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Inside Page 171

by Kyra Anderson


  I knew I should have tried to remain calm and say things to reassure others, but it was the closest Dana had ever come to our stronghold. I knew there were ways to block the entrances, but after our previous attempt to seal a tunnel led to the medical room being destroyed, no one was willing to try again. Our best option was to quickly leave Fort Daniels.

  “Okay, even if he does find that entrance, it will still take time for him to find the bunker itself. We have enough time to get out of here before he finds us,” Clark insisted.

  No one was convinced. I could see the doubt in everyone’s eyes as they look at one another. With so few of us left, we all knew we would not stand a chance against Dana if he found us.

  Clark turned his eyes to Mark.

  “Mark? Do you think we should leave immediately?”

  Mark’s eyes showed his apprehension. The plan we had in place was working, but he also knew that it would not take long for Dana to find us now that he knew how we had escaped from the Commission. He stared distantly at the ground, his mind working around every angle, trying to calculate the best way for us to survive.

  Finally, he lifted his head and nodded.

  Despite the impending danger, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. Clark nodded once and turned to everyone else.

  “Okay, it’s decided. Let’s get ready,” he said strongly. “One group will start tonight, another tomorrow night, and then we will leave the night after.”

  I closed my eyes as a wave of nausea engulfed me. I had to give myself over to Dana soon. If Dana was already so close to the fort, I was worried he would be watching the area surrounding the fort and capture each of us as we left.

  It was time for me to accept what was coming.

  I lost myself in the hustle of getting the next group ready to leave that night and it allowed for a welcome distraction to my impending doom. I said goodbye, hugged everyone, and smiled through the pain whenever I heard the phrase: “We’ll see you in Mexico.”

  When the bunker had gone quiet, I had another task to distract myself. Mark, Clark, and I went around the bunker, turning off all unnecessary power, hoping it would draw less attention as Dana began to search the area more thoroughly.

  Going through each room and being sure that the lights were off, along with any other unnecessary functions, reminded me of the day Clark and I had first found Fort Daniels. It had seemed too good to be true to find such a perfect location already hidden and secretive to start planning our idealistic revolution. At that time, we had not even known that Mark was the one helping us. We had be filled with blind trust and nearly-delusional naïveté. Even though everything had now fallen apart, I still looked back on those memories with a smile.

  I wished I was still filled with such optimism, and delusion of my own power. Even though I never had power over the Commission, I desperately missed the idealistic fantasy of my own influence.

  I only hoped that I had enough influence over Dana to save the others from being captured.

  Everyone was quiet in the bunker, jumping at every out-of-place sound, sure that Dana would appear at any moment. Nobody slept that night.

  The following day, I knew what I had to do.

  Dana was already hot on our trail, and I knew it would not be long until he discovered the bunker. Therefore, I had to meet him outside. I went through the day as normal—quiet, trying to keep thoughts of Mykail at bay, and being sure that the next group was ready to set out on their trek to Mexico. However, I kept thinking that it was the last night of freedom I would experience. Every action that day was filled with the dread of what I planned to do that night.

  With everyone being nervous, my behavior hardly seemed out of the ordinary. Yet Mark was constantly looking over at me, and unreadable expression in his eyes.

  As soon as we had seen the next group off in the dark of night, I went back to our bare supply room and pulled out the half-bottle of vodka that we had set aside in case there was a medical emergency and we needed sterilization. I brought the bottle back to the main bunker where Jeff, Jessica, Clark, and Mark were sitting quietly in one corner, looking very small against the vastness of the empty space.

  I stood in the opening to the hallway, looking around at the steel walls and feeling very small myself.

  “Lily?”

  I jumped, turning to see Clark staring at me. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I said too quickly. I lifted the bottle and shook it gently, forcing a broad smile to my face. “Celebration?”

  The smiles that came to their faces were small and sad, but they nodded. It was a bittersweet celebration. We sat in the corner of the bunker, passing around the vodka, being sure to empty the entire bottle. Every time it came my way, I would pretend to drink before passing the bottle to Mark, hoping that he would drink enough to fall asleep and give me the opportunity to do what was necessary.

  There was not a lot of talking that night. We were all lost in quiet thought, happy to have survived for so long. Clark and Jeff both bid everyone good night once the bottle of vodka was empty. Once the boys had made their way towards the rickety bunkbeds in the other room, Jessica also told me and Mark good night.

  I turned to Mark and forced a smile, but I could not look at his face. I knew it would likely be the last time I ever saw him, and even the thought was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I looked just above his head, trying not to see the concern in his features.

  “I’m tired,” I said. “I’m going to go to bed, too. “

  He nodded once, getting to his feet and offering a hand to help me. I took it, but still avoided looking at his eyes, worried I would not be able to stay strong under his gaze.

  “This is it,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “Our last night here.”

  Mark nodded again. For a few moments, he merely stared at me. Then, he stepped forward and gave me a strong hug, one hand holding the back of my head to his chest as the other held my shoulders tight.

  A part of me panicked, worried I was going to break down in front of him and tell him my entire plan. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, but hugged him back. I tried to notice every minute detail, determined to etch into my memory how safe Mark made me feel.

  When I felt the tears coming on, I pulled away from the hug and giggled nervously, trying to wipe the stray tears from my eyes.

  “I think I had too much to drink,” I said lamely. “Good night, Mark.”

  With a tender smile, he bid me a silent good night.

  My shaking legs somehow managed to carry me to the bunk room, though I could hardly feel my feet hitting the floor as I moved. I went to my bed, but did not get under the covers, knowing I would have to sneak out quietly. As I climbed onto the mattress, I tried to find any weak spot in the frame of the bunkbed that would make noise and give any indication that I was leaving. Then, I remained very still, my eyes open and staring at the frame of the bed above me.

  The bunker was quieter than it had ever been. The shifting of the others under their covers sounded like gunfire slicing through the quiet. I had to focus on my breathing so my own panicked breaths would not pierce the silence.

  I forced my tired eyes to remain open, though sleep begged me to close them. However, it would be my only opportunity to stall Dana’s pursuit of the revolutionaries that had already escaped. I had to be sure, more than anything, that Clark and Mark made it safely it to Mexico and were no longer in danger from the dangerous leader of the Commission of the People. I had to be certain that I could protect them as much as possible in a way I had been unable to protect Mykail.

  When the silence became all-encompassing and the shifting of the sleeping figures in the room had ceased, leaving only their even breathing, I gingerly moved my legs out of the bed, carefully sitting upright, trying not to allow the frame to creak. A soft groan from the metal cause me to still immediately, holding my breath, making sure no one had been disturbed by the sound.

  When everything remained still, I let out a long, n
ervous breath.

  Gently, I placed my bare feet against the concrete floor, stooping down to gather my shoes and socks from next to the bed. Then, with painstakingly-slow movements, I transferred my weight on to my feet and stood. Waiting another ten seconds, I listened to the sounds of the room.

  Everyone remained asleep.

  Walking on my toes and holding my shoes in my hand, I stepped toward the door of the bunk room. moving so slowly I was sure that it would be dawn by the time I finally left Fort Daniels. I placed my hand on the knob and turned it, feeling the latch slide out and allow me to open the door. I peered through the small crack in the door, trying to spot Mark in the main bunker. However, I could not see him. Opening the door even further, I stuck my head out, finally spotting the leader of the Eight Group sitting against the wall, his head hung low on his shoulders, dozing off.

  Keeping my eyes on him the entire time, I slipped out of the opening of the bunk room, not daring to close it behind me for fear of making enough noise to wake him, and tiptoed backwards until I reached the door I had decided to leave through.

  Stepping into the hallway leading to the mechanical rooms, I used my shoulder to heave open a heavy door—one that would not screech on rusted hinges. It was difficult to move the door on my own, particularly when I was moving so slowly to avoid making noise. However, I only had to open it enough for me to slip through.

  As soon as I was in the hallway, reality washed over me.

  I was defeated. It was what Dana had known all along. He had known from the beginning that I could never win against him. And even if he had not known how far I would go trying to oppose him, he had to know that, at some point, he would have me backed into a corner and I would have no choice but to submit to him in order to protect those I loved. Tears began to blur my vision, but it was not fear nor grief that caused them.

  It was disappointment.

  I pulled on my socks and shoes and walked through the dark, cramped hallway that led to an abandoned, dilapidated house a few blocks away from the Mackey Power Plant. Using only a small flashlight, I maneuvered through the passageway, trying not to be angry at myself.

  I had been foolish to think that I could go up against Dana. I had known that when I started the rebellion, but I figured, if we could get enough people behind our cause, then perhaps we had some chance of winning. But against to Dana, who had no morals to hold him back and the entire country at his disposal, was able to stage everything so perfectly that we had no choice but to admit our defeat. In a way, I had to be impressed with his brilliance—as I always secretly had been. But the cleverness with which he had defeated us had also demoralized us.

  The system we had been wanting to change was too powerful and too corrupt. There was no way we could have won.

  With the pain of defeat slowing my step, it took me nearly an hour to get to the dilapidated house at the end of the tunnel. I climbed the iron rungs of the ladder and pushed open the crooked trapdoor in the floor with my shoulder, heaving my exhausted body into the open air. I closed the trap door and then looked around the shadows cast by the crumbling walls.

  Clicking off my flashlight and taking a deep breath, I plucked up my last bit of courage and left the abandoned house.

  I did not have an exact plan for how I was going to get Dana’s attention. I did not know if he was going to be nearby, still searching for ways into our secret fort. But even if he was not nearby, I knew that I could get his attention by being a pedestrian out past curfew. If I was spotted, the police would be called and I would soon be in custody.

  The neighborhood around me was filled with houses that had been destroyed in a flash flood years previous. Most of them have been left to rot away until someone had enough money to put in to renovating and fixing them. Therefore, I had to walk for a long time before I was able to find a house where people lived and could report me for being out past curfew.

  My hands shoved deep into my pockets and my eyes low, I traversed the sidewalk, waiting.

  After a few blocks of walking, I lifted my eyes and cut sight of the impressive structure of the Mackey Power Plant silhouetted against the night sky. The lights from downtown Central provided a backdrop, allowing the towering structure of the abandoned power plant to be easily seen. I stopped on the sidewalk, staring at it, thinking back to that first day that Clark and I had explored it. It seems like an eternity ago.

  Before I thought better of it, I crossed the street and walked to the chain-link fence, hooking my fingers in the metal and looking up at the abandon building. My thoughts were jumbled mess, but it all felt like static in my brain. I could not think of anything. I could only stare at the structure and remember emotions from what felt like a past life.

  All at once, it hit me.

  The anger that I felt toward myself, toward Dana, toward my own stupidity for thinking that I could go up against such a powerful opponent, all crashed over me like a wave breaking. The weight settled and my knees buckled under it. Holding onto the fence to keep me from collapsing, I lowered myself to my knees, the tears running freely down my cheeks. Sobs began to rise in my chest, no matter how much I tried to suppress them. Pained moans erupted from my throat, making me sound like some wailing animal in the night.

  I did not care how much noise I made—I was trying to attract Dana’s attention as it was.

  The image of Dana around the water tanks flashed in my mind. In that same moment so did millions of other memories of him. I thought about my fear the first time I saw him, about the way he touched me, about the way he seduced my mother, about the horrible way he treated the kids of the Commission, and about his complete disregard for human life. I thought about the way he had turned the American people and the media against us within a single day. I thought about people who had died.

  Perhaps it was self-centered of me to think that it was all about me, but his obsession with me had made me feel as though everything that had happened was my fault. Because Dana was so obsessed with me, good people had been hurt or killed. I kicked myself, believe that, if I had just given into him earlier, most of those people would still be alive.

  My anger swelled, hot lava licking at the walls of my belly.

  I tilted my head back and screamed as loud as I could into the night sky. I did not think about the attention that the sound would bring upon me. I did not think about how it would also reveal the location of the fort with me being so close to the Mackey Power Plant.

  I needed to release conflict churning in my body.

  My screen broke off into a broken sob, my entire body ripping apart at the seams as the pain, anger, and disappointment tore through me. I sobbed loudly, holding onto the chain-link fence as if it was the only thing keeping me grounded to the earth.

  “Dana!!” I bellowed, my voice cracked and thin as I tried to scream around my sobbing. “Dana! You son of a bitch!”

  I began panting, out of breath from my screaming and crying.

  “I’m here!!”

  My voice seem to be swallowed by the massive structure of the Mackey Power Plant, echoing off the crumbling brick and cracked concrete.

  “Do you hear me?!” I screeched. “You win!! I give up!! Dana!!”

  Nothing but silence responded. The sense that I was living in an alternate reality where everyone moved around me while I remain still became stronger. I started to wonder if I had hallucinated seeing Dana is so close to the fort. I figured I was losing my grip on reality.

  “Dana!” I cried. “Do you hear me?! Answer me!! I said I give up!! You fucking son of a bitch!! You sick motherfucker!!”

  My head was spinning. I could not see anything around my tears and my voice echoed in my head as much as it did around my surrounding. I pressed my head against the cold chain-link fence, crying heavily.

  “Dana…” I whimpered. “Please…. “

  Still, there was no sound around me.

  “Dammit…” I wheezed.

  Managing to dislodge my fingers from the chai
n-link, I balled my hand into a fist and smacked it uselessly against the fence, causing it to rattle loudly. I moaned loudly again, nearly screaming in agony that no words could describe.

  “Dana!!”

  I could not hear the sound of rapid footsteps approaching over my crying and screaming until the sound was right behind me. My eyes snapped open and I began to turn to see who was coming up behind me, but a hand came around my face and clamped over my mouth, another arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me away from the fence. Instinctively, I began struggling, even though I had known I was about to be captured.

  I was hauled to my feet and dragged across the land around the power plant into the street, where I try to get my feet under me, still kicking in a desperate attempt to get free. My muffled screams did not make much noise, and when I saw headlights approaching down the road, my voice went quiet with fear.

  I had been caught.

  The person wrestled me to the other side of the street and into one of the half-built home. I was torn between watching the approaching headlights and fighting against my captor. However, the person holding me did not wait with me on the sidewalk for the approaching car. Instead, the strong arms pulled me inside the framed house before near-violently shoving me to the floor, laying on top of me to keep me still, a hand still clamped securely over my mouth.

  A different sort of fear filled me.

  Perhaps it was not Dana who had captured me, but someone else, someone with worse intentions. I began screaming once again, but the hand pushed against my mouth even harder in a bruising grip. I flailed my arms and legs, trying to hit the person, but I was weak and he had me pinned completely to the cold concrete slab.

  The hand over my mouth turned my head, the fingers pressing deeply into my skin. I was screaming both in fear of who had captured me and pain at the grip on my face. When my head was turned to the side, I open my eyes and saw the man pinning me to the ground, his head laying on the slab next to mine.

  As the headlights slowed in front of our hiding spot, Mark’s horrified face was briefly illuminated.

 

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