“Boring, for the most part.” I fiddled with the papers in my hand. When he was sitting as well, I extended the notes to him. “But this was really interesting.”
“What is it?” he asked, taking the notes hesitantly.
“Clark found them in his book today at school,” I explained, watching his long, lithe fingers unfold the papers. “We can’t understand them, and we’re afraid of knowing who gave them to us. So, we’re hoping you understand this. It’s gibberish to us.”
He was watching me as I spoke and then looked at the first page. He blinked at the numbers and letters, confused. For a moment I was afraid he would also not be able to make sense of the equations.
Then he turned to the next page.
His eyes went wide and his gaze immediately flew back to me.
“Where did Clark get this?” he asked sharply.
I could not answer, too surprised by his reaction.
“Lily, where did he get these? Who gave them to him?” he pressed sternly.
“I-I don’t know,” I said. “Clark said he just found them in his book at school today.”
Mykail stared at me, trying to evaluate if I was telling the truth or not. He finally glanced back down at the papers, his eyes moving slowly over the page before he turned to the next one. His eyes went wider and his jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe this…”
“What is it?”
His eyes flicked between me and the notes as he took a deep breath. “This is very valuable, very dangerous information,” he answered. “It’s information on twenty-seven experiments. I mean…this has everything. Their ward number, cell number, the rotation they have, their general testing, their checkups, their security rounds…”
“How can you tell?”
“It’s a code used by the experiments.” He placed the notes between us on the bed. “Every week, every experiment gets some time to interact with others, to go outside and stretch their legs, so to speak.”
“Go outside?” I said skeptically.
“Yes. It’s also a way to test how much of a success testing is, so the scientists can gauge social interactions and whatnot.”
“Why don’t the experiments escape?”
“It’s not really outside. It’s an artificial environment. It looks a bit like a massive greenhouse. I don’t even think that it’s above ground, but it gives us time to be around one another.” Mykail tapped the papers slowly. “I don’t know where it started, but the experiments that have been there longer teach the younger experiments a code so that we can communicate in a way that the scientists and Dana won’t understand.”
“And this is in that code?”
“Yes,” he answered. He picked up the papers again and looked them over, shaking his head. “This is incredible…do you know who Clark’s gift was?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Do you think that it could be their family’s gift?”
“It’s unlikely. Dana is pretty thorough with the gift experiments. How much contact does Clark have with the other experiments in the Commission?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He said he goes there every day after school…”
Mykail groaned and rolled his eyes. “Then it could be anyone.”
“How many of the other experiments do you know?”
“Several,” he admitted. “I probably know most, if not all, of the twenty-seven here, even if it’s just from rumor, but I don’t know them by their numbers…” he said, flipping to the last page. He took another deep breath. “And whoever gave you these obviously knows me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever wrote this knows you are connected to someone who can read it.”
“Do you recognize the hand writing?” I pressed. “Do you know if it’s someone we can trust?”
“It’s someone who knows that we can’t be caught with this information.”
He looked at me seriously, flipping to one of the pages.
“We’re starting to build the army. Remember the map I drew you of the Commission? It’s time to start knowing who to possibly sneak out.”
“Already?”
“Well, you need to get close enough to Dana to get back there, and then you need to find a way to leave without detection,” Mykail mused. “You have a meeting tomorrow, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “Do you have any idea how you’re going to handle Dana?”
“No…” I admitted. “I don’t know how to prepare myself for something like this. I…” I sighed. “I’m afraid of him.”
“Good.” He nodded. “You should be. He’s dangerous. Your fear will keep you on your toes.”
“I don’t know what to expect, either.”
“Are you sure you want to do it this way?” he pressed. “You don’t have to, you know. We can find another way.”
“What other way can you see?” I challenged. I could not bear what the Commission was doing, and the thought of someone as crazy as Dana in such a powerful office caused me to shudder in understanding of the damage he could cause. I could not stand idly by and let the rest of my life be dictated. I could not let people like Mykail continue to suffer under the Commission of the People.
“I don’t like it,” he murmured.
“I know,” I said. “You and Clark have both told me how much you don’t like it, but we have no other choice, so why not use it to our advantage?”
Mykail stared at me and the amazing color of his piercing blue eyes caused my heart to flutter, forcing away thoughts of danger. I briefly wondered if I would ever become accustomed to his gaze.
He gently touched my jaw, the touch sending a spark through me that caused my body to shiver. The brush of his soft fingers caused my hair to stand on end and, before I could stop it, a sigh escaped my lips.
In the short time we had been talking to one another, plotting our revolution, I had found myself more and more attracted to Mykail. Sometimes, I would be rendered incapable of paying attention to what he said because the sound of his voice was hypnotic for me. Other times I would be mesmerized by the way his eyelashes looked against his high cheekbones as he blinked. Each movement had become hypnotizing and each touch electric.
We were kissing again.
The world disappeared and I tentatively moved my lips against his, not entirely sure what I was doing. I felt our mouths awkwardly work together, our teeth hitting—kissing was harder than it looked in movies.
The next thing I knew, my head was on a pillow and Mykail was lying at my side, his fingers playing over my cheek.
“What happened?” I asked, not remembering how I went from sitting to a horizontal position.
Mykail’s amused smile took my breath away.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. When I stopped kissing you, you had a cute little smile on your face, but your eyes were still closed. Then you were unconscious. I don’t know if you were so tired and bored that you fell asleep, or if it was such a good kiss that you fainted.”
My cheeks were burning in embarrassment as he finished his explanation. I covered my face, appalled.
“Oh my God…” I groaned, so embarrassed I would rather curl up and die than face him again.
“It’s alright,” he laughed, his hand now on my shoulder, trying to turn me back to face him.
“I am so embarrassed…” I mumbled. I peeked at him through my fingers. “Can you just say it was the latter?”
“Of course. I would be flattered.”
He gently took my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face, pinning them on either side of my head as he leaned down, planting a long, warm kiss to my lips.
When he pulled away, it was impossible to remember how to breathe.
“While you’re awake,” he said, “I should move you to your room. I was going to relocate you in an hour if you weren’t awake.”
“How long have I been out?” I asked in horror.
“About three
and a half hours,” he answered. He climbed off the bed and offered his hand to me.
I got to my feet, still intensely embarrassed that I had passed out.
We tiptoed out of Mykail’s room and went to mine. He guided me to my bed, holding the covers up as I crawled under them.
“Get some sleep.”
“Mykail…” I called as he started to move away, my hand tightening around his involuntarily.
“What is it?”
“Stay with me until I fall asleep?”
The request sounded childish and right out of a cheesy romance film, but I wanted him close. I wanted to lay beside him and have him there to protect me from the terrifying nightmares of Dana.
He squeezed my hand and took a position on my bed, propping his head up as he rested beside me.
I turned on my side to face him, entwining our fingers.
“Thank you.”
“Rest,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As a young child, Saturdays had been the best days of the week.
Now, they were my most dreaded days.
I woke up late that Saturday morning and, because of that, I was somehow conned into going grocery shopping with my mother. She liked to go marathon shopping, so, on our way to the supermarket, she saw a clothing outlet that she wanted to see.
“I think your father and I will be in Europe for about a month,” she said, talking about the trip she and Dad were not even sure they were going on yet. “Would you be alright on your own for a month?”
“Of course,” I assured yet again. “Is…uh, Mr. Christenson going, too?”
“No.” My mother shook her head, looking among the blouses on the rack. “Too dangerous for him to travel abroad.”
“Does that mean…I would have to go to those meetings by myself?” I was suddenly much less comfortable about being left alone.
My mother paused, thoughtful.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ll ask tonight.”
My stomach turned over for the millionth time that morning.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked, pretending to look at the clothes.
“Hm?”
“What do you think of him?”
“Who?”
“Mr. Christenson,” I clarified. My mom hesitated for a split second before shrugging.
“I don’t know,” she answered nonchalantly. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious…”
“What do you think of him?” she turned the question back to me.
“He scares me.”
My mother nodded.
“That’s understandable,” she admitted. “But, you know, some people who are extremely smart are very different, and that can be scary.”
“Smart?”
“He has a different way of looking at things,” my mother continued. “If you really think about it, it’s a very clear way to see things. It makes sense.”
“Wait, what?”
“Lily,” she said slowly, placing her hands on the hangers and turning to me, her expression serious, “he’s one of the most important men in the world. He is commander of the most powerful organization in our country. He has to be able to make decisions quickly and efficiently. To us, his judgments may seem rash, but he knows this world better than we do. He’s probably dealt with these things hundreds of times. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you say this,” I gawked. “You’re defending him?”
“He doesn’t need defending. He does what he has to for the security of the country.”
“How can you say that?” I hissed. “After seeing what he does to people. What he did to Mykail…to Dad’s brother?”
“They were dangerous.”
“And that makes it okay?”
“Do you realize how fortunate you are that the Commission does what it does? Do you ever hear the stories about how things were before the Commission? The Commission of the People keeps us safe.”
“At what cost?” I growled. “People being tortured? Tested on? Made into weapons or killed?!”
“Will you keep your voice down!” my mother snapped. “You’re too young to understand. I was the same way, once. When I heard about the revolution, about all the people who were displaced, I was horrified. But…as you get older, you realize that sacrifices like that must be made for the greater good. Not everyone is equal.”
I stared at my mother in horror. She had always been driven and stubborn, but she had also always been loving and caring, not just to the family, but to everyone she ever met.
Yet, she was justifying Dana Christenson and the Commission of the People, even knowing everything that happened inside the institution.
“I’ll be in the car,” I whispered, my voice choked.
I ran out of the store and cried.
My mom returned with some new clothes about a half-hour after I stormed off. Even though I had stopped crying, my eyes were still puffy and red and I refused to look at her.
She tried to give me a lecture about how I would understand when I was older and had more experience with the world. I told her I did not want to talk about it.
I did not speak to her even as we finished the shopping trip and brought everything into the house. I obediently brought bags inside, trying to avoid the worried, concerned eyes of Mykail, who was sitting in the living room watching silently. I knew if I so much as looked at him, I would break down crying again.
So, as soon as I could, I went to my room, threw myself on my bed, and silently fumed.
I was furious.
A human was still a human. I could not even begin to wrap my head around not granting everyone the opportunity to live. I did not understand why different meant dangerous, nor what gave us the right to decide who could live, die, or be tortured in the Commission. I would never be able to accept that, and the understanding that my mother had accepted it, when she had been the one to teach me to respect and cherish others, was baffling. It was as though only the individuals deemed safe by the Commission of the People were the ones deserving of basic human rights.
However, I knew that the Commission had no right to deem anyone safe when the most dangerous man in the world was at its helm.
I was not sure how long I remained on my bed, staring at the wall, irate and grinding my teeth, but I was surprised to hear my father call me, telling me we were going to be leaving in a half-hour.
I got up, disturbing an indignant Dexter, to get ready for the weekly Commission meeting.
When I was looking for something to wear, I panicked, trying to decide if I should wear something classy, but form-fitting to draw Dana’s attention, or dress really conservatively to pretend I didn’t want him to advance on me.
Running out of time, I finally decided on slacks and a blouse, but I left the blouse open to show some cleavage, a large necklace drawing attention to the area.
Putting some light makeup on, I hurried to my calling parents.
“Lily!” Mykail’s voice sounded. I back-pedaled to his barred door, where he was looking at me pleadingly.
“Be careful.”
I placed my hand on his, nodding.
My family hurried to the meeting, but we were not at all late and spent a lot of time socializing. I found Clark, eager to get away from my parents.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Alright, you?”
“Okay.” He glanced around the room and then back to me. “So?”
“He understands,” I said vaguely, my eyes conveying my message.
“Who understands?” a voice quipped behind me. I whirled around and saw Freddie, Brian, Lance, and Ryan lurking behind me, closing in like jackals. “And what does he understand?”
“Leave us alone,” Clark groaned, rolling his eyes. “Can’t you torment someone else for a change? We have to be boring prey by now.”
“Torment?” Freddie blinked, feigning
shock.
“Who said anything about torment?” Brian seconded.
“We were just trying to join the conversation,” Freddie said. “After all, you two are the topic of the gossip, now.”
“That’s a nice necklace, Lily,” Ryan grinned, leaning closer as I backed away. He reached toward my neck. “Is it a family heirloom?”
Clark grabbed Ryan’s wrist.
“Back off,” he snapped, angrily shoving Ryan’s hand away.
“Ooh…you’re possessive of your whore,” Lance leered.
Brian tapped Ryan on the shoulder and shook his head, nodding toward the other side of the room.
We all turned.
Dana was lurking half-behind the curtain that outlined the stage at the front of the room, looking at us from behind his dark glasses.
My blood halted.
I turned when I heard the boys who had been harassing me leave. As soon as I saw that they were back-pedaling, my eyes turned back to Dana, who was still peeking out from behind the curtain with the innocence of a five-year-old and the malice of a ravenous wolf.
I shivered.
“Monday, during lunch, come to the east court of the school and we’ll talk there,” Clark hissed. I turned away from Dana and looked at Clark, whose eyes were locked on the leader of the Commission. “Alright?”
I nodded.
I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I knew what was about to happen.
“I am pleased to see that the two of you have become such close friends,” the cold, dangerous voice said as it drew closer.
His hand was on my shoulder as well as Clark’s as he stood between us.
“And Clark, good job protecting Little Lily this time,” Dana praised. He turned to me and, though I dared not look, I knew his eyes were boring into me. “Little Lily,” he said with a disapproving tone, “you have to be more careful around these young men, or I will have to keep closer watch over you.”
Something about the statement made me shiver.
“Do I need to make another announcement?”
“No!” I snapped, worried about the way everyone would respond to another threat.
“Why not?” he pressed. “It would be fun to see them squirm a little more.”
“They don’t need to squirm.”
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