Inside

by Kyra Anderson

  The smaller man moved to obey, and the two of them lifted him off the ground, though the large wings still dragged on the ground. Clark and I each took a side to hold the heavy wings out of the way so the two experiments could walk with him.

  “Let’s take him to the small rec room,” Peter suggested. “Sorry, everyone, we’ll take care of him, go ahead and eat,” he called back to the worried people in the bunker.

  We shuffled awkwardly down the hallway to the small rec room, Peter squeezing by to open the door for us. As we were moving him to the couch, trying to decide how we were going to position him to accommodate his wings, his eyes fluttered open and he let out a pained groan.

  “What…”

  Mark and Griffin quickly lowered him to the floor though he let out a shout of pain when his wings were trapped under his body weight. He rolled out of their grasp and to his side, taking deep breaths as his wings remained heavy on the ground.

  “What happened?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at us.

  “You had a seizure,” Peter explained.

  Mykail pulled himself to his hands and knees, taking several moments before he tried to get to his feet. His eyes rolled in their sockets and he nearly collapsed. Mark and Griffin quickly went to catch him, trying to figure out where they were going to put him.

  “I’m…alright…” Mykail murmured.

  “No, you are not,” I snapped.

  Mykail moved as best he could to sit on the couch though his wings rested heavily on the faded upholstery, dragging his shoulders down further.

  “I think…we need to be honest about what’s happening here…” he whispered, his eyes closed as he hung his head. “These things are going to kill me soon.”

  I knelt in front of Mykail, staring at his exhausted pale face and shaking my head.

  “Maybe there’s a way to remove them.”

  “I don’t know that it will make a difference at this point,” Mykail breathed.

  “The wings are nearly dead, Lily,” Peter whispered. “All that black skin, the white sores, it’s necrotic. The flesh is dead. And when I looked last, there was a deep set infection near the base of the right wing.”

  My mind was scrambling, trying to think of any way that we could save Mykail’s life.

  “Could we amputate the wings?” I asked.

  “We don’t have the means to do so,” Peter whispered. “We have no way to put him under, no way to keep the wounds clean once the wings are removed, and no antibiotics to fight the infection he’s already got.”

  “It won’t make a difference,” Mykail breathed. “I know that I’m dying, I know that I can’t go across the border, so let’s stop pretending that something miraculous is going to happen.” He heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I’m only going to get worse. It would be best if…”

  “Mykail, no,” I snarled.

  “It would be a mercy, Lily,” he said, finally opening his eyes to look at me. Even though he was talking about dying so calmly, I could see the fear in his eyes. “This is going to get worse. You can’t be taking care of me while also trying to prepare everyone for the trip to the border. You are trying to find the smart way to survive this mess, and you can’t have literal dead weight at such a crucial time.”

  “I don’t want to hear you talking like that.”

  Mykail placed a hand on my face and smiled at me gently.

  “It’s alright, Lily. I’ve made my peace with it.”

  “I haven’t!” I barked.

  Mykail’s blue eyes turned to Mark.

  “Mark, will you?”

  “Whoa, wait—” Peter said, looking between the two of them quickly.

  “No!” I snapped, standing and rounding on Mark, who retreated two steps. “I don’t want you to listen to any of his nonsense! You are not going to kill him, do you understand?!” I turned to Mykail once more. “You’re going to rest, and stay quiet, and we’re going to find a different way to go about this.”

  “Lily—”

  “I’m not going to hear it!” I near-screeched, cutting off Griffin. “We will find another way, damn it!”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Another week passed and Fort Daniels became emptier. Those who were left would watch the news worriedly, hearing about the growing search for the Central Angels, particularly their symbol, the angel. It made me angry to hear them talk about him as though he was a monster, particularly since it was Chris that was causing occasional mayhem in the city while the real symbol of our revolution was painfully disintegrating.

  I spent most of my time with Mykail. We had moved him out of the bunk room and into the first rec room, setting up a bed in the darker side of the room to keep him out of light. We were careful to tell everyone that Mykail was just suffering from malnutrition, being sure to keep the extent of his failing health hidden.

  It was easier for everyone to ignore Mykail’s failing health when the bunker received a call from one of the first groups we had sent south—they were safe across the border and in the last safe house getting their falsified papers. The news reinvigorated everyone and when we sent six groups within the span of a week, we all felt more comfortable with the journey.

  I was trying not to think about my impending plan for running off to find Dana, but since I no longer had to worry as much about the groups we had sent to the border, the only thing left to occupy my mind and keep me from obsessing over every detail about going to Dana was Mykail.

  I spent a lot of time with the ill experiment, holding his hand and replacing cool cloths on his forehead in an attempt to keep his fever low.

  My squeamishness had all but disappeared as I cared for Mykail. His wings were rotting away on his back, and the dead tissue was taking over his shoulder as well. He would have painful spasms, one of which caused one of his wings to snap and resulted in us trying our best to tie it back into proper place, even though that limited how much Mykail could move, since it caused him even more pain. There were hours where he would simply pass out because the pain was too much to handle.

  There was no way to know how much longer he would survive. I knew I was delaying the inevitable, and I knew that Mykail was in pain, but it was never an option for me to have Mark kill Mykail. Even after everything that had happened between us, I still cared enough about Mykail that the thought of him dead felt like a kick in the gut.

  He had been confined to a bed, unable to move his wings, his body shutting down slowly and painfully as more defeated rebels left Fort Daniels and moved south. We received more calls of groups that had safely made it to the last safe house, but there were also two groups unaccounted for. Worried that those groups could reveal the location of the Fort, or the other routes that we were using to move South, we sent more groups to make the trek. We were getting desperate to get everyone out of Central, knowing it was only a matter of time before Dana, with the urging of the worried and angry people, would tear apart the entire city trying to find us.

  When there was only thirty-six people left in the fort, Mykail’s condition turned even worse.

  “L-Lily…” he whispered as I placed another cold rag on his forehead.

  “Shh…don’t talk, save your strength…”

  “For wh-what?” he tried to chuckle, his face contorting in pain. “I-I need to ask….a favor…”

  “What?”

  “I-I need…to t-talk to Mark…”

  “No,” I said sharply, tucking some sweat-soaked strands of hair behind his ear.

  “P-Please, L-Lily,” he shuddered. “I c-c-can’t…”

  “I won’t have you asking Mark to kill you.”

  “I-I can’t…keep going…” Mykail gasped sharply, his teeth clenching. “My entire right side…is b-burning…I just want…I need it to end…”

  My heart fell into my stomach. My brain had been unable to come up with a different solution to the predicament, and I knew the quickest way to ease Mykail’s pain would be a well-placed bullet, but everyone in the bunker kn
ew that I would not let anyone become Mykail’s killer, Mark least of all.

  All other forms of death were also too painful for me to consider.

  It was selfish of me to keep Mykail suffering, but I could not let him go. I could not make the decision to put Mykail out of his pain.

  Every thought in my head was torn and confused. I still loved Mykail, despite his betrayal, and the understanding of my feelings confused me. Then, to be the one to preserve his pained life because I could not stomach the thought of him dead made me wonder about my lingering affections for him.

  I spent too many sleepless nights working myself into a crying mess, trying to sneak my swollen eyes and tear-stained face past everyone, particularly Mark. He was already vigilant in watching over me, but I did not need him to become so concerned he would become my shadow.

  One day, when I was busy going over the map of safe houses with the group that would leave later that night, Minsoo ran up to me and grabbed my arm, yanking me to the rec room where Mykail’s body was locked in yet another seizure. Hiroki and Mark were watching over him, their hands extended, trying to be sure that he did non convulse hard enough to hit his head on the nearby wall.

  The tears were blurring my vision as I watched him slowly relax, walking over to stand next to him. Even through my blurred vision, I could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, showing he was unconscious, but still alive. Barely.

  “Lily,” Hiroki started slowly, looking at me from across Mykail’s body as he straightened. “He’s getting worse…”

  “I know.”

  “I think—”

  “No,” I snapped, glaring at Hiroki, knowing he was going to repeat the suggestion he had said so many times before. “No.”

  “Lily, he’s in agony,” Hiroki breathed. “Are you really going to let him suffer like this?”

  “You would rather put a bullet through his brain,” I growled.

  “No, none of us want to kill him,” Hiroki corrected, raising his hands peacefully. “But we don’t want him to continue suffering. And we all know that this will kill him anyway. There is nothing anyone can do at this point to save his life.”

  I lifted a hand to my face, trying to stifle the sobs that were angrily trying to rise out of my throat. Minsoo walked over to me, hugging me tightly as I lost the battle to keep the tears at bay.

  “Lily, please…” Hiroki whispered.

  “This isn’t like…pulling the fucking plug on life support,” I blubbered shoving my tears away with the heels of my hands as Minsoo kept his arms around me. “You are making a conscious decision to shoot him. It’s murder.”

  “He’s begging for death,” Hiroki hissed.

  “That doesn’t mean you should murder him,” I snapped. “If you kill him and I will never forgive you!”

  Mark’s hand was suddenly on my shoulder. I turned to him, searching his dark eyes for what he was trying to communicate. I could not read his thoughts, but that had become the norm after Josh’s death. It was almost as if the leader of the Eight Group had become empty, and even more impossible to understand.

  Mark’s eyes left mine and turned to Minsoo. He nodded once to the other Eight Group member and I found myself being pulled out of the rec room.

  “No!” I screeched, fighting against Minsoo’s vice grip as he pulled me away. “No! I won’t let you!!”

  I threw an elbow into Minsoo’s side, forcing him to loosen his grip slightly, but he still did not release me. Mark and Hiroki looked on, watching as the other Eight Group member took me away no matter how much I fought. I began screaming at him to let me go, not worried about the others who could hear me, throwing elbows and kicking stupidly.

  “I’ll hate you forever if you kill him!” I bellowed. “You can’t kill him!”

  “We won’t kill him, Lily,” Hiroki assured, his voice strained. “We’ll stay with him for now. You need to get some sleep.”

  I hesitated, looking between the two of them. The tears became overwhelming. I stopped fighting, shaking my head and curling forward, Minsoo’s arms keeping me upright.

  “You’re…you’re trying to…to trick me…” I choked.

  “We would never do that, Lily,” Hiroki assured. “We would never go against your wishes. But you really need to get some sleep. You’ve been with him for a long time. Just get some sleep and we’ll talk about this when you’re rested.”

  “D-don’t kill him…” I pled pathetically.

  “We won’t.”

  Mark walked up to me, taking my face in his hands and turning me to face him. I hurriedly blinked away the tears, trying to see his feature. His face was serious, but his eyes were warm, telling me that I was safe to walk away for a while and promising me that Mykail would still be alive when I woke.

  “Don’t you dare kill him,” I warned, my voice quiet. “You didn’t do it for Josh. Don’t do it for him.”

  I let Minsoo take me away.

  * *** *

  The tears and stress led to an exhausted coma. Minsoo sat on the bed with me, waiting for me to fall asleep. Still convinced that the three remaining Eight Group members were conspiring to murder Mykail while I slept, I tried to keep my eyes open as long as possible.

  But I was exhausted, and finally succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

  When I woke, my head was foggy and pounding with pain, but I quickly remembered the conspiracy theory to kill Mykail and I bolted upright, starling Minsoo.

  Seeing him still sitting on my bed, I began to think that I had not slept at all.

  He smiled gently at me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked with his extremely thick accent.

  “Fine,” I said simply. “How long was I asleep?”

  He glanced at his watch.

  “Ten hours,” he answered.

  “You’ve been sitting here for ten hours?” I asked skeptically. He shook his head.

  “I helped the group go…” he answered slowly, motioning with his hands to clarify that he had seen off the group of rebels.

  I hesitated before voicing my next question.

  “Is Mykail dead?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, he’s not dead, or no, you’re not telling me?” I snarled, untangling my legs from the sheets.

  “No, he’s not dead,” Minsoo clarified.

  “Are you sure?” I pressed suspiciously. He nodded.

  I felt relieved, yet still suspicious and worried.

  As I lifted my hands to my head to ease the pain, the door to the bunk room opened and Mark walked into the darkened room. He stepped over to Minsoo and placed a hand on his shoulder. Minsoo nodded, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

  Mark took Minsoo’s spot, sitting on the bed near my knees. I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

  “You didn’t kill him?” I asked quietly. Mark shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “Do you want to kill him?” I hissed. Mark sighed heavily, obviously unsure how to answer. I rolled my eyes.

  “What I wouldn’t give to give you your voice back…” I murmured. “Do you think it would be best to put him out of his misery?” Mark nodded slowly. “Do you want to kill him?”

  Mark shook his head.

  I was surprisingly relieved by his answer.

  We were silent for an indeterminable amount of time, staring in different directions, trying to sort out our own thoughts before we spoke with one another. I wanted to tell Mark everything. I wanted to tell him that Mykail wasn’t the only one who could not cross the border, but that I also had to stay behind and let Dana take me into the Commission as well, otherwise, he would hunt everyone down, including Mark. I wanted to tell him that having Mykail alive was the only thing keeping me from turning myself in, because as long as I had him to worry about, I didn’t have to think about Dana’s previous warnings and promises about how our game would end.

  However, I bit my tongue hard enough to hurt myself. Mark had already told me he was tired, and he was ready to flee the country. He did not nee
d to be taking on Dana as an enemy once more just to try and keep me out of the Commission.

  “Mark…” I whispered. “If you could go back…and change what happened with Josh,” I saw the way his entire body tensed when his friend was mentioned, “would you have killed him quicker so he wouldn’t have to suffer?”

  Mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his small notepad.

  “I should have respected his wishes and ended his suffering,” he wrote. “But I’ve killed many people, Lily. And I didn’t want him to just be another person I killed.”

  I stared at the words, trying to wrap my head around them. I looked up at Mark again.

  “Is that why you don’t want to kill Mykail?”

  I waited anxiously as he wrote his answer.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  The tears were already coming back. The only reason I did not break down crying again was because my head hurt too badly to cry once more. As I sniffed and tried to swallow down the lump in my throat, Mark wrote something else in the notebook.

  “But it’s going to hurt no matter how it happens.”

  Nodding tightly and biting my lip to avoid violent sobs, I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around him, needing to feel the security he always provided for me. He hugged me tightly, trying to reassure me, even though there was nothing about our situation that was safe or ideal.

  When we both left the bunk room, Clark, Griffin, several members of the Eight Group and the remaining humans were sitting around the main bunker, talking quietly. Clark, upon seeing me, got up and hurried over to me, giving me a tight hug.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m…not…” I said honestly, clearing my throat.

  “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “Honestly, you’ve been doing a lot for me,” I said. “You’ve been holding everything else together while I’ve been so caught up in all this other stuff.” I shook my head, lowering my eyes to the floor. “Honestly, you’re so much stronger than me.”