Inside, Pt. 1

by Kyra Anderson

  The scientist felt along my right shoulder blade, pressing a little harder at one spot, lower on my back than I imagined the tracer would be.

  “This is where the chip will go.” He reached across me to Mark and grabbed his wrist, pulling so that his hand rested on my left shoulder and his arm crossed my collarbones, giving me something to lean into. “Hold her steady.”

  Mark’s other hand rested just above the scientist’s hands, and even though I was dizzy sitting upright, I felt that I had regained my bearings a little.

  “Okay, you’re going to feel a pinch…” the scientist repeated. I lifted both hands to Mark’s arm and held onto the fabric of his jacket tightly, my head resting against his bicep. I felt the pinch and gripped tighter onto Mark’s arm, cringing. Then, the needle was gone and the scientist moved away. I felt Mark try to move, but I held onto him, refusing to let my support move, knowing I would collapse face first to the cement. I felt his hesitation and then his hands resumed their position, holding me steady.

  I remained with my eyes closed and my head against his bicep, waiting for the ordeal to be over.

  The scientist asked me if I could feel anything, and when I shook my head, he slipped my bra strap off my shoulder before telling Mark to hold me steady once again, applying pressure to the numbed part of my back.

  I cringed and held onto Mark tightly.

  I was distracted when I felt Mark’s thumb moving over my left shoulder, trying to soothe me. I was so startled by the act of kindness that I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. He did not have his glasses on, so I could see him watching me, his eyes full of gentle compassion.

  I closed my eyes again and leaned against Mark’s arm.

  My final tracer was in, and the bandage was placed over the wound, though it was still several moments before I could release Mark’s arm to put my shirt on.

  “Okay,” the scientist said when I was redressed. “Clark, you can come back now. As for the wounds they should heal in a few days. Try not to scratch them. You can take the bandage off tomorrow morning. Don’t shower tonight, and just be careful of the bandage around your hand for the rest of the day. If you can wrap it in just a regular bandage to keep the wound covered, it should heal faster.”

  “…thank you…” I choked.

  “Go rest,” he said. “Take the water also.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “If you have any problems with them, like if they start to hurt or fester, let me know. My name is Randy.”

  “Thank you…” I said, a little stronger this time.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I tried to walk steadily out of the lab, but ended up having to be supported by Clark as we walked the incredibly long distance back to the conference room. I continued to apologize, though I did not understand why I felt guilty.

  Once back in the conference room, I curled up in one of the chairs and felt the exhaustion take hold of me. I wanted to talk to Clark, but the stress of the situation pulled me into unconsciousness, and I was asleep in no time. I was woken by the gentle hand of Mark on my left shoulder. When he pointed to his watch, I realized it was time to go home.

  Mark had to wake up Clark as well before we left the Commission.

  I was still half-asleep as we retrieved our phones and drove to my house. I felt a dull pain on all three areas where the tracers had been placed, but it was not unbearable. What was unbearable was explaining the bandaged hand to Mykail and my mother and father over dinner. They were worried, but while my father was worried, my mother continued to insist that it was a smart idea for the Commission, stating that Dana knew what he was doing. Mykail just stared at me, silent and sympathetic.

  When the time was right and I knew my parents had gone to bed, I crept to Mykail’s door, opening it skillfully to avoid the loud noise of the bolt. Mykail immediately pulled me into a hug.

  “I’m so sorry…”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I assured, hugging him back. “I’m alright.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, glancing at my hand, pulling it close and studying it. “Your mother said you have a fear of needles…”

  “Yeah…” I said, embarrassed, particularly thinking about the way I behaved around the three who had been in the same room when I got the tracers. “It’s okay. I’m alright.”

  “This is crazy, Lily…” he breathed, releasing my hand. “We need to find another way. This is too much. He’ll always be able to find you…”

  “No, it’s too late, now,” I said. “It’s done. We’ll just keep going with the plan.”

  He was torn, but I knew this was the best method. This was the way things had to be. There was no way to back out.

  He sighed, looking at my hand again.

  “Can I see the one on your back?”

  I felt my heart race and the muscles clench in my abdomen. To show Mykail, I would have to take off my shirt again. I shivered at the thought, but it was not for the same reason I had in the lab. I was excited, nervous, and admittedly, a little embarrassed, but I still nodded and turned around, reaching down with shaking hands to pull my shirt over my head.

  I still held onto the fabric of my pajama top and felt his eyes on the bandage on my back. I shivered as I waited for him to say something.

  Suddenly his hand was on my shoulder blade, gentle, as he pressed his lips to the top of my shoulder. My eyes fluttered shut involuntarily. I swayed. His other hand wrapped around my belly to support me.

  He placed a few more kisses on my shoulder before I turned my head toward his, wanting more. He hesitated. I felt his breath on my lips, so I closed the space between us, turning and wrapping my arms around his neck as I kissed him full force, pressing my chest to his.

  His arms circled my waist and lifted me, walking me to his bed and using his wings to support us both as he lowered us.

  Within the protective cocoon of his wings, there was nothing other than him and me. I felt his hands drift over my sides and arms as we kissed.

  With his weight on his wings, both his hands were free to touch me. It was almost too much for my inexperience to feel one hand on my waist, another on my neck, and his lips and tongue against mine.

  Like before, Mykail’s hips circled down to mine, causing a jolt to rocket through me and Mykail to swallow the noise I made in a deep kiss. I groaned again and my hips moved against his. I had never felt such intensity, and I was starting to crave the sexual contact. I didn’t care if it was the result of hormones. I wanted him.

  He broke away from my lips and moved to my neck, kissing and nipping in a way that made me bite my lip to keep me from making more noise. I didn’t know what to do, so I dug my nails into his back and felt his mouth on me, moving from my neck to my collarbone and then down my sternum, passing between my breasts as one hand came to rest over the cloth of my bra. I arched my back, pushing into his hand, biting my lip so hard it almost bled.

  It was the most intimate we had been. He did not remove my bra and he did not make any further moves toward sex, which was good because even though my body was craving it, I knew we were not ready, particularly with the circumstances of our relationship.

  Eventually, my jaw sore from kissing, Mykail rolled to the side, his wings still surrounding us.

  “I’m sorry…” he whispered, as breathless as I was. “I did not mean to move that fast.” He looked at me seriously, his fingertips playing over my cheek as I tried to gain my bearings and calm the fire in my body. “If I do anything that you don’t want me to, I want you to say something and I’ll stop…I promise…”

  “If that ever happens, I’ll let you know,” I smiled.

  “Alright,” he nodded, kissing me gently once on the lips before kissing my cheeks, nose, and even my ears, causing me to giggle. He backed away, a smile on his face as well.

  “Hey, Mykail,” I whispered. “The experiments have a way to speak through gestures, right? The sign language?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does this mean?” I pinched my
earlobe, mimicking Mark’s earlier actions.

  “What?” he said.

  I repeated the action and he laughed, grabbing my wrist.

  “No, that action asks the question ‘what?’” he explained.

  “Oh…” I murmured, confused. Thinking back on the conversation Mark and I had struggled through, it didn’t make sense for him to ask such a question when he was the one explaining things to me.

  “You seem confused,” Mykail chuckled.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Which ear was it?”

  I thought about it, realizing Mark had touched his left ear. I pointed to my left ear.

  “That’s different, then. That means ‘I’m sorry.’”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The biggest dilemma I faced Tuesday morning was not the quiz in biology class or the fact that I had not read the assigned chapters of An Angel Without Wings—it was that Mykail had left a hicky on my right collar bone and I was failing miserably at trying to cover it with makeup.

  I resulted to finding a shirt to cover it, pulling a turtleneck in the bottom of my dresser drawer. I hated turtlenecks, but it was the only option. At least the colder weather gave me an excuse to wear it.

  The turtleneck dilemma seemed pointless compared to the problem at lunch.

  I was sitting with Becca, Taylor, and Jill, trying not to think of what had happened the previous afternoon. I saw Felicity and seven other Commish Kids, including Dean and Ryan, walking our direction. Apprehension grabbed at me. I hoped they would just pass me, but I knew from their purposeful walk that they were on a mission to talk to me.

  Becca had fallen silent when she saw my staring and her silence caught the others’ attention.

  “Lily,” Felicity said sharply as she approached, “we need to talk.”

  “About what?” I pressed.

  “Miranda,” Dean growled. I felt my heart speed up. I saw Becca turn to me while the other two looked on, confused.

  I stood, glancing apologetically at my friends.

  “Sorry, I’ll be back.”

  I followed the group of Commish Kids nervously. Every part of me was wary of the impending discussion. A part of my brain reminded me that I could use the situation as a means to see if any Commish Kids were opposed to Dana after the whole ordeal with Miranda and Julie.

  I was led to the back of the school, where we gathered around the outside of the door and everyone rounded angrily on me. I retreated a step, looking among their angry faces.

  “Who the hell called the Commission on Miranda?” Samantha, a girl I had only met once, asked around her clenched teeth.

  “What?” I blinked. “I don’t know.”

  “Is there any truth behind the accusations?” Matt pressed.

  “Of course not, you moron!” Dean snapped, shoving the boy in the shoulder.

  “I’m just asking…”

  “Why are you asking me?” I asked, keeping my voice strong.

  “You’re Mr. Christenson’s new favorite, right?” Felicity growled. “You’re even going there after school like Clark, now.”

  “…how do you know about that?” I asked suspiciously. They groaned and rolled their eyes, which did nothing more than aggravate me.

  “Everyone knows. Everyone can see how fascinated he is by you and your family,” Ryan snorted.

  “So, you’re going to get Miranda and Julie out,” Dean snarled, stepping forward. I stepped back again.

  “What?” I hissed. “What makes you think I can get her out?” My heart raced as terror ran through my whole body, thinking of the possibility that the others knew of our premature plans to infiltrate the Commission, and if I didn’t agree to get Miranda and Julie out, the Commish Kids would turn me over to Dana.

  “You’re Dana’s new little slut, right?” Dean growled. “So, you find a way to convince him. Beg, cry, fucking suck his cock, it doesn’t matter. Just find a way.”

  “Fuck you!” I snapped. “You really think that I can convince Dana to do anything? If you want her out, you talk to him!”

  “You’re saying that you don’t care about Miranda or Julie?”

  “I’m saying that you should do something about it rather than use me as a shield!”

  “Dana is more willing to listen to you than any of us,” Kelly said. “You have a better chance.”

  “No, I can’t get her out. Dana will be set on keeping her. You already tried to switch yourself for Julie and he wouldn’t take the deal. What makes you think I have any say?”

  “Because you’re the new favorite,” Ryan said simply, as if a child would understand the concept. “We would ask Clark, but he’s been Dana’s favorite for years now, and since Dana is now interested in you, seems like he’s not as into Clark anymore. You can get his attention.”

  “Look, Dana won’t let her go,” I said strongly. I knew that Dana would not budge. He didn’t care who was upset, he was determined to keep Miranda and Julie.

  “What will happen to them?” Kayla whispered, her voice weak. Everyone fell silent.

  “Think about the experiments you all have at home,” I breathed, my eyes lowering to the ground. I had to act a little. I had to get them indignant enough to think about rebelling against the Commission seriously. “Don’t you think that their friends and family felt the same way we do now? They probably wanted to get their son or daughter or girlfriend or anyone they cared about out of the Commission.” I looked up at them, sighing heavily. “Is there anything you can think of that we can do?”

  Make them approach it. Don’t implicate yourself…

  “Besides begging Dana or switching places…no,” Felicity shook her head, her eyes downcast. “It’s not like we can rebel…”

  “Why the hell not?!” Dean snapped. “I am fucking pissed! Dana Christenson may be the leader of the Commission, but he’s not a god. He can be taken down. He’s gotten fucking paranoid!”

  “No kidding,” Ryan agreed with a strong nod. “Reinstating Sweeps? Believing false accusations against teens? It’s the Post-Revolution Purge all over again. There’s no reason for it!”

  “You’re saying he’s becoming paranoid, but now you’re talking about overthrowing him, which means his paranoia is justified. He’ll be ready for rebellions,” Matt snapped, exasperated. “He’s Dana fucking Christenson of the Commission of the People! He’s got the entire military of America at his disposal and night-raid Sweeps teams that will crush any revolution brewing. You’ll be taken in like Miranda and Julie if you try anything.”

  “Then we can work from the inside!” Dean growled. He approached Matt, angrily grabbing his blazer collar with both hands and pulling him close. “You know Miranda never dealt drugs, and you know for a fact that six-year-old Julie didn’t carry drugs in her fucking stuffed animals, so Dana brought in both of them under false accusation and made an example of them in order to scare us and try to get us into line. Those are stupid fear tactics that the government used before the revolution.”

  “No, those are the fear tactics the Commission of the People use today,” Matt retaliated. “Christ, Dana is Leader Simon’s attack dog, and you want to stick your hand in his cage and piss him off?”

  “If I have to, I will put him down like a dog,” Dean growled. “The Commission of the People might need a new leader anyway. Dana’s still acting like we’re in the revolution. The population is clean. We don’t need the Commission anymore.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?” Matt challenged. “You’re forgetting the entire American military he has at his disposal.”

  “My uncle is the Chair of Warfare. If word doesn’t actually get to the military, no one will act on it.”

  I watched, listening carefully. The aspect of the military had been keeping me up at night. I had no idea how we were going to stand up against a man who could call the nation’s armed forces to his aid. Hearing Dean so upset and that his uncle was the Chair of Warfare gave me a glimmer of hope that a solution had presen
ted itself. We didn’t have to defeat the military. We just had to keep the officers uninformed until we had the people’s attention and support.

  “This is treasonous talk,” Matt hissed. “I want Miranda and Julie out also, but going up against Dana? The Commission? It’s like tackling the government all over again, and all it will do is lead to bloodshed, and probably an even worse system, regardless of whether you fail or succeed.”

  “You’ve been reading An Angel Without Wings. Thomas Ankell didn’t know if he was going to live or die or succeed or fail, but he could not stand what was happening around him, and he would have rather died than sit back and pretend to not see. I’m going to do the same,” Dean hissed. He looked around the group of teenagers. “I refuse to let Dana get away with this. I don’t care if he takes me, too. I’ll fight him until he relinquishes his title as head of the Commission of the People, or until I’m dead.”

  Everyone was quiet, sharing worried glances, not sure how to respond.

  Dean looked exasperated.

  “Aren’t you pissed?!” he bellowed. “Someone accused Miranda falsely and she was taken into the Commission. Who’s to say that the same won’t happen to you? The Commission is stepping out of its bounds! Dana’s stepping out of his bounds and disregarding the rules he’s supposed to enforce! Are you really going to stand by and let him do that?!”

  “No,” was the general hesitant consensus.

  “Fine. Saturday at the meeting we’re speaking up, in front of our parents, Dana, everyone. We still have our right of speech. We are within our rights to voice discontent.”

  I was pleased that I had not put myself in the position of leader of the angry group. As someone close to Dana, I was sure I would at least be able to advise the teens. It was safer to let the others take action first, until I knew how to use my close proximity to Dana to my advantage.

  The others were finally thinking of rebelling, of taking down Dana. But—cowardly—I had not stated anything about the revolution I had been planning with Mykail and Clark.

  I didn’t want to put myself in direct danger just yet.