Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  The scientists shared another round of laughter before Tamara turned on the needle for the tattoo. There was a buzz from the little machine and I flinched at the sound, my heart thumping in fear.

  “Hey, you. Just so you know, we’re starting,” Tamara called to me. “Don’t struggle too much because you’re only going to hurt yourself in the process.”

  Her fingers pressed into my foot, pushing the skin taught as the needle found its way to my skin. I let out a choked scream, my anxiety causing me to feel the hot pain more acutely. It was sharp, a small point that touched my skin with a hot, vibrating motion.

  “Do you have a tattoo, Tamara?”

  “Yeah. Just a little snake on the back of my neck.”

  “I was always curious about tattoos,” Corbett said. “I had a lot of friends who went into the military and came back with all kinds of ink.”

  “What would you get if you got a tattoo?” Jeanie asked.

  It was amazing that I could focus on their conversation while there was the hot, vibrating feeling against my foot, disappearing every now and then only to return all too soon.

  “I don’t know,” Corbett mused. “Maybe something simple…I can’t think of any reason I would want to be on the table for hours and hours.”

  “I know what I would get,” Jeanie said. “I would get paw prints across my shoulder and collarbone…”

  “Why?” Tamara laughed.

  “That’s where my cat always walks on me to get me up in the morning.”

  Cat? Did they have animals down here? I was pretty sure that the scientists lived in the Commission. And did Barry and George say they had kids? I don’t remember any of the Commish Kids being the children of the scientists…

  As the tattoo continued, I calmed down, becoming more accustomed to the strange, hot feeling that dragged over my skin, a cloth occasionally passing over the area before starting again with more ink. The conversations of tattoos continued with stories of friend’s tattoos and their own thoughts on their children getting tattoos or what they would want on themselves.

  I had never wanted a tattoo.

  When the needle was turned off, Tamara wiped the area again and then cleaned it before wrapping something over the bottom of my foot and then slipping a soft boot over my foot as the other scientists released me from the vice.

  “Okay, 88911,” George addressed me, coming back into my line of sight. “We’re going to take you to your cell. We will see you back here tomorrow.” He grinned as though it was an appointment I could look forward to.

  I was led out of the lab in cuffs fastened to my wrists, a long chain running from the cuff around my neck to the cuffs on my wrists, and finally to the two cuffs around my ankles. I cringed every time I stepped on my right foot, feeling the hot pain on the bottom where the fresh tattoo was.

  I wondered where my tears were as I was led through Ward Seven. The tears had not come at all since my breakdown when I failed to shoot Dana. My emotions were in recovery time and the response to any emotional stress now was to simply slip into an alternate state of mind similar to unconsciousness.

  I shuffled into the room connecting Wards Eight, Nine, Ten, and the Dome, a place I had only been in once before, when it was littered with bodies of the men and women who had been killed during our great escape.

  Jeanie led me to the second door on the right wall, a door I knew from breaking out Tori. My heart fell into my stomach at the recollection of her smiling face.

  Punching in the new code, which I didn’t bother to memorize, Jeanie and three guards walked into the east section of Ward Ten, leading me silently. We turned down the first hallway, just as I had before, only this time, I could see the experiments in the cells. I kept my head down, glancing at them discreetly.

  They moved forward, eyes locked on me, following me to the furthest corner of their cells, their eyes raking over my body. It was even worse than I had imagined. I was fresh meat.

  We stopped at the dead end and turned to the right, walking the familiar path to the cell that Tori had once occupied.

  Something told me this was Dana’s idea.

  The guards punched in the code into the electronic lock and ran their keycard over the top, causing the door to slide open. I hesitated, looking around the white walls in fear, but Jeanie’s insistent hands pulled and the final push between my shoulder blades from one of the guards caused me to finally set foot in my new prison.

  As my chains were removed, I looked around the square space, seeing the toilet that had a small wall to barely conceal the area from the glass wall. There was a metal slot at the bottom right corner where I assumed food was given. Otherwise, there was nothing breaking the starkness of the cell.

  The cuffs were gathered and the entourage left.

  For several long moments, I could only stand in the middle of the cell and look around the plain, white walls and the hallway. There were two cells across from mine, one of them dark and empty and the other lit with a female experiment studying me. She only looked a few years older than me, with black hair and dark eyes. She was deathly thin and her skin was very pale and chalky, contrasting with the sharp red of her clothes.

  Feeling uncomfortable with the scrutiny, I walked to a corner and sat down, hugging my legs to my chest and setting my face on my knees, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, my brain buzzing with static that led to no thoughts at all.

  I must have fallen asleep for a few hours, despite the bright light of the cells, because the next thing I knew, there was a clank that startled me and a tray of food was pushed through the slot. I craned my neck from my position laying on the cold floor to see who was giving the food, but they walked away, rolling the cart with them.

  I turned onto my stomach and then rose to my hands and knees, crawling to the food, though I passed it and pressed my face to the glass to see who they were. There were three people dressed in white suits followed by an incredible amount of black-clad men in heavy gear, guns pointed forward as they walked closer to the cell Eyna was in.

  It only occurred to me then that I was in the same ward as the completed Machine of Neutralization.

  I quickly slinked to the other corner of the cell, pressing my face against the glass, barely able to see the cell they were stopping at.

  The guns were pointed at the door as one of the people in white crouched down, pushing the tray of food into the slot.

  The woman leapt away. I thought I saw a movement of red against the glass, but I did not have a good view of the cell and, therefore, could not see enough to determine what had happened.

  The group of people retreated down the hall. I shrunk away from the glass when they passed, feeling very small and fragile, despite the glass between us.

  When I saw the group round the corner, I went to my tray of food and picked up the paper bowl, pulling off the lid and sipping the soup, huddling in the corner near the tray, hungry, cold, and terrified.

  I finished my food, though it was horrible and I was still hungry afterward. I then paced along my cell, nervous and unsure what the scientists had in store for me.

  The lights never went out, never dimmed, there was no way of knowing what time of day it was, or what the weather was outside. I wanted a window. I wanted to see outside just to have a sense of time.

  The experiment across from me was watching me again. I shifted nervously, looking away from her unnerving stare. I was thankful that the other cell across from me was empty, otherwise I know I would have had a panic attack with two experiments staring me down through the window of my cage.

  I moved about the cell lazily, sitting down when my legs were tired, bored and unable to hear anything apart from the humming of the lights and the streams of air that blew in from the two slats in the roof of the cell. There was a camera placed at each corner that I would look up at and count each time the little red light flashed, losing count and starting over repeatedly.

  I fell asleep again and woke up not long after for n
o reason.

  I began pacing again.

  There was nothing to distract my thoughts. The pale, blank walls and glass offered no form of entertainment for my wandering mind, which made me think back on the revolution. I remembered the joy and thrill of having everyone out of the Commission…I remembered the tears as we went around in the circle and told our stories…I remembered the tender looks and touches of families and lovers as they rejoiced in their freedom…I remembered the laughter and the way we teased one another, like a family of over one hundred people…the silly moments when we were preparing for our battles and no one could hit the target…the funny songs and dances that passed cold nights…

  It didn’t seem real. Maybe they were only illusions. Maybe I had really been trapped in this cell, caught when I tried to break the experiments out, and ever since I had been imagining the glorious fight that we had all dreamed about.

  The walls were sucking away feelings and thoughts, playing them on every wall, the ceiling, the floor, reminding me of those times like a movie on repeat.

  But the tears still did not come.

  There were people outside my door that drew my attention. I watched Jeanie and Tamara walk into the cell, Tamara holding restraints. I remained seated, watching them approach as the three guards remained stationed at the door.

  “Stand up,” Tamara ordered.

  I was not sure if it was the bright lights of the cell, but I noticed then that Tamara was particularly unattractive. Jeanie was beautiful in her own way, but Tamara looked as though she had been through some rough times. Her skin was dark and creased with wrinkles, dotted by sun-made freckles. Her blue eyes were small on her face and her light brown hair sat in crinkled curls about her face while the rest of her straw-like hair was held behind her head in a clip. Her hands were knotted like a tree and her nails were painted a horrible red.

  I stood slowly and held my hands out as instructed.

  I did not move as they chained me up, but I was still reluctant to put weight on my right foot. The tattoo had stopped feeling hot, but it was itchy.

  I was led out of my cell, out of the ward, and to the lab I was familiar with, barely registering the sign “Lab Two.”

  I was startled to see one experiment sitting on a table, surrounded by another group of scientists dressed in their pristine white coats. The experiment was just swallowing some pills as I was led to my table. I looked him over, wondering what ward he was from and what he was being altered for.

  Jeanie ordered the guards away as Tamara released me. I dared to glance at the experiment again, who was now being cuffed by one of the scientists. A familiar scientist turned away from the other group and walked over.

  “Ah, the little terrorist again,” Barry smiled.

  “Her blood tests came back with some interesting results,” Jeanie started, looking over the file she had picked up from the cart where a case labeled S.I.D.-3 sat next to some syringes and needles. “I tried to find out what these mean,” she said, pointing to the something in her folder as Barry looked over the charts with her. “But nothing showed up.”

  I heard some clanging and whirled around to see the male experiment being led out of the room by George and Corbett.

  “Did you notify Dana?”

  “Yes. He said to go through with the first round and report exactly what happens.”

  There were anomalies in my blood.

  Just like in Dana’s blood.

  “Alright,” Barry said. He walked to me and grabbed the front of my shirt, unbuttoning it. I gasped and tried to back away, pushing him. My voice wouldn’t come out. It was stuck in my throat.

  “Hold her for me,” Barry growled. “Quit making a scene,” he snapped.

  Tamara grabbed my arms and held them steady as Barry finished with the buttons and then worked the shirt from my shoulders, which Tamara took and dropped to the ground as Barry pulled the pants from my hips.

  I started kicking, feeling my knee connect with his jaw.

  “Shit! Barry! Are you alright?!” Jeanie gasped, running toward the other scientist. I felt myself smiling.

  Barry looked at me and I glared back.

  Before I could register his movement, his hand struck me across the cheek, causing my face to explode with pain.

  “You little bitch,” he snapped. “Quit struggling, or I will have to teach you what happens when you disobey.”

  I spit in his face.

  “That’s it.” Barry grabbed my shoulders, turning me around, my arms ripping free of Tamara’s grip. He bent me over the table, slamming my head into the metal and stunning me as I tried to scream. My voice was still trapped.

  Barry held my hands behind my back as he yanked the pants off my ankles and then his hand came in sharp contact with my skin as he spanked me with a dark laugh.

  “Trust me, next time I will actually rape you.”

  “We never checked her for tearing or bruising,” Tamara noted, as though there was nothing unusual about the rape threat. “Let’s do that now while we’re waiting for George and Corbett.”

  Barry held my arms behind my back and Tamara’s hands enclosed my ankles, spreading my legs as I was held in the humiliating position, bent over the table, naked, without seeing who was touching me.

  Jeanie’s hands were covered in cold latex as she touched me, spreading my skin to look at the damage.

  “There’s some bruising between the inner and outer labia on both sides…” she noted. Something cold pressed into me and I gasped, shaking and trying to move my hips around to avoid the metal, though it caused a pinching inside me and made me still immediately.

  Then there was a pressure, a small clicking sound, and finally enough pressure to push me open.

  “No signs of tearing, though,” Jeanie said. “Looks a little irritated, but otherwise, everything looks fine.” The pressure eased and the metal slipped away, though my panic did not lessen. “We’ll be sure to give her some supplements before we put her back in her cell.”

  The door opened and my heart nearly leapt out of my throat.

  “Ooh, this looks like quite the party,” George’s voice chuckled behind me. Tunnel vision was beginning to take over… “Look at that pretty sight.”

  “You want Dana’s sloppy seconds?” Corbett asked skeptically.

  “Actually, she seems to be in distress,” Barry said with an annoyed groan. “Let’s just get her on the table and get going. We’re behind schedule.”

  “Fucking buzz-kill, that’s what you are, Barry,” George said pointedly.

  Tamara released my ankles, but only after she had lifted them onto the table and strapped them down with the metal restraints.

  They moved around me, getting their gloves and putting masks over their noses and mouths. I looked around, frightened and not sure what was about to happen.

  “What are we running?” Corbett asked, fixing his mask over his nose and mouth.

  “SID-3,” Jeanie answered.

  “That’s pretty low-level…” Corbett murmured, sounding disappointed.

  “Dana’s orders,” Jeanie said, setting my file down and grabbing her own gloves, being the last one to get ready. “He was very specific about what he wanted.”

  “So, why did he put her in Ward Ten?”

  “Take a look at the list of what he wants done,” Jeanie nodded to the folder. George picked up the folder, looking at something I could not see.

  “Shit,” he groaned. “This is a lot of tests…” His eyes narrowed and he looked more intently at the paper. “Fuck, if we do this, we’ll kill her…”

  “That’s what I said,” Jeanie agreed. “But he insisted she’ll be fine. He told me that I would understand after this test, so it must have something to do with those anomalies in her blood work.”

  They placed tacky pads on the skin of my neck, my forehead, my biceps, my forearms, my belly, my thighs, and my calves. One of them clipped something onto my finger while another one started an IV that almost made me pass ou
t from my phobia of needles.

  Barry then swabbed my other arm. I heard the case on the rolling table click open.

  “All monitors are running,” Corbett called.

  “Okay,” Barry said. “Someone call time for me.” He reached to the rolling table out of my line of sight and grabbed a packaged syringe, tearing it open and grabbing a vial of clear liquid from the case marked with a big number one. He filled the syringe as my panic became all-encompassing, but it was dulled by whatever was pumping through my IV and made it impossible for my body to panic. My brain raced, watching as the plunger on the syringe moved up, pulling in more of the clear liquid.

  Barry put the vial back on the table and his hand went to my arm, pushing the syringe under my cold skin. I opened my mouth to let out a pathetic sob of panic and fear, but no sound came out.

  “Time, 16:17,” Tamara started. George wrote something in my folder.

  The serum was cold as it moved into my arm, trapped in a puddle under my skin where the syringe had left it. As the needle was removed, Barry’s thumb trapped the wound and the other hand pushed the liquid up my arm, rubbing to get my circulation moving.

  When he was satisfied the serum was moving, Barry moved his hands away from my arm and reached for another syringe and the second vial in the case. I watched, trying to ignore the cold feeling in my arm.

  “Time?”

  “16:20,” Tamara answered when the room had been still for what felt like three hours.

  “Still a little early…” he sighed. “We’ll give it a little time.”

  And again, we waited.

  I tried to tell myself to stay calm, to not be frightened by what the serum now pumping through my veins could do to me. However, there was no way I could not be nervous. My breathing was erratic and the air in the lab was cold, causing me to shiver and, therefore, be more frightened.

  “Okay,” Barry said, lifting the new syringe, which had a liquid with a golden color to it. I was reminded of Dana’s eyes.

  There was a pinch and the serum was pushed into my arm.