Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  There was a whistle deeper in the woods and we assumed our positions.

  With twenty cases from that fort, it took longer to get all the crates into the van. When they were all laid out in the back, I told Becca she had to ride in the back with them over the ditch to be sure that they remained stable. I turned to Jake before he left.

  “Jake, how fast can you run?”

  “Pretty fast, why?”

  “Can you stay with a few others and make sure we make it through the ditch?” I laughed.

  Jake called a few others back and I climbed into the car, putting it in reverse as Jake came up next to me.

  “Just go slow and get the back in the ditch, but try and give it enough power there to get up the other side.”

  Doing as he said, I told Becca to hold on and started the venture of getting back through the ditch. Thankfully, the weather was still cold and the ground was still frozen, meaning that the now-heavier van did not sink when it went into the ditch. However, I did have to have help pushing the van over the other side of the ditch. I scraped the nose, but continued to rev the engine and made it back on the road. I waved at the men and women who had helped, who darted away as Becca climbed out of the back and resumed her map reading.

  “You know, domestic terrorism is way more fun than it should be,” she teased. “It’s too exciting.”

  I had to agree.

  We had no trouble finding the secluded parking lot for our next location. We went as far into the back as we could and passed the time rearranging crates to be sure that we had enough room for the goods of the final raid.

  It was nearing three-thirty when the others made their way to the parking lot.

  “Last place,” I said. “Thankfully, this went a lot better than last time.”

  “What happened last time?” Becca asked.

  “The tent collapsed and caught on fire while I was still in it,” I recounted, watching the train of people for movement of the crates, though I could feel Becca’s surprised eyes on me.

  “Wow…and I thought Archangel was exciting…you really are a badass, now.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed sarcastically. “Total badass…”

  The passing of the crates went quickly, everyone feeling the energy that came with success. This was the first plan that had involved so many people of our revolution and everyone was pleased to have a part. It gave them something to do besides sit around the bunker and wait for news.

  Loading the final crate into the car worried me when there was absolutely no more room.

  “I’ll carry it on my lap, it’s okay,” Becca assured when I cursed at the sight.

  After she buckled in, I placed the crate on her legs.

  Once we got out of the parking lot and on the road, Becca squealed, pumping her fists into the air.

  “This is incredible!”

  I laughed and started to feel the sense of accomplishment wash over me. I ended up speeding toward the park to unload the car, not caring about my speed. Nothing could touch us.

  Thankfully, there were no police on the back roads.

  Talking excitedly among themselves, the whole group moved to unload the van, going through the same process, racing against the approaching daybreak.

  Becca and I remained where we were, watching the crates move from their spot in the clearing into the trees as people collected boxes one at a time. Clark sat with us, grinning from ear to ear.

  “We did it,” he hissed. “Thank you, Becca.”

  “I just hope it will be enough…” she murmured.

  “It’s more than we had,” I said, hugging her. “Seriously, thank you for your help. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You’re going to make me cry,” she teased, fanning her face. She put an arm around the both of us. “You have to tell me when you’re doing more things like this,” she hissed. “This was amazing. I have never felt so accomplished in my life!”

  We agreed to keep her informed. I was sure that after that night’s success she won a little bit of Mark’s trust and, therefore, would be able to participate more as our outside informer.

  We only had to wait ten minutes before Mark appeared, Josh and Rin at his side.

  Both Rin and Josh hugged everyone, thrilled at our success while Mark smiled, waiting for everyone to calm down before tapping his wrist, reminding us of the time.

  “We’ll take you home now, Becca,” Rin said.

  “I’m driving!” Josh declared, running to the driver’s door and climbing in. Mark motioned for Rin to take the front seat and sat on the floor of the van with Becca and me. Becca was grinning broadly.

  “I really want to thank you for letting me be a part of this,” she said. “It feels really good to do something good for people.”

  “Good for people, but bad for the government,” I clarified with a chuckle.

  “I told you when we first met, I didn’t like the government anyway.”

  Rin and Josh thanked her for her help and Mark offered his hand for a handshake. She stared at it before looking at me, a question in her eyes.

  “He doesn’t like hugs,” I chuckled, throwing a teasing glare at Mark.

  She shook his hand, respecting his space.

  We dropped her off just as the sky was beginning to brighten. I apologized for making her so tired for school, but she assured me it was no concern and skipped happily into her house.

  Josh drove out of the neighborhood as I turned to Mark.

  “Is she trustworthy?” I asked seriously, wanting to know his honest opinion.

  He hesitated before nodding slowly, relenting that, for the moment, he trusted her.

  * *** *

  Our revelry in the success of the raids did not last long. We had stolen quite a few goods, but only some of the bullets were useful to us, and the medical supplies were almost exactly the same as we had been able to salvage from the medical room. Peter and his team had made it their goal to clean up the medical room, though they were moving relatively slow, being careful not to break anything that could still work.

  The one small triumph we did have was with food. While it was clear that we had gotten quite a number of rations, when we divided the food among everyone with two meals a day, we had enough for one month, even when the experiments only had one meal.

  As a result, we decided to keep the policy of going out in small teams to find food and keep the strain on our resources limited.

  It did not ease my worry. I was still concerned and a little on edge, wondering where else we could possibly get food, knowing that we could not pull the same trick again.

  Friday morning, Tori called me into the communication room with a serious face. Worried that something had gone wrong, I quickly followed. She closed the door behind me, and pointed to the television screens, where Clark, Griffin, and Mark were focused.

  “…the accident occurred around ten last night, when a man, clearly intoxicated, crashed into another car and then proceeded to get out of the vehicle and scream at the other driver. He proclaimed that he was a member of the Central Angels and that the other driver could not press charges because he would shoot the man,” the anchor explained. The video changed to that of a man yelling violently, leaning over the mangled hood of the other car and waving a bottle around.

  “This is footage taken by one of the many bystanders who saw the horrible scene with the Molotov cocktail play out.”

  My heart was in my throat. The man was yelling at the crowd, most of his slurred speech edited of profanities, though it was clear what he was saying.

  “I’m a fucking revolutionary! We just attacked five other fucking camps! No one can touch me! Come on, you cock suckers!” he grabbed his shirt and clumsily pulled it over his head, spilling some of the bottle and cursing colorfully as he tried to gain his bearings, stumbling. He shoved his shirt into the neck of the bottle and waved it around.

  “What do you think?! You think you can get me?! Just you try, motherfuckers! You go again
st the Central Angels and we’ll fuck you up! You’re all nothing but a bunch of pussies, kissing the asses of Central! We’re the future!”

  He pulled out a lighter, going to the driver’s door of the other vehicle, waving the tail of the shirt around as the flames slowly ate at the fabric. The driver ran as the drunken man cackled loudly.

  The crowd fled, though there was a sound of an explosion before the clip stopped and the anchor reappeared on the screen.

  “The man was arrested and will face charges later today,” he concluded. “We will keep you updated as more information is presented to us.”

  I was livid.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I don’t know what to make of this,” Griffin admitted. “So far…they have not released information that we broke into the camps.”

  I sighed heavily.

  “Can you look up his name in the police computers?” I asked.

  “I can look into the military computers,” he told me. “There might be something there.”

  “Please do,” I said. I turned, walking to the main bunker.

  “Lily, where are you going?” Tori asked.

  “I’m going to have a talk with everyone.”

  I walked into the bunker and raised my voice over the people finishing their breakfast.

  “Excuse me, everyone,” I called. The noise disappeared and everyone turned. “Can we get everyone in here? There is something I want to say before we start today.”

  It took three minutes to get everyone out of the various rooms and in the main bunker. Tori walked up next to me, as did Mark, both of them wearing worried expressions.

  When everyone was seated, I took a deep breath.

  “I know that, right now, things seem like they’re going well, but that does not mean that we can get careless,” I told them sharply. “We still need to be very, very careful. So, from now on, the groups going out for food are only allowed three-hour time blocks, and they are to be back by five. There will be no exceptions.”

  Confused and worried murmuring broke out and objections were raised about the ability to collect food in the daylight when they had had most success at night.

  “I know it sounds extreme, but I will not have anyone making a scene right now. We managed to break into five camps, but that does not mean we have won. For now, this is the rule. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Tori, Mark,” one of the women said. “You can’t be okay with this. We won’t be able to do anything in three hours in the daylight.”

  “With the way things are lately, this is the most logical move we can make to keep everyone safe,” Tori agreed. “We will find a way to manage.”

  I went to the communications room, leaving the stunned members of the revolution as they began murmuring among themselves.

  “That is a bold move, Lily,” Tori whispered. “They’re going to start getting scared.”

  “I don’t mind,” I shook my head, opening the door, causing Clark and Griffin to turn. “I’d rather they be scared than make a stupid mistake like what happened last night.”

  “There’s no record of his name on the computer,” Griffin said. “But we managed to get a still of his face. It’s a little blurry, but I don’t think he’s one of ours.” He pointed to the screen on the desk.

  “He’s not one of ours…” Tori whispered.

  With his knowledge of what happened at the camps that meant only one thing. The drunken man was one of Dana’s, sent out to make a scene.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  I had to take several deep breaths before I walked into the room that I had been avoiding once again. This time, Josh and Mark came with me, which startled Mykail greatly.

  “If we remove some of your chains, will you try to run?” I asked seriously.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I have nowhere to go.”

  After a few moments of staring to determine if he was telling the truth, I nodded to the other two experiments, who removed the chains around Mykail’s ankles and loosened the ones around his wings to allow him more mobility. He let out a relieved sigh and cringed as he stretched as much as he was able.

  When we had loosened the restraints as much as agreed, I nodded once more to Josh and Mark, who left the room.

  Mykail watched and turned back to me when the door clicked shut. I sat on the floor, looking him over.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m glad you came to see me, though.”

  “Please,” I whispered, shaking my head. “This is already painful for me…”

  “Me, too,” he agreed. “I know that I can never take back the pain I’ve put you through…but I still wish there was some way that I could help you take down Dana. He’s a dangerous enemy.”

  “I know,” I said. “He’s infiltrated us, and then he sent some of his men out to make us look like we’re violent anarchists…”

  He bowed his head at the words and I sighed heavily.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m angry and worried. Not to mention you kind of deserve that.”

  “I know.” He looked up at me curiously. “Why did you come in here?”

  I leaned forward.

  “If I managed to get Mark to give you a second chance, would you be willing to try and win back our trust?”

  His eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he spoke.

  “Yes,” he said strongly. “I know you don’t trust me, but…I swear to you that I will not betray the revolution.”

  “I trust a little too easily,” I murmured. “It’s Mark you will have to convince. I will see if I can find a way to give you a second chance.”

  “Thank you, Lily,” he murmured, looking me in the eye, trying to sound as sincere as possible. I nodded, studying him to be sure he had no injuries. I did not want him treated roughly, and I had made that clear to the members of the Eight Group guarding the door. No one was allowed in to hurt Mykail.

  Satisfied that he had no new wounds, I asked him a question before I could stop myself.

  “Is there anything I can do to make this more comfortable for you?” I whispered. As soon as the words left my mouth, I tried to catch myself. “I mean, is there anything I can get you? A pillow maybe?”

  His shocked expression softened.

  “No, thank you, Lily.”

  We sat in awkward silence. Finally unable to handle the strained, quiet air, I stood and brushed off my pant leg absentmindedly.

  “I will talk to Mark.”

  “Thank you, Lily,” he repeated, his head bowed.

  I walked out the door, where Mark and Josh were waiting. I turned to Yi Ling, who was standing guard outside the store room.

  “Can you get him a pillow to sit on?” I requested. She left as I turned my attention to Josh and Mark.

  “What did he say?” Josh asked.

  “He said he would be willing to work with us and try to gain back our trust,” I said, walking out of the hallway and into the strategy room where Griffin, Tori, and Clark were waiting.

  “Well?” Tori pressed as I closed the door. Telling them what Mykail had said, they fell into pensive silence. We had decided that we needed to protest again, and show ourselves to dispel the negative air that had surrounded our cause, thanks to Dana’s scheme. However, we knew that if we appeared without Mykail, we would not have the same impact. He was our symbol, and we needed him now more than ever.

  “We have no parades to crash this month,” Clark muttered.

  “Then we make one,” I shrugged. “We’ll just show up on Main Street and protest. If we agree to let Mykail come with us, then we’ll let him fly above us as he normally does. We’ll make one march down the street and then scatter.”

  “We’re going to have to call attention to the fact that the man was not part of us,” Griffin said. “We’re going to have to find a way to show that he was a set up from the Commission.”

  “I just hope they’ll believe us,” Clark sighed
. “The online response to what happened has been clearly against us.”

  We discussed which day to protest, knowing it had to be soon due to our dwindling supplies and worried revolutionaries.

  The second food donation by the Carolina Media Group was much less than the first. The public had been wary of supporting the revolution after the incident with the drunk man that had sent three people to the hospital. The media company said that they were unable to risk giving us further support.

  Sunday morning, I asked Mark to take me to the shooting range and let me practice. Even though I was still having nightmares about the shadow falling in the first camp, followed by dreams of Dana and I having our shooting contest, I wanted to handle a gun again, sure that if I mastered it, I would not be so frightened.

  Mark made sure it was just the two of us in the shooting range as I pulled my gun out of the holster. When we had gone to the first camp, Mark had given me one of the guns he had bought off the black market and said it was mine, but I had only used it twice. Once when I first got it to test it in the shooting range and the other time when I killed the man in the camp.

  Now knowing the rules of practice, I took the weapon out of the holster, removed the empty clip, opened the chamber, and showed Mark that the gun was empty before setting it on the table and backing away two steps.

  Mark walked down the range and tied one of the water jugs to each rope at the end of the room.

  When he came back to where I stood I had grabbed two sets of headphones and handed one to him.

  I picked up the clip and loaded it with the bullets on the table, then put the clip back in the gun, taking a deep breath and taking my stance, aiming at the first jug. I took a deep breath and gently squeezed the trigger as I exhaled.

  A shot fired down the room and landed just below the first target. Aiming again and trying not to shake, I fired, hitting the target. I moved on to the next one, taking my stance, though Mark put his hand on my belly and pushed on my shoulders, reminding me to lean forward.