn’t say out loud—at least not with cameras watching us. A chill ran down my spine, at the thought of my every move, being closely monitored.

  “Besides,” she said. “Everything has just changed so quickly. I think it’s been a shock for everyone.”

  It had been a shock for everyone. Everything had changed…including us. Not much, but with every passing day we all became a little more cautious; distant. I was afraid of what we’d become if we stayed here long. Would we end up nervous wrecks, afraid of everything?

  We finally decided there wasn’t anything new to discover around here. The tour had covered it all. So the real secret was upstairs. The problem was, for the time being, we had no way of getting there.

  The rest of the day I spent walking aimlessly around the building and just sort of hanging around Priscila’s room, (which, seemed to be quite the popular gathering spot.)

  You’d think it would be fun having a whole two floors of a large building to yourself for a day. But instead, the whole day there was a sense of waiting. The thing was I didn’t know exactly what we were waiting for.

  That night, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I was asking myself how I felt about these people now, and how I’d felt about them back on the island. Why didn’t I hate them? I should’ve hated them, right? They’d left me on an island, w
ithout any access to the outside world. They’d deprived me of a normal life for over fifteen years. But, in all that time I’d never truly hated them. Maybe it was because I’d known it wouldn’t help to feel that way. Maybe, it was because I hadn’t had any idea of what circumstances they were in. For all I’d known they could have been helping us in some unexplained way. Or, maybe it had been neither. Maybe it was just against my nature to hate anyone. Now, when I knew they certainly weren’t helping us I still didn’t hate them—I couldn’t. It really bothered me. I don’t know why. It was like I wanted to but something was holding me back. Maybe it was because my fear of them was too strong. I’d never been scared of them, but of how much control they had over me my siblings and my friends. I guess I just wouldn’t be the same person if I hated someone.

  Control was what my whole life had been about. .It was like they were telling us that, no matter our opinion, they already had our life planned out. We didn’t have a choice…about anything. We’d been forced to live on the island, we were forced to come here and I didn’t even know what we’d be forced to do tomorrow.

  Maybe I’d of felt differently about them if I didn’t have Priscila and Kendall to worry about. If I knew they couldn’t hurt me. But, that was the problem. They could hurt not only me but Priscila, Kendall, Vanissa…all of them.

  I didn’t want to go to sleep. I didn’t want to have any nightmares, only to awaken to the confusing nightmare of my life. But, as it always is, since I didn’t want to go to sleep, almost immediately I was pulled into dreamland—from my nightmare, to the one of my imagination.

  I’m standing in a long hallway of a building, I’ve never seen before. An eerie glow, is illuminating the dark hall. Suddenly I hear a shriek—a loud, piercing scream of terror. Then another one joins in. Only, this time it’s a cry of pain; agonizing torture. (I’m not sure how I could tell the difference then. I’d never heard many screams. But you always know when you hear one. A scream of terror is longer; louder more steady. A tortured scream is weaker and comes in shorter bursts, as if the person is gasping for air.) I stand there; petrified. I can’t move because, well, you can guess whose screams they are. They keep repeating as more join in—screams not only of torture and terror, but of surprise and despair. Cries for help and cries for revenge. Screams from my friends and from people I barely know. Priscila, Kendall, Vanissa, Owen, Livia, even Every. They come from all directions; above, beneath, on either side. I run down the hallway, slip, fall to the ground, and get back up; lost in a maze of hallways. And I know I’ll never, ever reach them. The floor shakes violently. The screams increase. I try to keep running but I fall and bang my head on the hard tiles. I struggle to get back up, but a chunk of ceiling comes crashing down, pinning my legs to the ground. I yank and shove at it, but it’s pointless. Finally I just give up; lye there as the ceiling crumbles around me.