Inside, Pt. 2

by Kyra Anderson

  “Not yet,” Dana admitted. “Maybe one day. I’m still looking for the thing that frightens me. That way, I can learn how to overcome that as well.” Dana leaned forward. “Why don’t you take the first step and let go of your fear of me?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to become like you.”

  “Yes, you do,” Dana chuckled. “Everyone does. Everyone wants to be this powerful, this in control…I’m sure you know the feeling. The feeling of running free, following only your instinct and your gut, being completely controlled by your nature. You probably felt it when you were breaking everyone out of the Commission cells…”

  “I told you, I didn’t do it.”

  “It was exhilarating, wasn’t it? How would you like to feel that all the time?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snapped. “How would you expect me to break out all those people, kill all those guards…all in less than seven minutes?”

  “Well, obviously you had help.” Dana rolled his eyes. “By my calculations, though, you could have probably done this with…five people?” He looked at me, expecting me to correct him.

  “Five people?” I barked. “Five? You’re telling me that you were infiltrated by only five people and you got kicked in the ass this hard?” I laughed heartily, shaking my head. “Oh, Dana, you’re way off your game.”

  Dana grinned, showing all his teeth. I found myself enraptured in our game. He knew I was gloating internally about our victory. There was a cocky part of me that wanted to correct him, to tell him that we managed it with only four people, but the more rational part of my brain immediately stamped out the desire.

  “You’re enjoying this,” he noted.

  “I am,” I nodded. “Seems you’re not as powerful and in control as you think.”

  “Oh, I am,” he assured. “More than you know.”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Because you’re not looking the right way,” Dana said. “For instance, if you were looking correctly, you would see that I am incredible aroused by your defiance.”

  “Maybe I did see it,” I shrugged, “and I’m just teasing you.” I began walking toward the door. “Besides, I figured you would have been satisfied sucking your fat French friend’s cock.”

  “Don’t get it backwards,” Dana laughed. “It is a rare occasion that I go on my knees.”

  I opened the door and threw a cocky look over my shoulder.

  “In my experience, you don’t have to be on your knees.” I slipped out the office door and closed it behind me, grinning broadly and walking confidently back to the conference room.

  * *** *

  Thankfully, my parents were still trying to recover from their long time in Europe, so they went to bed early. I stayed up, trying to complete my homework, though I could not focus. A part of me wanted to get it done, to pull my grades up and get into university, but there was a dark, angry part of me that told me not to. I needed to rebel against Dana, against his plan for me. I needed to focus on only that.

  A few minutes before eleven, there was a small click on my window that caused both me and Dex to jump. I strode over to my window, stroking the top of Dexter’s head to soothe him before I leaned on the window sill. There were two figures standing in the driveway below, waiting for me.

  I darted to Mykail’s bedroom door.

  “Mykail,” I hissed. He turned to me, startled. “Mark and Clark are here. Grab a blanket. It’s cold outside.”

  He pulled the blanket off the top of the bed while I ran to my room and grabbed my heavy coat, slipping it on as I fished for the gloves in my pocket.

  Mykail and I slipped into the cold garage and then out to the backyard. Telling Mykail to wait, I darted through the side gate to the driveway, leading the two visitors around the back of the house.

  “Did you drive here?” I asked as I latched the gate behind them, realizing I had not seen a car.

  “No,” Clark snapped playfully. “Mr. Cautious over here wanted to walk.”

  “You walked all the way from your house in this cold?” I hissed in shock. I turned to Mark and saw that he was dressed in nothing but his normal suit. While he was not shivering, his cheeks were tinted red and his lips were stained pale blue. Worried, I led them to Mykail and then told everyone to wait, running upstairs and snatching another blanket.

  Clark was talking congenially with Mykail when I returned. I walked to Mark and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

  “Don’t get sick on us, Mark.”

  He blinked, surprised, and then smiled and nodded, holding the blanket appreciatively. I focused my attention on Clark.

  “What about you? Are you warm enough?”

  “You didn’t get me a blanket anyway?” Clark pouted playfully.

  “Your lips weren’t blue!” I laughed. “Seriously, buy him a coat.” I then let out a sigh, watching the smoke appear from my mouth and disperse into the frigid air. “Okay, I wanted to talk to you about a plan.”

  “Yeah, a plan for what?”

  “Well, we might have gotten everyone out of the Commission, but the only way we can ensure that we’re safe is to take down the whole operation, right? Otherwise, there was no point to what we did.”

  “We broke a lot of people out,” Clark objected.

  “Who can’t live in the fort until they die,” I reminded him. “Even though we have over one hundred people, we need a lot more if we want to bring down the Commission. Dana told me that the people of America have been looking up things on the internet because of the emails and pop-ups, so we have people interested. Now we just need to prove to them that the Commission is mutilating people and making them into weapons.”

  “Okay, but to do that, we need something that will go viral before Central takes it down.”

  “So we make sure to do it on a live broadcast,” I declared. “Somewhere where there will be a lot of people watching the live feed from their homes. Something that will really shock people.”

  “The Liberation Day Parade…” Clark hissed. “I see.”

  “What do you think, Mark?”

  He nodded and tapped his right ear twice. I turned to Mykail for the translation.

  “Keep talking.”

  “The news crews are spread out, but the major, nationwide cameras are always at the intersection of Main and Delaware, right? Because that is where the parade stops for the Ankell float to perform its dedication.”

  “Right,” Clark confirmed.

  “That is where we reveal everyone. We’ll get people in the parade with signs and banners as if they are just part of another organization, maybe even the group representing the Commission of the People. It’s just before the Ankell float, so all the news cameras will be rolling, waiting for the dedication. That’s when everyone flips their banners around to match our previous flier with their own pictures.”

  Mark lifted his head quickly and did some quick hand signals. These ones were not as subtle as some of the others he had previously used, but Mykail understood.

  “He wants to know how we get everyone to escape. There is security at the parade.”

  “But minimal security,” I pointed out. “We get everyone to scatter before the Commission vans show up. Everyone takes a different way back to the fort.” I explained. “We show our message and then we run. If nothing else, it will be talked about, which is much more important than sticking around. We’ll plant some regular humans and Commish Kids in the crowd to act as distractions, and we’ll get them to make a scene. That will give us time to get the experiments out of the street and into the drains, where they can all split up and take different passages to the fort.”

  Clark’s smile widened.

  “So, just the experiments. We won’t be marching?”

  “No, no,” I shook my head quickly. “We can’t. The Commish Kids will have to act as though we are trying to capture them and cause a scene that makes things too confu
sing for people to do anything. The experiments disappear again and we will tell Dana we tried.”

  “Do you think we can pull it off?” Mykail asked, turning to Mark. The silent experiment was looking at his feet in the snow. He shifted his weight a few times and then nodded slowly, looking at me with a small, but confident, smile.

  “There’s only one problem I see…” Clark said. “I mean, besides the risk that we actually get caught. Most of the experiments look normal. We can’t have Mark, any of the others in the Eight Group, or any of the minorities. They’ll be noticed before we even get to Main.”

  “I agree that Mark can’t be seen,” I nodded strongly. “At this point, Mark, you are our strongest ally. We need you to stay on Dana’s good side and keep you safe.”

  “Right, so how do we convince the people that these normal-looking people are experiments of the Commission? The Commission members are going to be the only ones who know the kind of torture these people went through.”

  I sighed, turning the problem over carefully. There had to be a way for us to prove that the former prisoners had been made into weapons without endangering the people who were going to be watching the parade.

  I slowly turned to Mykail.

  “Mykail…could you do something for us?”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Hey, where are you?” I asked, trying to hear Clark on my phone around the noise of the people chatting excitedly, gathered around the barriers on the street.

  “Almost at the intersection,” Clark said. “There are a lot of news crews…is everyone in place?”

  “Pretty much,” I confirmed, squeezing through the backs of two people talking to their families. “It’s a zoo out here…”

  “I forgot that this is your first Liberation Day Parade in Central,” Clark laughed. “My mother was really shocked that I wanted to come here instead of watching it on television.”

  “It certainly seems like the better option,” I groaned irritably. “Felicity and Dean are here. From the text, it seems they managed to get everyone set.”

  “Awesome.”

  I felt another buzz on my phone and pulled it away from my ear to see the text message. Moving past the message from Felicity asking me where I was—our designated signal to say that all the experiments had managed to sneak into the lineup without trouble—I saw another text from Sarah, asking me where I was.

  “Sarah just text me,” I told Clark vaguely.

  “Great.”

  “Now, if I can just get where I’m supposed to be…” I growled, becoming extremely annoyed when a large family with three kids ran to the people at the barrier and blocked my path. Grinding my teeth in frustration, I pressed myself to the wall of the bank building and shimmied around the mother and father.

  “You sound tense,” Clark teased.

  “And you don’t,” I snapped. “Why is that?”

  “What is there to be nervous about?” Clark asked. “Everything will be great. We have this down.”

  “How is it that you can be so nervous about the first thing we did, but not this? We’re basically putting ourselves out in the open here…”

  “This was your plan.”

  “I know…”

  “Besides, we may be out in the open, but before we were strolling into the lion’s den, more or less,” Clark pointed out. “This involves a lot less danger on our part…”

  “Maybe…” I said, glancing warily over one of the guards standing by the barrier.

  “Take a deep breath,” Clark instructed. “We’ve been going over this for two weeks. It will be perfect.”

  “I wish we had a little more time,” I murmured. “Okay, text when you’re at your spot.”

  I was extremely nervous. Even though it had been a plan I had concocted and developed with the help of Tori, Griffin, Mark, and Josh, I was still nervous about the execution. With all the innocent people around, I saw increased potential for something to go horribly wrong. I was not sure if the police were armed with real guns or Tasers, and I quickly saw the situation spiraling toward civilian deaths.

  My phone buzzed with another text message.

  Becca: Hey. Im at Main. Where r u?

  Almost there…

  Typing the quick reply, I wove around people and their cameras and children, trying to avoid the lines surrounding the stands for hot coffee and giant salted pretzels. Seeing the Liberation Day Parade on television was very different from being in the crowd. There seemed to be a lot more people.

  I saw the first crew of the major news stations. They were doing their opening reports about the weather and the turnout that year, explaining that the parade was going to start in approximately five minutes. I tried to avoid walking behind the reporters to keep myself from view of the cameras. I hid behind a larger man who was walking past one reporter whose camera was blocking my path, forcing me into the pack of people.

  Finally, I saw the sign for Main Street. I pushed forward aggressively, eager to get to my position. I caught sight of other accomplices, who nodded silently when they saw me pass.

  This was our public declaration of war.

  Spotting Becca near a barrier next to one of the guards, I slipped between more spectators, earning a few nasty looks from people who were trying to get to the front as well.

  “Hey,” I greeted, finally reaching her.

  “Hey,” she smiled. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Thanks for coming,” I said. “It’s nice being here with someone.”

  I got a text.

  Clark: Hey. I can see you! I’m right across the road from you!

  I looked up, even though I knew that it was our signal text, and saw him standing at the opposite barrier, smiling.

  I took a few deep breaths, trying to remain calm.

  “Are you okay?” Becca asked.

  “Yeah, I’m, uh…” I looked around and motioned stupidly, “a little claustrophobic…”

  She nodded, understanding my real tension.

  I glanced around at everyone I knew around us, seeing them stationed near the news crews as we had planned, waiting patiently for their cue.

  It was their cue that was worrying me the most.

  My heart was thumping against my ribs as I worried over the fact that I was putting so many people in danger and, in a sense, outing myself as being involved in the rebellion against the Commission of the People. I peeked at the holster of the policeman next to me.

  Clark pulled out his phone and leaned on the barrier, holding his phone sideways to start filming.

  I leaned over the barrier near the guard and looked down the street. A dull roar sounded as the first float began lumbering down the street, beginning the parade. The news crews announced that the first float was approaching, being led by one of the many bands and dance teams at the Liberation Day Parade every year.

  Taking a deep breath, I also began recording with my phone, watching as the colorful, fun floats brought a possible disaster ever closer.

  I cheered with everyone else, being sure that my voice was heard on my phone camera as I continued to film the floats, dance teams, flag teams, and civilian and non-profit groups move down Delaware Boulevard. Even though I knew what was approaching, I was captivated as the bright balloons and skilled dance teams dazzled me with the celebration of our liberation from the Washington System. I felt as though I was five years old, finally achieving my dream of seeing the parade up close.

  Looking at the wide, mesmerized eyes of the children and their smiling parents around me, I almost wanted to back out on the plan, thinking in that brief moment of smiles and awe that the Commission was acceptable to keep the peace and security of those happy families.

  But the sounding of the loud horns playing our national anthem made me remember that I was fighting for our country. America was safe and secure, but putting up a façade to everyone in the country and the world, pretending to fight for the safety and happiness of the people when it was torturing captives and creatin
g weapons of incredible power. There was no way I could stand for that.

  I steadied my camera, seeing the band draw closer, the float of the bald eagle followed by a group of Commission members holding the national flag as they walked down Delaware Boulevard. There was a tight ball of apprehension in my stomach, seeing the bright red and blue flag with the seven stars positioned diagonally, one for each region of America and the seventh representing Central. It was a flag I had grown up worshiping, and even though I no longer believed in what our country stood for, I still bowed my head, placing my hand over my heart, with everyone else, and repeating the pledge, adding my voice to the dull rumble.

  “I pledge my life, my love, and my servitude to the flag of America, and to our Central Nation Values, which I hold in highest regard, as guidance within the family of our nation, unified in service, to provide peace and security to all.”

  I lifted my head as the flag turned the corner onto Main Street in continuation of the parade, the band following, repeating our national anthem.

  My entire body went on alert as gasps and murmurs began to fall over the crowd. Quickly turning my camera, I saw white banners of thanks to the Second Revolutionary fighters switch to fliers of red and black, depicting the faces of the people holding the banners with their names printed in bold white.

  “Griffin Thomas: Level 9 Weapon of the Commission of the People.”

  “Tori Gilligan: Level 10 Weapon of the Commission of the People.”

  A few of the other experiments who had their large signs hanging around their necks also unfolded their cloth banner to reveal the large message painted messily in red.

  STOP THE TORTURE! QUESTION THE COMMISSION!

  “Those are the people on the emails…”

  “What do they mean weapons?”

  “Who are these people?”

  “The Commission? The Commission of the People is torturing people?”

  And then, the part I was most anxious for happened. The band, seeing the shocked and terrified looks on the faces of the spectators, stopped playing, turning to the group behind them. The float depicting the final battle of Thomas Ankell against the Washington Army halted abruptly and everyone on the float blinked in confusion.