Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  “I’m sorry…” he said gently, rubbing my shoulder. “Really…I am…”

  “Please…” I said, sniffing. “Don’t make me cry.” I laughed brokenly, the breath straining out of me. I turned to blink the tears away and saw a very worried Mark staring at us through his glasses. “It’s alright,” I said. “I’m alright.” I scratched my neck twice with my right hand to assure him that I was okay, but he was clearly not convinced.

  After a brief hesitation, he opened the car door for us.

  We were silent during the drive, but as we pulled into the gates of the Commission, Clark turned to me.

  “Hey…maybe it would be a really good idea for you to just sit in the conference room and not wander around today,” he said slowly.

  I did not respond. My thoughts were somewhere else…down in the Commission…where my mother was most likely with Dana.

  As we were checked in, the woman at the front desk told Clark that his mother wanted to see him, so he had to go upstairs. He asked me if I would be okay going downstairs on my own, which I assured him I was, even though it was an automatic response and I didn’t think about what he was asking before I answered.

  We went into separate elevators and as he went up to his mother’s office, I went into the basement with Mark. As the elevator descended, I fell further into a dark cloud where all I could think of was Dana with my mother.

  When the doors opened and I stepped out, I felt my stomach tighten sickeningly. Mark followed as I moved through the now-familiar hallways to the conference rooms. I was about to walk into the nearest one when Mark stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I turned quickly and he shook his head pointing at the schedule by the door. Realizing I had forgotten to check, I glanced at the screen, seeing the scheduled meeting.

  I walked to another conference room, being sure to check the schedule before going in.

  I was looking at the room in tunnel vision. I knew my mother was going to cheat on my father, but speculating about it was almost worse than actually knowing. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration before shaking my head and turning to leave the conference room.

  As I started to walk away from the door, Mark caught my arm and looked at me seriously. He had taken off his glasses in the elevator, so I could see the imploring look in his eyes.

  “I’m alright,” I assured half-heartedly, shaking my head and trying to move out of his grip. His fingers tightened just enough to be painful and I cringed, which made him release me. I stared at him for a moment and then forced a shaky smile.

  “I’m okay,” I repeated. He started to step forward but I held my hand up to him. “Stay here,” I told him clearly.

  He hesitated, but then bowed his head and backed away.

  I should have put more thought to how attentive Mark was being but I could not see anything through my tunnel vision.

  I followed the curves and twists through the quiet office area, walking toward Dana’s office as if my feet had a mind of their own. Everything inside of me screamed to turn around and go back, to forget my concern about finding out the truth. I walking toward something that was only going to give me pain.

  But morbid curiosity got the better of me.

  I reached up and, slower than I thought physically possible, I lowered the silver handle of the door and felt the latch slowly slip free of the confines of the door jamb.

  “…appreciate all this,” my mother’s voice said.

  “Of course,” Dana’s voice was quiet, soft, flowing over his lips like water. “I want to be sure that all members of the Commission are well. I saw that you were struggling…”

  “I apologize…” my mother said. The door was almost open enough to see Dana’s desk. I dropped to my knees, hoping that no one would walk by and see me spying.

  “Whatever for?”

  “I should have been stronger about this whole thing…” she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly. The door was finally open enough to see them. Dana was leaning against the front of his desk, one leg relaxed as he supported his weight on his hands. My mother was sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. While the angle did not allow me to see her face, I saw her legs and realized she was wearing the short black dress she had always said she was too embarrassed to wear in public.

  I wondered who was trying to seduce whom.

  “You were strong,” Dana said gently.

  “It’s just…don’t get me wrong, I feel very privileged to be a part of the Commission of the People, but…since we joined, my family hasn’t been the same…”

  “That’s to be expected,” Dana conceded. “You have been introduced to a world most would never even dream of. But…” he leaned closer and reached forward, touching her jaw as he smiled that smile that made everyone weak in the knees, “there is no need to be afraid of change. It’s natural…embrace it.”

  The voice. The eyes. How did he know how to do that? How was it that even I could feel that power when it was not directed at me? It seemed to be a part of his presence, commanding the entire space around him, regardless of who he was directing his actions at.

  “How long have you been down here, Dana?” my mother asked as he slowly pulled his hand away from her face. The action was delicate, fluid, and so perfectly timed that my mother leaned forward, trying to follow his fingers. He remained close, inviting her to close the gap between them.

  “What do you mean?”

  I was watching a perfectly choreographed dance, but one of the participants had been told to simply react to the other. It was a perfect set up. Dana knew exactly how to move, exactly how to speak and change his expression, knew which direction his eyes needed to shift and when to let the bottom of his teeth show in the softest smile…he knew what she wanted before she even realized it. He was dancing to her presence, weaving a net that led her to react to him as he wanted.

  It was captivating to watch.

  “You work in the Commission all the time…down here, out of the sunlight…” my mother reached forward, her hand trembling as she brushed her fingers over the hand resting on his leg. Their faces were so close…

  “I have responsibilities,” Dana breathed, turning his hand so that their fingers continuously brushed one another, not intertwining or holding. “I cannot ignore them.”

  My mother moved forward in her seat, her other hand pressing to the lapel of Dana’s suit.

  “Must be stressful…” she whispered. “Shouldering all this responsibility…”

  “We all have our stresses in life, Karen,” Dana said gently. “I feel that you have an extremely stressful job, raising Little Lily and trying to keep your household together…” He looked at her, his eyes changing. “How do you manage?”

  “We do what we must…” she breathed, her voice sounding weak as her eyes locked with his. “We all have our way…of relieving stress…” Her hand moved up his lapel and to the back of his neck as her other hand closed around his lapel, his fingers drifting over her wrist.

  “What about you, Mr. Christenson?” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire as she looked into his eyes. “How do you relieve your stress?”

  He did not answer. He reached out with his other hand and took her chin, pulling her close and kissing her.

  I felt my stomach flip, but another part of me was fascinated and intrigued. I wondered how Dana could so easily manipulate my mother, how he could change the conversation to make her say such things, how he was able to do this for everyone he had ever seduced in the Commission, even the men…

  He pulled her out of the chair and continued to kiss her as her hands wrapped in his hair. After a few long kisses, when she had her body pressed flush to his, her hands drifted down his torso, unbuttoning the vest and pulling the shirt out from the waistband of his pants. He chuckled into the kiss and caught her hands, shaking his head.

  “Oh no…”

  “What?” she asked with a chuckle. He recaptured her mouth in his, pulling at his tie, releasing it from
his neck, wrapping her wrists in his tie, smiling wickedly as she giggled.

  “In this game, there are rules,” he grinned.

  When her wrists were wrapped, he turned them both, lifting her to sit on the desk, his hands stealing up her thighs and into the short skirt of her dress as they kissed again, the action hungry and desperate.

  It was when my mother hooked her legs around Dana’s hips and her bound hands rested behind his neck that I closed the door, feeling the tears spring to my eyes.

  I scrambled to my feet, knowing I had to get out of the hallway so that no one randomly passing would see my breakdown. I darted to the conference room, pushing past Mark and quickly sitting, burying my head in my arms as the tears overcame me, pouring out of my eyes as the sobs thudded from my lungs.

  I don’t know how long I was crying, though it could not have been long before there was a voice at the door.

  “Oh, Lily…”

  I looked up, blinking the tears from my eyes enough to see Clark moving toward me. What shocked me was that Mark was standing at the corner of the table, having stopped from walking to me.

  Clark sat in the chair next to mine and pulled me into a hug. I broke down violently.

  * *** *

  That night, I finally got the courage to lift my mattress and look through the file of experiment four-eleven forty-one—my uncle’s file.

  I had a nasty headache from all the crying. I had gone to my room right after dinner, taken two aspirin and slept for an hour before waking again. I felt better, but the headache was still very present. So, I went to Mykail’s room and told him through the bars of his door that I was not going to his room that night because I wanted to get rid of the headache. He told me he understood, gave me a quick kiss, and wished me goodnight.

  But I had been unable to fall asleep again.

  Finally, I climbed out of bed, grabbed the file I had stolen from Dana’s table, and sat on my floor, staring at the red stamp across the front for a few minutes before finally opening the folder again and beginning to read.

  Subject #41141

  Testing Start: October 8

  Presiding: Dr. Sam Pullman

  *The Commission of the People maintains the right to bring in all individuals who threaten the peace and security of the nation of America. Individuals who are residing illegally or harboring individuals who are in violation of the laws set by the Cabinet of the Leader will be brought into the Commission of the People. (The Code of the Commission of the People: 13-9, 20**).

  Accounts for Charge:

  -Harboring Illegal Residents

  -Harboring Individuals Deemed Dangerous

  -Assisting Criminals

  -Anarchist Activities

  -Risking the Safety and Security of the Nation of America

  -Sedition

  Name: William Kale Sandover

  Height: 194 cm

  Weight: 74.2 kg

  Hair Color: Brown

  Eye Color: Brown

  Race: Caucasian

  Blood Type: AB-

  The first three pages of the file were extensive medical and physical notes about my uncle, detailing every possible thing that could be thought of, so I skipped through, stopping on the forth page.

  Call-in Capture – August 2, 20:00

  Team Leader: Fred Bosworth

  “The Commission of the People was called by the father of the suspect on the evening of July twenty-third. Upon further investigation, all allegations were found to be true. W. Sandover had been harboring illegal residents, homosexuals, and other dangerous individuals across the southern border. Evidence provided proved that the suspect had been the head of ‘The Coalition’ terrorist group. W. Sandover had been avoiding capture by the Commission for three years and his location was unknown at the time of the call-in.

  “An anonymous tip led us to his location at the town of Prete at the southern border, where W. Sandover and seven other individuals of ‘The Coalition’ were found in a house, as well as seventeen Commission-marked criminals. Three of the individuals escaped the house, and W. Sandover was captured trying to hop the back fence of the property. The seven other individuals of ‘The Coalition’ included Peter B. West, Katherine K. Laughton, Stacy J. Venner, Loraine A. Rhyne, Brian T. Copperton, Jeffery M. Little, and Gregory T. Smithson. Laughton is pregnant with Sandover’s child. Her fate has yet to be decided.”

  My heart tugged when I read the last part of the report. Even from the short recollection, I had so many complex emotions that I did not know what to feel. My uncle had been so against the Commission that he had formed “The Coalition” to harbor people over the border and get them out of the Commission’s grasp. I felt oddly proud, knowing he would approve of my rebellion against the Commission now.

  However, the girl had been pregnant when she had been taken in by the Commission. Even without looking at the rest of the report I knew that that situation was going to end horribly.

  I flipped the page.

  Experiment Log: Day 1 – Dr. Sam Pullman

  “41141 went through pre-test cleaning with no complications. For the living situation in which the subject was picked up, his health is astounding. The first test was administered with an unexpected response. S.I.D.-3 was administered at 16:17 and by 16:23, the subject was showing signs of intense pain and remained in such state for three hours before showing any signs of muscle relaxation.

  “The test appeared to have failed. There were no changes in chemical or neurological reactions. The subsequent seven tests will be performed as scheduled, regardless.”

  Experiment Log: Day 9 – Dr. Sam Pullman

  “Experiment 41141 has shown no change as a result of Test S.I.D.-3. The subject has shown the same reaction to all seven tests, which resulted in muscle tension and pain for approximately three hours followed by a coma-like state. Upon waking, the subject appeared no different than before.

  “Reports will be submitted to Mr. Bryant Morris before proceeding.”

  I flipped through the following seven tests and, regardless of the tests they did on my uncle, nothing changed. His health deteriorated slightly and he got weaker, but he still remained completely human. I did not understand the tables under each entry, but by the confused commentary of the doctors, I could tell that they were completely baffled.

  There were notes in the margins about the experiment’s outspoken attitude and how he continued to yell at the scientists and curse them until they had no choice but to gag him because he was too boisterous—even violent sometimes despite his failing health.

  The accounts made me proud. Knowing I was from the same strong line that continued to fight the clutches of the Commission of the People was a relief. If I failed in my rebellion, at least I could continue to fight, because I had the same strength in me. Maybe I could even be immune to any tests Dana tried, and I could become the next legend among the experiments.

  However, I remembered several other things about this experiment. He was the one who had killed Bryant Morris, only to give rise to Dana. He tried to defy the Commission, but still was killed, and now most experiments didn’t believe he had ever existed.

  I closed the folder, wondering if I really wanted to know the full story behind what happened to my uncle, and wondering if it would mean anything for my own future.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I was going into the records room for the first time that Wednesday. Clark and I spent a lot of time figuring out how to do the research while keeping Dana in the dark. Since the leader of the Commission had a habit of popping in on us unannounced, it was not safe for both of us to be in the records room at the same time. However, we would research faster together, thus limiting the frequency of going into the records room.

  We went to Dana’s upstairs office to look at his schedule.

  He would return to the Commission at five from a meeting with Leader Simon, which meant we had two hours to research as much as we could together.

  “Friday he’s gone the
whole day,” Clark noticed. “He’ll be with Leader Simon again.” He pointed at the various meetings on Dana’s schedule. “We can’t risk both being in there tomorrow. What do you want to do?”

  “I want to see what we can find today and then decide about Friday later,” I said.

  Mark stationed himself outside the library as we set our things down at one of the tables. Clark went one way while I made my way to the secret door, carefully turning the one handle we had latched and shifting the bookshelf back, slipping inside and closing the passageway behind me. Clark was going to wander around to throw off anyone who was watching the security cameras and bring books to the table so that we could look busy when we finally did appear on the camera feeds again.

  I nervously stepped down the dim hallway and opened the door at the end, pushing hard to move the filing cabinet attached to the secret door. I poked my head into the unfamiliar room, looking around. The room was plain, yet crowded. There were shelves around the room, each on top of three filing drawers with numbers written on the front panel. The upper shelves were crammed with binders marked with months and years.

  Carefully stepping into the surprisingly cold room and pushing the file cabinet back into place, I tried to think clearly. I didn’t want to sneak in too often, but in order to be sure that we did not have to do so, I had to remember exactly what I needed to do there, accomplish my task, and leave quickly.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, counting to five before exhaling. I started forward, remembering the first experiments number.

  80111.

  It took me too long to find the drawer that held the file for the first experiment. After rounding the same row of shelves twice, trying to understand how the numbers were increasing and trying to find the drawer that would hold the file I wanted, getting very frustrated when I rounded the corner and the drawer was not the correct one, I finally turned to the next aisle, finding what I wanted.