Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  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 creating 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.

  The halting of the float was the cue.

  From the weak paper depiction of the former White House on the float, which was meant to burn during the dedication of the parade, a figure burst out, launching high into the air, holding a bright red flag while another banner was tied to his waist and shoulders.

  “Mykail Devenchy: Level 8 Weapon of the Commission of the People.”

  He flew high into the air, his powerful wings pushing him higher into the overcast sky so he could circle the area and allow everyone to get a good look at him. My heart was in my throat.

  Right on cue, Becca screamed, pointing at Mykail. That was the sound that caused panic. As soon as Becca made Mykail something that warranted screaming, the police officers removed their guns and took aim at Mykail. One shot rang loudly and mass panic ensued.

  Commish Kids at their barriers pushed forward, knocking the guards off-balance and collapsing the barrier, causing panicked people to flood into the streets. I fell forward with the force of everyone hurriedly trying to flee. Several people yelled to “seize them” though I was not sure who was trying to capture whom. I ran into the street, glancing up to see Mykail unharmed and circling. The experiments began with their other duty, throwing smoke bombs in the street to add to the confusion and help us escape. No more shots were fired in the chaos of people scattering, some trying to grab at the experiments, who were ditching their signs and slipping into the crowd, acting as frightened and surprised as the spectators. Others were trying to get away from the weapons, causing more panic when they would briefly catch sight of one among the crowd and run the other direction, creating a chaotic situation in the street.

  Following the scattering groups, I went in the direction I was supposed to.

  I was disoriented and worried about Mykail, who was swooping lower to keep the crowd riled up and frightened. He was buying us time, keeping the confusion strong as we fled. I ran in the direction of the park, where people were darting to their parked cars, dragging their children with them. After the parking lot, the panicking crowd thinned and I ran with a few other familiar faces to the parking garage of a law firm. Slipping through the thick wires of the barrier between the levels, I fell heavily into the basement level and ran toward the mechanical room after the others, leaping in and closing the door just as I heard the clank of metal.

  “Come on!” Cody hissed, grabbing my hand. I followed his lead, crouching to feel the edge of the opening, putting my feet in first and finding the bottom of the narrow passage. I lowered myself to crawl on my elbows through the small duct toward the faint light reflected off the damp wall. Trying to keep myself from bumping my head on the pipes on the side of the tiny passageway, I turned the corner, shimmying myself into the narrow space and clamoring toward the open grate. I carefully extracted myself from the duct, using my upper body strength to guide my feet to the wet cement ground in the other small passage where more wires had been piped to heat the parking garage. I saw Hope in front of me, her back pressed against the smooth wall as she approached the maintenance door. I heard Jenny and Park arguing about someone stepping on someone’s foot as Cody replaced the grate behind us.

  Hope opened the door and peered out before running the short distance across the alley to the open drain pipe cover, quickly dropping to her belly and sliding into the dark tunnels below the street.

  After checking to be sure that no one was looking, I also darted the same short distance, reaching my hands out for what I knew would be there.

  Two hands wrapped around my wrists and guided me down, carefully setting me on my feet. After I caught my balance, I saw Josh smiling at me brightly as he reached up to help Jenny. Smiling myself, I felt Hope jump on me, squeezing me tightly.

  “It was fucking perfect!” she hissed, her voice squealing as she jumped.

  “Okay, but we’ll celebrate when we get back to the fort,” I said, motioning her quiet as Jenny joined us, also smiling. She gave me a high-five, as did Park. Cody was the last one into the drain pipe. When we were below the street, Josh grabbed the grate and recovered the square hole, locking the metal back into place.

  Too excited and adrenaline-filled to do otherwise, we began running to the fort. As we g
ot further under the streets and to the point where we could move a little more freely in the large storm drains, we began whooping as quietly as we could manage.

  We met up with three other groups that were taking the same pipe back to the fort. They were just as excited. I was nervous about Mykail. He was the one in the most danger. He was easy to spot and very difficult to hide. Mark had been in charge of recovering him safely, and while I trusted Mark, I could not stop worrying.

  But the high energy of everyone else caused me to feel elated and drunk off the experience. I was dizzy, thrilled that we had pulled everything off.

  We part-ran, part-walked, part-celebrated our way to the fort, bursting through the door and running into the main bunker to join the other successful groups who were whooping and cheering.

  I was surrounded by people cheering and clapping me on the back, yelling “we did it!” from all directions. I laughed and joined in the cheering, jumping around and hugging people tightly, celebrating our first strike loudly.

  More groups continued to file in, joining the thunderous celebration. The humans who had not been involved were told everything, though no one was able to tell the story sequentially, too excited.

  The Eight Group members, who had helped by assisting in the getaways, were just as excited as everyone else. I laughed as they jumped on one another like teenagers celebrating a win at a football game, cheering.

  When I saw the boy with wings enter the main bunker, I ran forward and threw my arms around him, kissing him deeply, thrilled he was safe and eager to celebrate our victory with him. He lifted me off my feet, returning my kiss enthusiastically, spinning until we both were stumbling to reclaim our balance.

  I stroked his face, looking into his bright blue eyes, feeling the room fade, leaving only us in existence on the whole planet.

  “Thank you…” I breathed.

  He took my hands in his and kissed my fingertips.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  Reality came crashing back when the humans and experiments began gawking and leering at us. I laughed and shook my head, feeling embarrassed as I confronted their smiling faces, seeing that most people in the bunker had turned to us.

  “Oh, shut up…” I teased back.

  “Is everyone back?” Tori called.

  Josh counted all the people responsible for bringing their parties back safely and nodded.

  “Everyone’s here!”

  Another booming cheer resonated through the domed roof of the bunker.

  Ichiro began clapping slower, yelling out something in his native tongue that Josh quickly seconded. Both of them clapping, they began singing a cheer no one else knew. Minsoo, Hiroki, and Keiko started clapping, singing the happy chant, even sharing a primitive dance. Mark’s younger sister also joined in the revelry. I laughed at the display and while no one else knew the dance or chant, they began clapping, turning to watch the experiments continue their revelry. Mark, smiling broadly, added more volume to the clapping.

  The others singing went quiet and Josh began chanting a few lines, dancing around happily in a silly manner that had us all laughing and cheering with him. Minsoo also said a few lines when Josh went quiet, picking up the obviously well-known chant.

  Everyone who was singing turned to Mark, pointing at him, continuing to clap.

  I looked at Mark, realizing that this would have been his part in their tribal celebration dance. His smile turned sad and ashamed as he dropped his head.

  Josh smiled broadly, running over and grabbing Mark, yanking him into their circle and standing behind him, taking his wrists and moving his hands as he dropped his voice deeper, imitating Mark’s part.

  Mark was smiling so much his eyes were closed and he doubled over, embarrassed, but also extremely happy. The others of the Eight Group played along and pretended it was really Mark singing and dancing his part, even while Josh made a show of dancing goofily while trying to be puppeteer to the embarrassed Mark.

  It was a sad realization for me that the only thing I knew about Mark’s voice was that it was deep, thanks to Josh’s imitation.

  After releasing Mark, Josh got everyone to begin singing and dancing to the clapping, though they did not know the words. It was an expression of celebration for our victory, our successful attempt at declaring war against the Commission of the People.

  Even though it should have seemed inappropriate, considering the gravity of the situation, the dancing and singing seemed to be the best thing to do. So, I joined in.

  * *** *

  I wanted to stay longer, but I knew that I had very little time before it would be obvious that I was missing completely. My parents would be worried about the parade incident, which I was sure they saw on television, so I needed to get back as soon as possible.

  The most difficult part about it was saying goodbye to Mykail.

  Now that he was exposed, there was no way for him to come home. He would have to remain in the bunker.

  Mark drove me home, but dropped Clark off first, which was part of our plan. It was supposed to look like Mark had found Clark and then gone back to look for me. So, Mark drove close to downtown to lend as much credibility to our story as he could.

  When we got to my house, I prepared myself to act.

  I got out of the car after nodding to Mark and ran to the door, quickly unlocking it as Mark got out of the car and followed me at a much slower pace.

  “Mom! Dad!” I called loudly as I stumbled in the house, breathing hard and looking frantically around.

  “Lily!”

  My mother darted into the foyer, her arms opening to hug me. I hugged her back, but quickly pulled away.

  “Did you see it?!”

  “We did, are you alright?” my mother gasped, looking me over worriedly.

  “I’m fine,” I assured frantically. “What—”

  I stopped as I was hugged by my father.

  “Who got your phone? We called and someone else answered…”

  “Thankfully, it was one of my school mates. I have it now,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket to show them, trying not to smile as I recalled Ben talking to my parents briefly about finding the phone on the ground. “But, enough about that! We have a problem!”

  “We most certainly do,” another voice murmured in the archway to the kitchen. I turned to see Dana leaning against the arch.

  “Dana…” I breathed, genuinely surprised to see him there so fast.

  “We were worried about you, Little Lily,” Dana said. The tone of his voice made me shiver. It was cold, airy, almost otherworldly as his eyes looked me over. After a few moments of intense eye lock, Dana looked at Mark, who was standing in the still-open front door, his eyes covered with his glasses and his hands folded in front of him.

  “Mark, come out of the cold,” my mother said, quickly motioning him inside. He stepped nervously forward and closed the door behind him. My mother moved to him. “Thank you for finding my little girl. I really appreciate it. I was so worried.”

  As my father rubbed my shoulder, comforting me, my mother stared at Mark, who seemed confused.

  Damn, what an actor… was the only thing I could think.

  “Be simpler with him, Karen,” Dana advised, finally standing straight and walking toward Mark. “He’s probably the only one in the Eight Group I ever praise, so he knows a few of those words. Good job, Mark,” he said to him, clearly enunciating.

  Mark turned to Dana and bowed fully at the waist, remaining in the position for a few seconds before straightening, though his head remained down, his hands in front of him politely.

  Dana smiled.

  “They amuse me so much,” he chuckled. “Sean.”

  I was thrilled to see Sean step into the large dining room where we were standing. He walked to Dana, who jerked his thumb to Mark. “Tell him he did a good job. He’s been working hard lately.”

  Sean stepped over to Mark and placed a hand on his sho
ulder, causing the experiment to look up quickly. Sean smiled and patted him twice on the shoulder.

  “You did a good job,” he told him. “Thank you.”

  Mark turned to him fully and bowed deeply again.

  “Dana, we should give him tomorrow to rest,” Sean suggested. “He may not need eight hours a night, but we’ve really been running him ragged.”

  “He’s one of the best, we have to keep him around as often as possible,” Dana said. He exchanged glances with Sean and then sighed. “Not tomorrow, it’s a meeting day. He can have Sunday off.”

  Sean turned back to Mark, who was waiting for order.

  “Sunday,” Sean said strongly. He lifted his arms to cross them in an X. “You rest.”

  Mark opened his mouth slightly, feigning shock, and looked briefly between Dana and Sean, as though not sure of the order.

  “Rest on Sunday. Stay home,” Sean said.

  Mark turned to Sean and then bowed again. As I thought about Mark resting, I was beginning to wonder if he got tired in the same way humans did. While I knew he had been busy helping me plan for the parade, I did not know what he did during the day while Clark and I were at school. I knew that Dana sometimes called him back to work as Commission security, but I did not know how often he was working for Dana as opposed to watching Clark and me like a bodyguard. I was suddenly very worried that he did need rest and I had been blind to his exhaustion.

  “Go home, now,” Sean nodded.

  Bowing once again, Mark left.

  “He seems to be quite the asset,” my mother noted. “He’s pretty attached to Lily.”

  “He’s faithful, that’s what matters,” Dana said with a shrug. “I will admit, it was one of the hardest things for me to give him to the Markus family. But they are my advisors, and they need protection. I was also worried that if I kept him around the Commission with no one owning his contract, someone would steal him.” Dana turned back to the kitchen. “Come on, we have more important things to discuss than the chink.”

  I glanced briefly at my father, who squeezed me in a sideways hug and guided me into the kitchen. Sean followed us. I saw Dana sitting at the head of the table, waiting for us to take a seat. It felt extremely invasive and unsettling to see Dana sitting in my father’s seat, but I had to keep calm and keep my wits about me, about to spend the rest of the afternoon lying to Dana Christianson’s face.