Inside, Pt. 2

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Inside, Pt. 2 Page 47

by Kyra Anderson


  “Hey, what’s been up with you?” I snapped. “You’re acting like I did something wrong.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Clark admitted, turning to fix me with a sharp look. “So don’t start.”

  We fell silent for the trek to the cave passage. I was getting annoyed with how everyone was acting as though we had done something terrible. I did not understand how they could not see what an accomplishment it was to gain more support.

  There was a warm welcome waiting at the fort. Everyone turned when they saw the door opening and let out a cheer of welcome, rushing toward Clark and me. The energy of the fort made me smile and renewed my determination. Everyone was still talking in amazement about the response we had received from the Liberation Day Parade, thrilled with the growing attention.

  Tori gave me a hug and then Griffin came up to me, hugging me tightly, lifting me off the ground.

  “How have you been, kid? Steering clear of Dana?”

  “Trying,” I laughed, rolling my eyes.

  “Well, we have someone who really wants to see you.” Griffin winked. “But, we kinda figured you didn’t want an audience…”

  I laughed.

  “Thank you.”

  “Alright,” Griffin nodded, clearing a path for me through the crowd as whistles and playful teasing followed. Normally, that would have made me embarrassed, but I was too excited to see Mykail to care about the jibes.

  Tori let me down a hallway of storage rooms and brought me into the ammunition room. She turned to me with a grin.

  “Just stay on the right wall, the left one has the grenades.”

  “Alright,” I laughed. I had been in the ammunition room a few times before, and was always annoyed with how little light there was around the cases of bullets and grenades. This time, the dim glow fell on pristine white feathers.

  “Just come to the main bunker whenever you feel like it,” Griffin smiled, closing the door, shutting me in the room with Mykail.

  I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck, my mouth locking on his as he stumbled to steady himself, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me close. We kissed passionately for several long minutes before I finally pulled away, my breath as heavy as his.

  “I missed you…” he whispered.

  “I missed you more…” I pecked him on the lips. “I was about to go insane without you.”

  “Really?” Mykail laughed as I pushed on his chest, making him step back, turning him until he was against one of the larger stacks of crates.

  “Yes. I was about to go find someone else I needed you so much…” I teased.

  “Don’t even joke about that,” he chuckled airily. “I would have to come steal you back if you went with anyone else.”

  “Oh really?” I smiled, running both my hands up his abdomen and to his chest, pushing him harder to pin him. “What would you do to win me back?”

  “Anything I had to,” he grinned, leaning forward and kissing me in a lingering lip-lock before breaking away and smiling. “Would you be willing to take me back?”

  “Oh…I think I might…” I grinned devilishly. “You already know so well what I like…”

  He smiled proudly before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out.

  “Lily…let me go,” he said with a broken laugh. “You’re pinning my wings…”

  “I know,” I said, keeping one hand on him as I began unbuttoning my jacket with the other hand, revealing the deep V-neck sweater underneath, a large pendant resting in my cleavage to draw attention. I had fully planned on jumping Mykail when we had a moment alone, and I wanted to leave no room for him to refuse.

  His eyes fell to the pendant and his pupils dilated. He licked his lips before looking back at me, his eyes dark with purpose.

  I let him go just long enough to shed my coat before I pushed him back against the crates. He cringed and tried to push forward.

  “Lily, I’m serious. My wings…”

  “I know it hurts,” I grinned, leaning closer. “But a little bit of pain every now and then is pleasurable, isn’t it?”

  His eyes fluttered shut. I was sure he was recalling the nights we had been a little rougher with one another and the excitement we had both felt at small jabs of pain.

  I wrapped both my arms around his neck, directing his head to the exposed skin under my collarbone. He let out a breath of relief as the strain on his wings lessened and kissed the large pendant before his hands wrapped around my sides, holding my ribcage as he kissed the exposed skin.

  My breath came short and heavy and before long, I was tired of the slow foreplay. I turned him away from the crates and pushed him onto the floor. He caught himself on his hands and looked up at me as I pulled the sweater over my head, dropping it to the ground and quickly shimmying out of my jeans and shoes. I straddled his lap, kissing him as he leaned back on his wings, his hands now free to grab at my thighs.

  My hands skimmed down to his pants and carefully worked them open, reaching to find the hot flesh I was looking for.

  His mouth broke from mine and his breath hitched in his throat.

  I smiled at how easily he was aroused by me. It was just another part of my power trip, knowing I had that effect on him.

  The thought that we were in the fort with other people nearby did nothing more than excite me. I was in control entirely and Mykail willingly followed.

  Our hunger was eventually sated and we remained still, shuddering, still connected as we sat in the middle of the ammunition room, our eyes closed and our breaths labored.

  “Wow…” Mykail finally breathed. I chuckled breathlessly. “That was really…”

  “Amazing?” I smiled, opening my eyes to see his pleased expression.

  “I was going to say bold, but yes, absolutely amazing,” he grinned, his eyes fluttering open. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me, sitting upright and stretching his wings, which had been supporting him through our entire reunion. “I like it when you’re aggressive.”

  “Me, too.”

  “But…” A sheepish smile took over his face. “Please don’t pin me anymore. It really hurts with the wings.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, kissing him. “I won’t do that again.”

  We took our time composing ourselves. I should have felt embarrassed walking into the main bunker again, considering everyone knew what had just happened between Mykail and me, but there was no part of me that was ashamed. I felt amazing, powerful, and strong. I immediately started mingling with the people eager to talk to me, leaving Mykail to trail behind.

  At one point, Mykail went to speak to other people while I listened to some of the stories Tori was telling me about the preparations made for our next move.

  When there was a lull in the conversation, I felt a hand gently tap my arm. Mark was behind me, his glasses off, revealing his serious, yet sad, eyes.

  “Hey, Mark,” I said, worried. “What is it?”

  Mark lifted his hand, his palm to the ground, and bent his fingers, as if waving, before he began walking away.

  “Wait, what?” I turned back to Tori. “What was that? Is he leaving?”

  “No,” Tori chuckled. “He wants you to follow him.”

  I followed Mark to one of the rarely-used hallways off the main bunker. He led me to one of the heavily-locked doors. I tried to remember where the door led, but it had been so long since I had explored the fort that I had forgotten what a lot of the rooms were. Mark heaved the door open with little difficulty before descending the staircase, the single light flickering incessantly.

  I immediately remembered the room at the bottom of the stairs. It was a large room that seemed to have had no purpose. It was a cavernous space that echoed and always gave me the creeps. Halfway down the stairs, when I realized where we were going, I halted.

  “Mark, why are you taking me down here?”

  He turned, his eyes filled with a sad and worried emotion that I could not quite fathom. His jaw clenched and he op
ened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but he let out a quiet breath before climbing the few stairs that separated us and reaching a hand out, palm up.

  I looked between the hand and Mark’s expressive, dark eyes.

  After I placed my hand in his, he led me down the rest of the staircase to the other door, which was already open, pulling me into the cavernous room. I stopped, surprised to see Griffin standing next to a table at the back of the room. He also looked serious.

  “Griffin?”

  I jumped when Mark slid the door shut behind me and the sound echoed through the room. I was becoming frightened.

  “Come over here, Lily,” Griffin called.

  I forced my almost-shaking legs forward. Mark followed, though he moved to a trunk that had been placed against the wall behind the table.

  “You both are making me nervous…”

  “Good,” Griffin said. “It will keep you alert.” Griffin turned to Mark, who was crouched in front of the chest, gathering things. “Don’t worry, Lily, we’re not going to hurt you. Mark and I want to teach you something.” He extended an arm around my shoulder, pulling me toward the table. It was only then that I noticed there were plastic milk jugs in the far corner. One was suspended from a rope near the back wall.

  Before I could ask what was going on, Mark was at my other side, holding his gun out in front of me. His finger pressed something on the side and the clip slipped out. Placing the full clip on the table, he pulled the top of the gun back and tilted it sideways to let the bullet slip out of the chamber. I was frozen, staring at a weapon I had never been so close to.

  When Mark had completely emptied the gun in front of me, he held it out for me to take. I stared stupidly for a long moment before looking up at Mark, whose eyes were no longer sad. They were hard and cold, frighteningly serious. I turned to Griffin, who also had a very serious expression.

  “Go ahead,” Griffin urged.

  I turned back to the black metal. I touched the handle, closing my fingers around the cold gun and lifting it from Mark’s hand. I was surprised by how heavy it was and quickly tightened my fingers to keep it from slipping.

  “Alright, first rule,” Griffin said, stepping to my other side and placing his hand over mine, pointing the gun down at the table. “Don’t point a gun carelessly. Don’t aim it at anyone, even if it’s empty. Particularly don’t aim it at either of us because we know how to disarm you before you can blink.”

  I shivered at the words.

  “This is the safety.” He pointed to a switch near the back of the gun. “S means the safety is on, if it’s red,” he flicked the switch to show the painted red, “then it’s live.” He put the safety back on, even though the gun was not loaded. “Here is your hammer. This is a double action, so that means that when you fire a shot, it cocks the gun again so you can keep firing.” He stood behind me and his large arms wrapped around my shoulders, lifting my hands with the gun. “This hand is the one you will pull the trigger with, go ahead and rest your finger there,” he moved my finger into position. “Now, this hand,” he grabbed my other hand and put it around the gun, “will help you stabilize and aim.” His hands went to my shoulders and turned me at an angle. “Use your core,” he told me, tapping my belly. His head dropped to my shoulder, and he pointed at the two ridges on the top of the gun. “Here’s your sight. When you aim, try to line up the ridge at the end of the barrel between this sight.” He backed away. “Okay?”

  I nodded silently.

  Griffin picked up the clip on the table, turning to show me the numbers on the back as I lowered the gun, taking special care not to point it at anything other than the table. “See? This clip is full. You have fifteen rounds. You’re going to try and hit that target.”

  “Wait, this is target practice?”

  “This is a lesson in how to use a gun,” Griffin corrected. He turned to Mark, who handed him protective headphones. “Put these on. You don’t want to damage your ears. The gun is loud enough as it is, but it echoes like hell in here.”

  I put the gun down and grabbed the bulky headphones, carefully slipping them over my head before pushing one side back to hear Griffin.

  “Great,” Griffin nodded, taking another one of the head phones from Mark and putting it around his neck. “Pick up the gun and the clip and load it,” he said, watching as I shakily picked up the gun and clip, turning it and putting it in the gun carefully. Griffin reached over and hit the bottom to lock the clip in place. “Good, now take the safety off and pull the hammer back with your thumb.”

  I followed instructions cautiously.

  “And you’re live,” he said, pulling the headphones over his ears as Mark did the same. “Take your time to aim and try to hit the jug.”

  Mark reached forward and pushed the headphone back over my ear as I took a deep breath, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I closed one eye and tried to line up the ridges as Griffin had told me, pointing at the jug. However, my shaking hands caused me to continue moving the gun, particularly as my finger curled around the trigger. I took another deep breath, tightening the pressure on the trigger.

  Suddenly, both my arms bent and my wrists suffered a sharp jerk as the bullet left the chamber and soared to the left of the jug, embedding in the wall. I was shocked at the amount of recoil the gun had and how hard it was to aim. Nervously, after getting the nod from Griffin, I took aim again.

  Mark approached me and his hand went into the inside of my right elbow, bending my arm before readjusting my left hand to support my right. His hand went around my back and pressed on my shoulder blades while his other hand pressed flat to my stomach, causing me to lean forward. He readjusted my shoulders before stepping back.

  Focusing on the target again, I took careful aim.

  Pulling the trigger once more, I was still surprised by the jolt of movement, but I was not shaken by it. The bullet hit much closer to the jug, but was low. I took aim once again, remembering to bend my arm, lean forward, and angle my shoulders. I pulled the trigger. This time, my shock was due to something else entirely.

  The side of the jug ruptured and water ejected in all directions. The water sloshed over the ruptured edges as the jug swung back and forth from the force of the shot.

  I should have been proud that I hit the target, but there was a greater part of me that was horrified. While I knew plastic and water was not a good representation of human flesh, realizing how the bullet had decimated the plastic to make the water jut out made me think of what would happen to a person.

  Mark placed his hand on my wrist and slowly lowered my hands, turning the safety on before taking the gun out of my hands, pulling out the clip once again and emptying the chamber, setting the components on the table.

  Griffin took my shoulders and pulled me away from the table, removing his headphones. I did the same, turning to him, my heart racing and my hands trembling. I thought firing the gun would make me feel more powerful, but it didn’t. It frightened me.

  “Good job, you hit it,” Griffin congratulated. I watched Mark walk to the jug, untying it.

  “What…what would that do to a person?” I whispered, my voice weak.

  “Nothing much different.”

  We watched silently as Mark walked to us with the jug. Mark held out the plastic. I was surprised that, with all the water that had exploded from the container, the damage was clean and precise. The side had blown out from the displaced water, but it looked as though someone had cut the plastic with a knife.

  “Lily, it’s important that you know how to fire a gun and protect yourself,” Griffin said. “The truth is, Mark and I were getting worried. You seemed to be getting a little too confident with what’s been happening lately. Actually, it’s nothing to celebrate. A rebellion has bloodshed, people get hurt and people die. And when we start getting support is when we become a threat to the people with the big guns.”

  I looked between Griffin and Mark.

  “Guns are very powerful, but only beca
use of the people at the trigger. You have to humble yourself, and remember that every life is precious. You were upset because of the way the experiments were treated. So don’t contradict your care for people by getting careless and forgetting how easily someone can be killed.”

  I looked at the jug and swallowed hard.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “We’re not scolding you,” Griffin assured. “But…Mark and I…we’ve both killed. And that is something that changes you forever. We want you to understand that a rebellion is not without pain and blood.”

  Griffin wrapped one arm around me.

  “We just want to look out for you, keep you in line,” he teased, his tone light. I smiled before wrapping my arms around as much of him as I could.

  “Thank you,” I whispered sincerely.

  After he released me, I turned to Mark, who was watching with a slightly happier light in his eyes.

  “You, too,” I smiled, opening my arms. He smiled shyly and stepped back, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, we’ve hugged before. I’m going to hug you whether you want to or not.”

  Mark retreated another step, laughing silently.

  “Mark doesn’t like to be touched,” Griffin noted with a chuckle.

  “Well, generally those people,” I said, jogging to him and hugging him tightly, “are the ones who need hugs the most.”

  Mark only hugged me back briefly before backing away. I laughed at how shy and awkward he was, such a change from who he had been when he brought me to the room. I glanced between them. “Seriously, thank you…I guess I really needed a lesson…”

  “We all do every now and again,” Griffin said with a wink.

  “So…I’m curious about something,” I started. “Who shoots better out of the two of you?”

  “Ah, we have not found out, yet.” Griffin grinned at Mark. “You promised we would compete. I guess now is the time.”

  Mark nodded and walked back down the room, tying a new jug to the rope. I watched with a smile, trying not to look at the ruptured jug on the ground behind me. Mark returned to the table after fixing the target.

  “Ten rounds?” Griffin asked. Mark nodded and motioned to the gun on the table. Griffin easily put the gun together, checking how many rounds he had. He placed his headphones on and took aim.

 

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